Much thanks to those who reviewed the previous chapter. Everything seems to be progressing smoothly, and strong plans for what is to come have formed, both relative to The Stormreaver and things outside of it as well. Please, enjoy the next chapter and R&R! ~F
Chapter Seventy One
The Lion of Stormwind
Blaise Zabini had departed swiftly from the isle of mages in the middle of the swamp, taking a single horse and what food would be needed for his journey. The uncomfortable aura of being watched had dogged him the entire time he remained within the swamp, and even now it continued, several miles out of it and heading toward the north, staying well out of sight of the road, and refraining from shifting his disguise because of his growing paranoia.
The likelihood was indeed that he was being followed, but every attempt he made to find out who was observing him was in vain. Whomever or whatever it was, they were skilled in the matters of magical concealment, and even his training in the Fel did not give him an edge in locating them.
Therefore, Blaise did what he could to put as much distance between him and the city as he could, surmising that it had to be some sort of remote scrying that for some reason had desired him specifically. It was infuriating, but his mission was priority number one, so he refused to allow himself to be distracted with the obstacles trying to prevent him from reaching the northern, demon-infested forest.
He rode for as long as the horse would let him, only stopping at a cluster of trees around an oasis when the beast downright refused to travel any farther, laying down stubbornly at the water's edge and dipping its face to drink deeply.
The wild animals around the oasis were quick to avoid the warlock as he made preparations to rest a while until his mount was ready to move again. Even the native centaur clan, ghastly beasts in comparison to the Fel variety that had joined the Stormreavers from earth, was too fearful to approach him with their limited magic and weaponry.
A few short hours and the horse was up and ready to go further, but Blaise could sense, like a bad smell clinging to the area, that what it was that was watching him had returned, and all the head start he had made over it was lost.
Still, he was able to thereafter make excellent distance up the wide area known as the Barrens. The massive Horde settlement was something that, while he was interested in picking up more supplies to facilitate his journey up tot eh forest to the north, he couldn't afford to stop now, with the need to change into an orc and that fact even more important to keep secret from whatever was spying on him.
Therefore he pressed on, up till he reached the line of trees that let into the heart of the great forest, and the Horde encampment that blockaded the passage through to it.
Here however, he ran into a major snag. He couldn't comfortably change into his orc disguise and sneak past, and even if he did , the guards were likely to take note of an orc riding a horse through their checkpoint and ask questions.
No, his only option was stealth, but that meant abandoning his mount to the wilds, which while unfortunate, was a price he was willing to pay to maintain his secrecy. Dismounting well out of sight therefore, he crept through the underbrush and stuck to the shadows of the barren trees. He steadily made his way to the corners of the wall, where a watchtower peeked over the top, and the craggy slope of the mountain unevenly butted up to the wall itself, preventing all but the most experienced in climbing from scaling its surface.
Luckily, aided in part by a muttered wizard spell, Blaise was able to stay well hidden, and still carefully ascend the portion of the mountain face and squeeze onto the other side of the wall. He dropped from there, rolling as he landed on the mossy side of the forest edge, before darting into the tree line and out of view of the wall and watchtowers, just in case there were any sharp-eyed lookouts manning those defenses.
Even still, he wasn't safe yet, as the baying of riding wolves coming from the northeast of his location was indicating. From the maps he had read before departing, he knew that his destination was north and to the west, but the clash of swords directly north of him, in addition to the snaps of bowstrings, told him that heading directly there would not be the wisest choice.
At the least, the sensation of being watched had disappeared for the time being, and he gratefully shifted into the form of an orc, layering the magic thickly around him just in case the powerful sensation wafted over him, trying to locate his previous form once more. Afterward, he went toward the sound of wolves, skirting around the possibly skirmish, just out of sight, not wanting to become involved in some scuffle between orcs whatever other denizens of these trees happened to be.
Why there was such a conflict became apparent quite rapidly, as the forest gave way to a massive clearing, where huge stumps of the trees were all that was left under the open sky to indicate the size of the foliage that had dwelled here before.
The orcs, along with what seemed to be goblin allies or mercenaries, were felling large portions of the forest. Blaise, now fully into his persona of Tenebrous, could only guess that most of the lumber being harvested had been used to construct the massive fortress-city of Orgrimmar. But the fact that they were still actively at work clearing away and cutting new trees spoke of something even greater.
