Many thanks to those that review. For those concerned about a return to Azeroth, worry not, it is all part of the plan, and there is FAR more of the story that will progress once that event occurs. We just need patience to set the stage for that happy event to happen. Meanwhile, enjoy... ~F
Chapter Twenty Seven
Form and Sunder
Draenor… the red world…
In all his life Archmage Khadgar had never seen such a place so dead and separated from any vestibules of green or beauty, including the vast wastes of the Deadwind Pass. Something terrible and powerful had happened on this world, and it was up to the Sons of Lothar to make sure that the threats of the Horde and the evils that allowed the Dark Portal to exist be stopped once and for all.
After the rift had reopened, orcs had come back through to Azeroth, stealing legendary artifacts from Dalaran and other great places of learning; ones that caused chills to creep down Khadgar's spine when he learned of their thefts. The Eye of Dalaran, the Book of Medivh, and some sort of jeweled scepter from the very tomb of the Demon Lord Sargeras, all had fallen into the hands of an orcish shaman named Ner'zhul, and had been used to rip apart the fabric of space and time, opening many portals across the wastelands of the Hellfire Peninsula.
The orcs had retreated through these portals, but left a great many number of clans to deal with the invasion force that had come from Azeroth to stop them, and thankfully many of these artifacts were now in Khadgar's possession. The book and the Eye had been safely recovered, as well as an orcish skull that brimmed with fel magic.
It didn't take much for Khadgar to discover that this was indeed the skull of the very orc warlock that had opened the Dark Portal to begin with: Gul'dan. Throughout their time in the world of Draenor, Khadgar had searched for any sign of other humans, or the boy Tobias Banu, but it seemed that the boy had never come from this place, nor set foot on this red world, as the few captives that managed to acquired had no knowledge of humans outside of the sons of Lothar.
So, it was with a heavy heart that the Archmage prepared for the ritual that they had set out on this expedition to do, seal the Dark Portal, and the rift binding the two worlds together, forever. Turalyon, as leader of the Alliance forces, had sent back as many of their soldiers to Azeroth as he could; only keeping those who willingly would fight to defend Khadgar as he closed the portal. Time was precious, and the Horde was bearing down on them even as he set out the book of Medivh.
Holding aloft the greatstaff of Medivh, Atiesh, as well as the Skull of Gul'dan, Khadgar began the incantations. Once the portal began to collapse, there would be little time for them all to get to safety, as the world around them was ripping itself apart.
The sounds of a terrible battle surrounded the massive dais that the portal was built upon, as Horde and Alliance forces clashed for what the Archmage hoped was the final time. Once the incantation completed, Khadgar watched as the massive swirling energies within the portal started to wither away, and with his remaining strength he took up the Book of Medivh and the Eye of Dalaran, and hurled them through the collapsing rift. So long as these artifacts reached Azeroth, and were safely away from the Skull of Gul'dan, then the portal could never again be opened.
Abandoning his place before the now empty portal, as well as taking up the Greatstaff and skull of his long hated foe, Khadgar yelled to the warriors around him. "We must get to one of the rifts, before the world beneath us gives way and is destroyed!"
Elven rangers nodded, nocking arrows lit with chemicals to light signals to the rest of the waning army of defenders. The signals flew through the air, and as one the Alliance army abandoned the battle, surging across the dead landscape toward the nearest of the many portals that the crazed orc Shaman had unleashed on this world. To remain here was certain death, and to go through one at random, while undesirable, was at least a chance at survival.
Volcanoes sprung to life as the tectonic plates holding Draenor together started to separate, fel and arcane energies exploding in the atmosphere as warrior after warrior, urged on by their leaders and friends, ran through the rift. Alleria, Turalyon, Danath, and Kurdran all made it through, and Khadgar waited a brief moment to watch the collapsing world behind them, before he too stepped through the portal into the unknown. Something, at the last moment struck his side, and he turned to see the Skull of Gul'dan tumbling away as he was pulled into the swirling purple energies of the Void, sending it careening in another direction, away from him, but mercifully not back to Draenor.
If it was lost, so be it, better to never be found again than to be used by anyone. Khadgar embraced the unknown and pushed onward through the vortex of energy, somehow sensing that they had indeed made the right choice to flee this way from the ruined and dying world. He felt, satisfied with what he had done for the good of Azeroth. Whatever his fate was to be, he would accept it.
"That is good, young Archmage…" sounded a voice sounding within his skull, sounding melodious and beautiful. Turning in surprise, Khadgar came face to… something, with a massive creature of pure radiant light. "Do not be afraid, young mortal. I am known as A'dal, and I have come to assist you, by the will of the Light."