Could it be that this Horde was not done with their expansion and construction? Odd; although, not terribly out of the ordinary for a civilization. Still, his purpose lay elsewhere, and at the least the fighting was far lighter here, and restricted to the western side of the lumber clearing.
So, Tenebrous made his way quickly to the nearest road that led into and through the active part of the operation, taking note of the symbol of the clan that was in charge of this expedition, a red orc face, seemingly in the expression of song.
Not a clan he was familiar with, and definitely not one of those that he was commanded to eliminate on sight, such as the Twilight Hammer, therefore Tenebrous left things as they were, ignoring the goblins that tried to attract his attention with piles of gold or other trinkets that he presumed they wanted tasks completed for in exchange for such prizes.
What he did overhear as he left, among the orc warriors that were patrolling the outmost part of the lumber camp, was that a large group of 'Night Elves,' were planning to attack them in the near future.
Who or what they were referring to didn't matter to him, what Blaise cared about was the fact that the battle would be coming to this region, and it would be highly unlikely for him to return through this area when his mission was complete. He would have to find an alternative route back to the marshes and across the sea. But that was a concern for another time. Finding the main road that led to the west, at the northern end of the lumber camp, Blaise turned and started walking, surmising that it might have to travel for most of the day, if not the next as well.
However, he was distracted by a large amount of Fel energy in the air, surprising him as he founded a bend in the forest road. Having thought that he wouldn't encounter any affiliates with the Legion before entered the section of the forest known as Felwood, Tenebrous crept nearer, wondering what could be the cause of such a large spike of demonic energy.
What he found only served to cause more questions. Tall goat-like creatures, with dark fur, long horns and claws, and grating voices as they conversed in hissing tones to each other. The interesting thing about them was the massive amount of Fel energy infused into each of them. Blaise could only suppose that they were created creatures, much like the Fel Centaur or the Ogre Magi.
Unfortunately, his presence seemed to not go unnoticed, as the goat creatures seemed to be drawn to him, only stopping when they spotted his orcish form.
"You…" one of them said, with a tone of both awe and curiosity, "your aura is so intensely like that of a member of the Legion… tell us, has the time come for the next invasion? Are the Satyr's finally accepted once more as the loyal servants that we are?"
Tenebrous raised an eyebrow. There could be a great deal of use that such desperate former slaves of the demons could be to the Stormreavers. "After a fashion…" he said coolly, "I have a mission that you could assist me with."
"We will take you to Prince Raze," the lead Satyr said, gesturing farther back into their compound with an elongated claw.
Walking in cautiously, Blaise kept his senses on high alert. Any being so infused with the power of the Legion was not safe to be around, and from the scattered remains, and even the half-deer humanoid creature chained to the ground, he could tell that they were dangerous and violent creatures. Still, to put yet another arrow into the quiver of Lord Nobu'tan, Blaise was willing to take the risk.
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Lucius looked over the parapets of Stromgarde, the fortress that he now was in charge of overseeing in its stages of repair and development. Countless orc workers had been shuttled by portal to the northern stronghold, and under heavy guard they had fanned out to collect all the wood that could be found for building and repairing.
The need for guards became clearly apparent when it was discovered that not only the remnant of the humans that once ruled the region, but a faction of orcs that were not part of their Horde were stationed throughout the highlands, and would be highly aggressive on sight of their groups out gathering resources.
There had already been several skirmishes with both these groups, and Lucius was already preparing a full out attack to crush both of these factions and drive them out of the Horde's newest acquisition of lands.
Nobu'tan had requested before the other orcs had been eliminated that he personally have the chance to infiltrate their encampment and see what information he could acquire regarding their presence on this continent, as thus far they had been operating under the assumption that this second Horde was purely on the larger continent of Kalimdor.
While Lucius was heavily against such a plan as Nobu'tan being left unsupervised in his exploits, there was little choice but to go himself, and the pureblood wizard turned warlock had to admit that Nobu'tan was for accustomed in dealing with these other races and their different sense of honor and strength than Lucius himself.
Therefore, while he had little choice but to allow that plan to go forth, it didn't mean that he could plan out their attack to happen the moment that he determined that Nobu'tan had had enough time to discover what there was to find in the small, moderately defended fort.