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Nobu'tan paused in his reading as he felt something strange surging through the Nether. It was as though a massive amount of energy had been drawn to one specific place in the cosmos, before suddenly being released with explosive force. Despite this, it was a long distance from the world he was on, but that only made it more puzzling that he could feel the draw on the powers of the Legion.
Still, it hardly made any difference to his circumstances; he had his goal to work towards, including gathering the other artifacts that he needed to bring the Legion to this world. the Diadem of Ravenclaw was safely stored in Lucius' vault, away from prying eyes, and the ex Death Eaters turned warlocks were now preparing for their infiltration of the Department of Mysteries to seek out the Grimoire of Merlin, which in turn seemed to be the key to seek the torque of Morgan le Faye. Sadly they still had no idea where to begin seeking the Elder Wand.
Still, Lucius was making the final preparations to smuggle Nobu'tan into the Ministry, under the watchful eyes of Dumbledore, who had been keeping an annoyingly close watch on the man's movements. It was readily apparent that the Headmaster correctly presumed that the orc-raised human was taking sanctuary from the pureblood lord, but little did the man truly realize.
Still, that did not mean that the young warlock allowed the old man to prevent him from going out of the manor and doing what he personally needed to prepare. So long as Dumbledore was focused on Lucius, Nobu'tan felt safe enough to slip out, in disguise, to visit Diagon and Knockturn Alley.
Now that he knew the strong direction he was working towards, he could start to gather allies that would be more helpful than just more warlocks. It was clear that the goblins of Gringotts had no fondness for their world, or the humans that inhabited it, and while they respected Nobu'tan for his values and the manner in which he was raised, there was still the question of what he could use that respect to gain from the warrior race.
Walking past the guards while maintaining eye contact was a good start in fostering the goblin's attention once more, but Nobu'tan was fairly sure that the runners of the wizarding bank had been expecting him for some time yet, as a goblin clerk approached him before he could make his way to the teller line. "Right this way, sir." The goblin said, casually gesturing to the rows of offices beyond one of the back doors.
"The Director is expecting you," the goblin said as they approached a large set of doors in the rear of the row of offices, and Nobu'tan only glanced at the goblin once before pushing open the indicated door and stepping through.
He had not made any guesses of what to expect, so when the cavernous room beyond came into view, he was unsurprised. Leave it to goblins to have an obstetrically ornate room right in the middle of a bank just for the purposes of their leader.
"So this is the famous and intriguing Harry Potter of which I've heard so much about?" a goblin voice said from the side of the room, where a large throne-like seat was planted before a large table, where five other goblins sat, all facing Nobu'tan as he had entered.
"Come, sit with us, I have heard it mention that you come with news and some sort of intriguing offer for our people." The goblin direction said, gesturing to the open seat, which was slightly larger for Nobu'tan's frame.
How the goblins knew of what he desired to speak of before he had ever entered their bank, Nobu'tan wasn't precisely sure, but he also felt that the goblins were at least willing to hear him out. Massive braziers burned above the meeting table; with fumes wafting gently downward, filling the room with various scents both pleasant and not so much.
Looking around the table, Nobu'tan took note that each of the other goblins seemed to be leaders in their own right, each clearly dressed in the garbs of their professions. Miner, craftsman, shaman, priest, and warrior all watched his every move, while the director peered down from his raised seat.
"I was not aware that I was expected, when I had made the decision to bring this offer to you." Nobu'tan admitted, wondering if they'd even address his concern, or if they even already knew what he wanted to say to them.
"That would be my doing," the shaman said, gazing well past Nobu'tan with a rather faraway stare, "the spirits whispered that there would be one who would come bringing destruction upon the wizards, and that we could be easily caught in the middle and ended unless we were observant."
"That was almost two years ago, shortly before you yourself stepped foot in this bank for the first time," the warrior added, shifting his metal clad form in his seat. "It was the only reason that our guards were on alert enough to even notice the difference that you presented when you interacted with us."
"And we were quick to seize that opportunity, and give assistance where we could for you, Mr. Potter," the priest commented, her robes shifting slightly as the female goblin spoke, "and now those acts have come full circle."
"Yes," the director said, "Tell us what your offer is, so that we may know whether you are indeed the one our Farseers have foreseen."