Luckily, there was a need for gathering their fresh warriors, cycling those who were still wounded from taking Stromgarde back to Blackrock and bringing better suited soldier to the frontlines for the renewed campaign to take the entire region. Lucius had personally requested Edgran and his Fel Centuar, who would be highly effective on the open rolling hills for strategic raids and hit and run tactics.
For heavier hitting forces, his options were somewhat limited, with their Horde consisting primarily of orcs, ogres and forest trolls, and so an equal grouping of those forces were being amassed within the stone fortress, out of sight of their enemies, which would be more than capably of sacking the fortress and plundering what resources these other factions had amassed.
Still, Lucius wanted to make sure that they had gathered enough to begin construction on their own shipyards at the cost edge behind Stromgarde, in the unlikely event that the battle went poorly, and they were forced to retreat back to Stromgarde and endure a possibly counter siege.
Nobu'tan refused to believe such an outcome was even possible, and while Lucius agreed, he was paranoid enough from a lifetime of fighting for Voldemort during the first Wizarding War to know that contingencies were necessary, in the event of unforeseeable circumstance, and in this new world of magic and warfare, it wasn't wise for them to do anything less.
"What are our orders?" Edgran asked, walking up to Lucius, fresh from another raid on the pitiful group of human survivors.
"We wait for our forces to arrive, and then we march on Hammerfall outpost…" Lucius said, already turning to face the great mass of construction that the fortress was undergoing. This quarter, once home to the mages of Stromgarde, was ideal for them to enact the ritual of summoning to open the way back to Blackrock Mountain.
But Lucius wanted something a bit more substantial. Therefore, he had a special project set aside and given attention to even above the repairs to the defenses. The empty frame of a portal resided in the center of the open area, etched runes spiraling up the worked stone, and several prisoners bound down to the ground nearby, ready to give their lives unwillingly to open a permanent gateway back to the Burning Steppes.
Lucius wasn't terribly prone to wanting to slaughter humanoids so casually, but the Fel was very specific in its demands for the power greater than the normal war-like abilities. At least these didn't scream and cry for their lives as those back on earth had. Muggles or not, he still couldn't easily forget the faces of countless men, women and even children that had been sacrificed to satisfy the Legion's demands.
Channeling the Fel, and praying that he could get through this ritual swiftly, he aimed twin beams of pure demonic magic at the portal, watching as the runes started to glow in response, solidifying the permanency for the tear in space. Life draining energy lashed out, attaching to those who did not defend themselves in the nearby area. The bound victims wailed for a short span of moments, their life force removed completely and absorbed into the portal, settling into its purpose and clearing visibly to reveal the well defended room within the mountain.
Security was paramount for such a necessary method of rapid travel, and so the Order of the Black Harvest had set inside of the mountain a sealed chamber, that would be guarded at all times. There they would open portals to various locations, making sure that only those that they knew of would be capable of using the portal network, primarily for troop movement as needed.
The orc guards on the other side of the portal widened their eyes as Lucius stepped through the newly made portal, wide enough for two orcs side by side. "Prepare our forces, we will be attacking within the day, the Warchief will know of what I speak." Lucius said, ordering one of the guards to depart.
The orc nodded, seemingly eager to be away from such powerful magic. Lucius returned to Stromgarde, now content with everything in motion. All he had to do was wait for events to fall into place, and the attack would commence that would cement their domination over this region.
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Narcissa was casually shopping in the Trade District of Stormwind. It was something once upon a time she would never have considered doing for herself, outside of occasional trips to Diagon Alley for clothing, books, or other luxuries. But buying groceries and other necessities for herself and Draco was an entirely new concept to her.
She was just leaving Trias' Cheese, where she had acquired a selection of the well known and enjoyed Stormwind Brie, a very popular cheese that she had used in many dishes lately, when a large man in armor accidentally knocked into her.
"My apologies, my Lady, I should have been more aware of my surroundings," the man said, catching her and preventing her supplies from falling to the ground.
"Thank you," Narcissa said, looking around and pausing. The man was extremely familiar, and yet so drastically different in appearance that she was surprised. "Your Majesty?" she asked, wondering why King Varian was out on his own, with no guards but a Night Elf Druid, and another elf with bright skin and a pair of wicked looking daggers on her belt.
But the man had already moved on, aiming directly for the Keep, the antler-wearing Night Elf smiling apologetically as he and the female elf moved on. Curious, Narcissa quickly summoned an errand boy to take her purchases back to her home, and followed the King.