The speech and flowery presentation that Nobu'tan had prepared was forgotten in a heartbeat. He had doubted that it would have worked anyway, but this level of directness could only be appreciated and returned in kind for their nation's respect. "I am a herald of woe and destruction, it is true. I seek to bring certain artifacts together that will usher in an annihilating force that will destroy this world, and all those upon it who do not serve."
"I have foreseen this of which you speak," the shaman said, and Nobu'tan realized that the creature was blind, the normally cunning eyes glossed over and grey. "The burning ones from the sky will rain upon the world and cover it with oppressive darkness."
"Yes, but there is a way to save your people, and not have to bend to the will of the Legion, completely…" Nobu'tan said.
"And that would be to join and aid you in bringing them to this world?" the director asked.
"Not something so drastic, aid me yes, but I have a better use for your nation that will take place far after the Legion has come." Nobu'tan corrected, "It has to do with the world that I came from; a place I seek to return to once my duty to the Legion here is completed."
"You wish the goblin nation to rally behind you as you enter this new world, as a force to help you with your other goals there, then?" the warrior asked.
"In a word, yes," Nobu'tan affirmed, "there would be many challenges, and the cunning wisdom and fighting prowess of your nation would be undisputable resources to me, and I can guarantee that, unlike here, the world I seek to go to has no oppression based upon race or purity of blood, at least not that prevails over the whole society."
"That is indeed something to consider." The director said, leaning in his throne, "it is no secret that we hold little regard for the world of the wizards and their nonmagical kin, but I place where the goblins could live as their own people, fully in the open and respected by others would be most appealing."
"I can also confirm that where I seek to go, goblins exist as a race already, so you wouldn't necessarily be out of the ordinary for others to see."
"Other goblins?" the priestess asked, "That would indeed be something we'd like to find out more about."
"I only met some a few times, but they largely resemble yourselves, physically and in mindset, although they have a distinct love for mechanical items and explosives that I have not seen here as of yet." Nobu'tan explained.
Still, he effectively had nothing more that he needed to say, as the goblins were now rapidly talking among themselves in their own language, either arguing the value of trusting him or determining how to best prepare for such a departure he did not know. Finally, they all turned back to face him once their conversation died away.
"We need more time to think on this matter, but we will most assuredly contact you in the future regarding such a proposition. To leave this place of oppression and find a new world in which to live would be quite appealing for most of our people, but not all."
"I respect your wisdom in considering all the options before making a final decision." Nobu'tan said with a small bow as he rose from his seat. "Shall I return at a later date to hear your decision, or should I just await your owl."
"It may take some time, but yes, we will contact you when we reach a united answer," the director said, summoning a goblin aide to lead Nobu'tan back to the lobby of the bank. Before the doors to the meeting room closed, Nobu'tan heard another bout of the goblin language explode behind him. They were indeed disputing the ramifications of an alliance with him; that much was for certain.
But he had time to wait for them to agree on a course of action, and even now there was more work to be done. Once outside the bank, Nobu'tan skillfully weaved his way through the crowd toward the little side street that housed the darker district of the marketplace. Most would not think to look for the famous Harry Potter there. In addition to that, there were things here that were not available to purchase anywhere else that he could teleport to, such as some of the rarer herbs that he needed for alchemy and inscription, both skills in which he was not instructing several of his followers. Enchanted was another animal altogether, and there were plenty of things that were otherwise useless bobble that he could acquire cheaply here in Knockturn that would be perfect for breaking down into raw magical components.
But first and foremost, Nobu'tan was looking for some appropriate attire for his debut as the warlock who assaulted the Department of Mysteries, something that enhanced his power but kept his identity secreted, as well as some new focus that was not easily taken easily like a wizarding wand. While predominantly channeled through the physical body, both Arcane and Fel energies could be amplified through the use of an implement, such as a staff or wand, and it was the former that Nobu'tan hoped to find in this place.
Having fallen out of fashion sometime during in the Renaissance, staffs were something of an archaic viewing on how to channel wizard magic, but Nobu'tan was confident that he could find something that suited the appearance he hoped to foster among the populace to disguise his true identity.
Entering a shop that looked prominently interesting enough, the young warlock spread his awareness through the Nether, seeking some resonance with his own magic to find an appropriate conduit. There were several large rods, with jewels or flashy crystals along a wall, but these he ignored, they both drew too much attention and held little power. Pushing past a table laden down with wands and other smaller items, Nobu'tan briefly wondered why the shop had had no bell or other noticeable signal of the entry of a customer.
He was about to look for a shopkeeper, when he was distracted by a resonance of magic in the far corner of the room. Something there was strongly reacting to his presence, and that was worth inspecting over anything else. Passing a shelf filled with crystal orbs and other hand held items; he found a collection of unadorned staffs, more walking sticks than anything, but just as sensitive to magic as the other items in the room.
The warlock stretched out his hand, trying to sense which one was calling to him, and to his pleasant surprise one from the very back leapt to him, scattering the other staffs, which fell to the ground with a clatter. It was a rather short staff, only coming to Nobu'tan's shoulder in height, and was rather gnarled, giving a rather old appearance with the twisted knot as its head. But still, it would channel his power readily, and therefore was exactly what the warlock sought.
Only once he turned with his selection to face the counter did Nobu'tan find a worker for the shop, who was giving the young orc-raised human all the time he needed to find what he wanted. "Your price?" Nobu'tan requested.
"For that undecorated stick," the older gentlemen responded, "ten galleons."
An exaggerated price, to be sure, but Nobu'tan cared little for the gold of this world, and dropped the coins on the counter as he passed it toward the door. The largest item of importance had been acquired, which reinforced the warlock's confidence that this side street held the other things he needed. While the main clothier stores of the main alley were always busy and held only the casual style that was worn by wizards these days, the older, less frequented places of Knockturn held onto some of the older styles that had long since gone out of fashion.
It was to one of these that Nobu'tan went to next, looking through the shadier of their articles until he found a style that matched what he sought. Concealing, with large shoulders and a deep hood to cast the illusion of a far older person, but the color was rather ill placed, a faded sort of crimson. He brought it up to the proprietor regardless. "This is close to what I'm looking for, but the color needs work," he said, implying what he desired.
The shopkeeper understood, and shutting the door with a wave of her wand, beckoned Nobu'tan to a back room, where a small stool stood in the center with several mirrors at various angles. The waved her hand at a chair for him to set aside his things, and levitated the robes into the air for an example. Once Nobu'tan took his place on the stool, fabric came out of the back part of the store, and he ran through a list of what color he sought, primarily blacks and grays, although he had some difficulty deciding between red or purple for the accent.
Before long it was finished, with even a few embellishments on the part of the clothier that Nobu'tan had to admit were rather well thought out, decorating the shoulder area with snakeskin leather from several darker colored species. It tripled the price, but for what he needed appearance was going to be everything.
Deciding to actually wear the item out rather than carry it, Nobu'tan felt himself starting to fall into the role he was preparing to create. All that was left was to acquire several baubles to make his deception seem authentic enough, and he would be quite able to fool even the most astute of Aurors that he may encounter in the Ministry.
The final shop to meet these needs, Borgin and Burkes, was highly recommended by Lucius as the place to buy and sell all assortments of dark artifacts, and the tingle of magic as he entered the shop was indeed as Nobu'tan had been lead to expect. The white hair man behind the counter nodded as Nobu'tan entered, unable to see that it was a child he addressed. "Welcome sir, buying or selling today?"
Nobu'tan whispered a near inaudible spell to alter his voice, deepening and adding a gravely tone that strongly reminded him of Gul'dan's low rumble before responding, "I come under recommendation by Lucius Malfoy…"
"Oh, I quite understand, carry on then. I'll be here if you require assistance," the man said sharply, backing off and allowing the warlock to examine the shop at his leisure. For Lucius' advice, Nobu'tan was most grateful. The man had warned that either shop owner would be relentless in trying to pawn off some useless item unless he was cowed into submission, and naming Lucius as a confidant was nearly as good as threatening them most of the time.
Bypassing those items that were particularly useless, or downright dangerous, Nobu'tan levitated a few small or flashy items that would be useful in either his pursuit of enchanting or otherwise decorating this new attire that he had secured for himself. A particularly large grimoire of dark magic, set with chains to hang from the belt was added with a trio of small skulls, a jeweled ring and several darker crystals on the front counter.
Once glance told Nobu'tan that the owner of the shop was already calculating how much he could try to up sell him with these purchases, but there was little that he could attempt to sway over the warlock. The orc-raised human understood the magical value of these items, even if the other man did not, and he would not be easily fooled. Would he pay a fair price, probably not, but it wouldn't be nearly as high as what Borgin, or possibly Burke, was currently thinking.
When he was finally finished perusing the dark and dusty shop, he approached counter, and the small pile of items that he would be taking, the old man's eye practically shining. "Is that all you're looking at today, sir. I've taken the liberty of quoting a handsome…"
"Half…" Nobu'tan interrupted, cutting off the man's start of a sales pitch.