There was something amiss, she could sense it, and there was a rising idea of danger brooding in her mind, all in connection to Anduin and her own son. Narcissa cut through the crowds, arriving at the Keep just after the party of three, where the guards were attempting to halt their advance. The King was growing quite angry, but Narcissa darted forward, "They are with me, let us pass, I wish to see my son…" she said sternly.
The guards had long learned to not try and oppose her when she wished to see Draco, and they sheepishly turned aside. The King nodded at her once more in thanks, and stormed ahead.
"You are very kind," the female elf said, her voice very silky and elegant.
"My pleasure, I was intending on seeing my son today anyway," Narcissa replied with a shrug.
They walked up the narrow corridor swiftly; already having lost sight of Varian, but suddenly there were shouts ahead and the clash of swords, and the pair of elves sprinted ahead. Narcissa was forced to take her time, not wanting to go too terribly fast with the precious cargo within her.
What she found, when she finally arrived at the throne room, shocked her. Varian was sitting on his throne, surrounded by Anduin, Draco, Lady Prestor and Bolvar Fordring. But there also was Varian, standing before the throne, with the two elves on either side of him, the guards having attempted to block him and a large axe having knocked them aside.
"What is the meaning of this?" the Varian in the throne demanded, rising to his feet and pointing at his double. "Who is this man?"
"Ask your advisor, she knows quite well who we are, and why there are two of us!" the second Varian, with the far more wild appearance roared back, pointing the axe at Lady Prestor.
"Lady Prestor, what is this madman raving about," the fist Varian said, turning his head toward the esteemed councilor, but not taking his eyes off the wilder version of himself.
For her part, Lady Prestor looked absolutely stunned for words, and actually fearful, if Narcissa was to assign a single emotion to the complicated and mysterious woman.
"She won't speak," the other Varian said, smirking darkly as he took another step toward the throne, "because she is the one behind all of this: the Defias, our disappearance, the crumbling of Stormwind, everything!" he said. "Isn't that right, Onyxia!"
Lady Prestor sighed, slowly stepping away from the king and the throne. Narcissa felt the well up of magic before anything happened, and quickly moved to her son's side, feeling a sudden urge to protect Draco and the Prince.
"It seems you figured everything out, didn't you… little King?" Lady Prestor said, even as more Stormwind guards arrived, surrounding her but facing outward. Narcissa repressed the urge to gasp as each in turn transformed into draconic creatures, set upon four lets while their arms held cruel-looking weapons. "No matter, I will deal with you in due time…" Prestor said, even as she herself seemed to swell and grow, transforming from her petite human form to that of a massive, jet black dragon.
With lightning fast speed, the dragon swooped in, trying to snatch Anduin from the midst of his protector, but Draco and Narcissa reacted instantly, Narcissa knocking Anduin to the ground and out of the range of the rushing claws, while Draco lashed out with wizard magic, cutting hexes striking dangerously close to the eyes of the Dragon, who roared in surprise more than pain, her claw closing around Narcissa instead of the boy-prince.
"This isn't over!" Onyxia roared, and Narcissa felt magic pulling them from the room, someone screamed her name as darkness took her, and she saw blackness.
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Draco could only stare in abject horror at the empty space that had once contained the great black dragoness Onyxia, the Broodmother's claw clutching tightly around his mother as magic took them far away. This was not part of the plan, and the complications that this meant for the Stormreavers was only eclipsed by the fact that now his dear mother, and as of yet unborn sibling was in jeopardy.
With a roar of rage, his magic reacted, making the entire room of the Keep vibrate with his sorrow. He was startled therefore, when a powerful and firm hand rested on his shoulder, "Peace, young Malfoy," said King Varian, sounding very much the voice of reason, "I do not understand all that is going on, but from what the dragon said she will be holding your mother hostage, probably in a vain attempt to dissuade us from hunting her down and dispatching her."
"This affront will not be tolerated!" the second Varian said bitterly, turning on the surge of guards that had rushed in to investigate, issuing demands with the storming of a great beast within a cage, "gather our warriors, I want an army ready to hunt down the dragon within the hour!"
"I do not know what sorcery has given you my face, stranger, but I am King here!" Varian stated, his own voice growing firm, and Draco winced as the man's hand clamped down on his shoulder.
There was a tense moment as the two seeming twins glared at each other in silence, only finally broken as more magic flooded the room. Draco whirled, wand aloft and a curse on his lips, but the blue light of a mage's teleportation gave him pause, as the Sorceress from Theramore appeared, an old woman at her side with a cloth-wrapped bundle.
"I felt the surge of magic from Theramore, what's happened?" she demanded, only stopped when she realized the two Varians were present. "Oh, I see…" she said after a moment.
"Jaina, what do you mean?" both versions of the King asked at once, glaring at each other after they spoke in unison.
"It's no surprise that you both found each other so quickly, I mean," Lady Proudmoore stated, beckoning the older woman forward. She then proceeded to tell the room the most fantastic story, of how the true King had been captured by Defias outlaws, bought and paid for by Onyxia in the guide of Lady Prestor, and conducted a magic ritual in order to divide Varian into two, one comprising his compassion and tolerance, which would be returned to Stormwind to rule as her puppet, while the other was his rage and rashness, which she had hoped to destroy.
The second Varian then took up the story, detailing his adventures after being captured by naga, thrown into duel arenas under the name Lo'Gosh, and eventually finding his way back to Stormwind and recalling his true self.
"But I don't understand how this will help rescue my mother!" Draco shouted after a while, growing quite fed up with the distraction.
Both the Sorceress and her elderly advisor glanced at him for a long moment, "Yes, well for Varian to become whole once more, each half must work together, and for that cause I brought something that may help."
Gesturing at her attendant, who stepped to her side, Proudmoore took and unwrapped the bundle, revealing a pair of elegant, elven blades. "Behold: Shalla'tor the Shadow Render, and Ellemayne the Reaver," the Sorceress said, present each sword, one to each of the Varians.
"So long as your resolve is united, these blades will work in harmony with each other," she explained. "And you have my magic at your disposal, in whatsoever end you desire, my King…"
Both versions of the King of Stormwind looked at each other for a long moment. "We have a dragon to slay," the first, who had been with them in Stormwind, said, and the second nodded. "Captain, gather all the troops you can spare, we must locate the Black Dragoness' hideout as swiftly as possible and slay her!" the King commanded.
"Yes, my Lord!" the guard replied, slapping his armor in salute and dashing away, crying for guards and knights to assemble.
Draco paused in his turmoil when he noticed that all eyes were upon him. "Son, we will find and rescue your mother," Varian said, while his double nodded, "I swear it to you…"
"Thank you, your Majesty." Draco replied humbly, noting that once again the Sorceress and her assistant's gaze lingered on him far longer than normal.
"Varian, I think I have an idea where Onyxia might have fled," Lady Proudmoore chimed in once she turned away from Draco, and the warlock felt the need to back away slightly and send a message to Nobu'tan. The woman was too observant, and her handmaid seemed to know far more than even the old woman let on. It was deceptively odd, and he was uncomfortable in their presence.
But for the time being he had no choice but to listen in as the Sorceress explained how there was a large cluster of Black dragonkin in the marshes near her own city in the southern parts of Kalimdor.
"Then we will gather several ships and head there immediately," the royally dressed Vairan said as soon as the Lady was finished explaining. "I refuse to allow the woman who cared so much for Anduin in my… our… absence, come to any harm."
"I'm coming too!" Anduin piped up, but both Varians turned at once.
"Absolutely not!" they declared in tandem.
"I agree," Draco added, facing the boy prince, who looked quite put out at being unable to assist, "the Dragon wished initially for you to be her prisoner, and bringing you into her lair would just put you needlessly in danger."
Anduin looked downhearted, but nodded nonetheless. "And now, we should leave for the harbor as swiftly as possibly," the second Varian said, beckoning for his two elven allies to follow. Draco smirked. This other version of the king was more to his liking, action and motivation in every ounce of his being, rather than merely cool contemplation.
It felt very true what the Sorceress had said, that they were truly half of a greater whole. A pity that he was serving Nobu'tan in the end, and would see this kingdom in ruins eventually, for Varian seemed to be a great and wise leader, one that even a Malfoy would willingly bend the knee to.
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Jaina could sense the powerful Fel energy wafting off Prince Anduin's new tutor and friend. While she had shared none of these concerns with Varian, either of them, she knew that Aegwynn had more than sensed the residual Nether energy.
The oddity behind it was that Jaina learned quickly that the young man's mother had been taken by the dragon, each of them having defended Anduin. It was unusual, and had Jaina wondering what exactly the situation behind these people, where they had come from and what their goals were.
Aegwynn was just as confused. "I makes little sense that, if they have energy from the Legion base world upon them, that they would be helping the Prince so directly."
"Perhaps they are more complicated than we realize, or else there is another explanation behind why they have the taint of the Legion upon them?" Jain mused.
They had taken a high tower room for the time being, as while the ships and soldiers were being assembled from throughout the regions near Stormwind, they had some time to themselves.
"I'm not certain," Aegwynn replied. "But I cannot suggest that we simply trust these strangers that have so quickly worked their way into the trust of the Wrynns…"
"Agreed," Jaina replied, smiling slightly at the condescending nature of the old woman. At first it was irritating, when she first discovered the woman out in the wilds of the barrens so long ago, but over time it grew on Jaina, and the more she let the ancient Magna just be herself, the more she understood that Aegwynn was just tired and enjoyed being cynical from time to time.
Still, the fact stood that they needed to keep a stern eye on this person; this Draco Malfoy and his family. Jaina had asked Anduin about the background of this family, and she was astounded at what the boy had known, and freely shared with her.
No one in Stormwind outside of their people knew where they had come from, except that it was generally 'from the south.' Since the time that they arrived, people related to and coming from the same place as the Malfoys had dispersed throughout the Kingdom of Stormwind, even as far as the edges of the southern jungles, and the Malfoys specifically, had invested themselves into the mainstream political powers of Stormwind itself.
Lady Narcissa Malfoy had wormed her way quite easily into the council of the Prince before Varian had returned, even pressuring Lady Prestor for command of the city from time to time, and while Anduin had nothing but glowing words for the woman and her family and friends, it worried Jaina to no end how swiftly a completely foreign group of humans had infiltrated the entire kingdom and started effective political sway over the ruling bodies of the land.
It rang of everything that Thrall had warned her about, and the counters the Warchief had enacted within Orgrimmar to prevent such infiltration of the group he had named the Stormreavers.
Jaina had made a few attempts to implement some of the same procedures, combined with what she had learned alongside Aegwynn when the first heavily Fel infused human had crossed through Theremore, but there was only so much she had power to do in the human nations, outside Kul Tiras, which she had little desire to return to.
The remembrance of her father's fall and his unbridled anger against the Horde was still too near, alongside the sorrow of his death that she scarcely could think of returning to her island nation. She sent communications to keep order and prosperity, but by and large she was only concerned with making sure that no more war sprung up between the Horde and the Alliance.
It was a hard battle to fight, but for the sake of her friends, human and orc alike, who had fought and bled on the slopes of Mount Hyjal to stop the Burning Legion once before, she would do all in her power to end this cycle of hatred that had lasted for more than two decades.
Still, the resurgence of this Fel covenant, infiltrating and seeping into both factions did not bode well, and she had the feeling that there would be further war on the horizon if she did not intervene and stop these dastardly enemies of peace before they had the chance to enact their plot.
"There is no doubt in my mind that these Malfoys, or whomever they are working with, seek to destroy both Horde and Alliance," she said, even as she started to trace runic symbols onto the stone floor of the upper tower room, which once held the royal conjurers long before the mage district was founded with the rebuilding of the city.
With the threat that these infiltrators poised for the safety of the factions, Jaina was plotting something of her own, something drastic that she knew could have very far reaching, and damaging consequences if they were not done just right.
"This could prove perilous…" Aegwynn said, even as the portal opened and the warmth of the other side flooded in.
"There is little choice, with what I suspect will come to pass, we need this treaty done as quickly as possible, and if the Horde will help us defeat Onyxia, then Varian will be more willing to open diplomatic communications…"
And without another word, she stepped through into Grommash Hold.
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Nobu'tan was not surprised to find out that the other Horde had an encampment in the Arathi highlands. What had shocked him, when he successfully infiltrated the camp disguised in his orc raiment as a warlock, was the sheer number of undead beings that were in the base, geared for war and in the process of drilling and preparing for a battle.
There were a good number of orcs, trolls and tauren, the name for the large bovine people, among them as well, but the massive number of undead was grossly out of proportion to the rest that Nobu'tan was almost put off of entering, and momentarily thought that they might be better off postponing their impending attack on the fortress to take the rest of the highlands for their own.
"Yes, the Defilers are something of an eyesore," he caught wind of a tauren saying, the great cow walking with a troll through the center of the base, "but they're needed to help secure the resources of the Arathi Basin to the north, and will be moving out shortly, as soon as were sure that the Dark Horde raiders are gone."
That was the cause of it then, Nobu'tan figured, as he slowly made his way through the encampment, taking stock of the guards and other fighters that were stationed here. Aside from the Defiler regiment of undead warriors, the base was far lighter than he would have expected, sporting to its credit only a large building that served as a hospital, as well as the command center on the uppermost ridge of the base.
Any attack from the lowlands would be unwise, but the only passage on the top of the ridge was a heavily defended gap in the wall, which led straight to the rearmost part of the base, and into the heart of the Defiler's campgrounds, where the elite undead warriors were stationed, alongside their commanders, even as they prepared to move through to the upper part of the mountains to the apparently resource heavy Arathi Basin located in the northern mountain regions.
Smirking to himself as the regiments of undead started to pack up and move for the entrance to the entrance of the strange tunnel, he thought of all the resources that they would be able to win in due time once this entrance was theirs.
Unfortunately, there seemed to be few that were of any importance in this place, and he would find limited answers to his burning questions regarding the fate of the first Horde here.
That left only one course of action for him to take, which was to make the signal for his forces to attack the camp and take it for their own. He would need to damage this tunnel, in order to prevent the elite Defiler warriors from returning and lending their aid to stop his advance; however, and that would immediately throw him into the thick of the fighting.
"No time like the present thought," he said to himself, even as the last of the Defiler warriors started for the entrance. Quickly summoning up a large amount of Fel power, he threw his arms forward, allowing the powerful magic to launch from him to the rock face above the tunnel. The magic shattered large chunks of stone, causing it to rain down and crush the reanimated corpses that were still below the tunnel, guarding it for reasons unknown.
Before anyone could react, Nobu'tan turned his gaze skyward and fired several clear jets of magic from his wand, casually summoning a pair of Felguards to his side, which had joined the Order of the Black Harvest as enforcers long ago.
"This base will be mine now," he said aloud, more for his own benefit rather than the members of the rival Horde, who shouted war cries even as the horns of Nobu'tan's own forces blared across the highlands.
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Onyxia raged in her lair in Duskwallow Marsh. Nothing was going according to her plans. She hadn't expected Lo'Gosh to return so quickly, nor for the cascade of events that forced her here, to her last bastion of escape, and the location of the secondary clutch of her eggs. She would have grabbed the boy prince, and ransomed the boy back in exchange for her life, but the blasted Malfoys had to intervene, and she had grabbed Narcissa by mistake, which now more than likely made her the enemy of the Dark Horde, once Nobu'tan learned of the events.
"My son will not take this offense lightly…" the woman was saying, sitting gingerly on an outcropping of rock in the large lair. Dragonspawn were preventing her from simply leaving, but other than that, Onyxia would rather she have the comforts she needed, as the dragon broodmother quickly threw a plan together to save herself and more importantly her eggs.
The woman was pregnant, and Onyxia could easily sense the tiny life within Lady Malfoy. She had no desire to harm the woman, no matter that she was angered by events surrounding the mortal since she had arrived in Stormwind. One mother to another, she understood that the safety of children overrode all rational judgment, and the human had claimed young Anduin as her own.
In the same situation, Onyxia might have done much the same. But still, the ramification would have been the same.
Onyxia did not respond to the woman's mocking taunts. She knew for a fact that the boy would be coming, with both Varians and a host to slay her in tow. Her only option was to try and barter Lady Malfoy for her own safety, else attack and try to eliminate them all in one fell swoop.
It was a worrisome concept. Onyxia knew that she was incredibly powerful, but she had a limited number of allies in the marshes to fight against an invading army. However, she had the potential usage of her children if she had no other choice.
So, in preparation for the inevitable retaliation against her, Onyxia turned her massive head toward the outer ring of the room, spewing forth shadowflames to heat and liven up her eggs, which would awaken the little whelps sheltered within. If the need came, she could call for them to hatch immediately, and when they emerged from their eggs, they would be hungry.
Varian and his forces would not be able to stop an entire swarm of black whelps if the final need happened, and in order to defend all of her children, Onyxia was prepared for such an outcome.