"I beg your pardon?" the man asked, narrowing his eyes. Oh, he knew exactly what Nobu'tan meant, he was just trying to play it off as a misunderstanding.
"Whatever ridicules price you're about to mention, I'll only pay you half, and it's still giving you a large benefit over what these are really worth," Nobu'tan repeated, sweeping his arm over the counter.
"Now see here!" the man protested, and Nobu'tan sighed, "I have it on good authority that these items…"
"Silence!" the warlock thundered, "You know nothing concerning these items aside from how much gold they could fetch your worthless hide. I know your tells, they're as plain to see as Lucius mentioned. Half; or I will make you regret crossing me and take them regardless."
The threat worked, and the shop owner deflated, nodding with nothing but contempt in his eyes as he rattled off a significantly smaller number than he clearly had wanted. Nobu'tan counted out the gold in front of him, before dropping the coins into a purse and tossing it uncaringly onto the counter, taking great care to place each and every item where he wanted it on his person, or away in the deep pockets or pouches of his robe and cloak for later use.
The only think lacking were the enchantments he had yet to place upon all these items, and the useless baubles would assist greatly in that endeavor, providing the essence of magic and dust residue that were readily consumed to imprint more magic onto existing things. Nobu'tan was almost certain that this skill was unique to Azeroth, and these humans had no idea about this form of enchanting. It may have had something to do with the presence of true elves in Azeroth, rather than the runt-like creatures that these wizards considered elves.
Exiting the shop before the man decided to regain his backbone, Nobu'tan started toward a secluded place he could teleport back to Malfoy Manor. Most figures spotted him immediately, and fled his presence, seeing a figure of great power and appropriately striking intimidation, exactly as Nobu'tan had constructed the physical illusion.
Only, there were some that it seemed to only attract. Around the corner from the main alleyway, a trio of wizards robed in bright red, their Ministry symbols gleaming on their chest appeared, talking loudly and almost bored as they crossed through the darkening streets.
That was, until they spotted Nobu'tan. "Hey you!" one called, sounding almost alarmed and annoyed at the same time.
The warlock did not flee, he was no coward. These fools couldn't stand a chance against him if it came to a fight, but he would give them one chance to depart without angering him. squaring his shoulders, Nobu'tan rose to his full height, which while not terribly impressive to the full grown adult wizards, was still more than they probably had expected from the seemingly old man they were approaching.
"We're going to have to check you for dark artifacts sir, please surrender your wand." One of the Aurors commanded, reaching out expectantly, as though he presumed that Nobu'tan would simply comply.
Utilizing the same voice as in the antique shop, Nobu'tan replied, swatting the offending hand away, "You will do no such thing."
Predictably, the men were not used to outright rejection when their authority was defied, and for a fraction of a second were stunned, which Nobu'tan used to his advantage, channeling a large amount of fel magic into the staff he held, just as the Aurors started attempting to bark orders at him.
"Leave me in peace, if you value your lives…" Nobu'tan said calmly, still building his power.
"Or you'll what, old man?" one of the younger officers, clearly the rookie of the group, taunted.
"One…" Nobu'tan said plainly, stepping back slightly into a perfect fighting stance from his old days of being beaten around the sparring ring with the other orc children.
"You think you can intimidate us, we're under authority of the Minister of Magic," another blustered, but it seemed that the oldest of the three, at least in experience, was growing wary of the 'old man' they were accosting.
"Two…" Nobu'tan continued, subtly drawing back a hand so he could channel whatever spell he needed.
"Sir we need your hands in the air, you're under arrest for suspicion of possessing dark artifacts," the middle Auror continued, but Nobu'tan had had enough.
"Three!" he snarled, reaching forward to physically touch the youngest Auror, unleashing fel fire directly into the young man's face. The young man, probably barely out of his teenage years, screamed in agony as the fire scorched his face and eyes, crumpling to the ground even as his wiser comrades reacted.
The oldest drew his wand in a flash, but the explosive power that launched from Nobu'tan's staff was such that the Auror went flying with a devastating crunch against the wall of a building. The third, and mouthiest of the three, managed to fire off a spell, the reddish bolt striking hard against the shield that Nobu'tan raised with only a thought.
It took only moments for Nobu'tan to know exactly what punishment to inflict upon this one, and a concussive explosion stopped the man from fleeing when he glimpsed the red eyes under the hood of Nobu'tan's robe. The Auror staggered, stunned even as Nobu'tan swiftly reached through the void, calling multiple unbound imps to his side, which appeared in a blaze of fel fire.
"Tear him limb from limb," the warlock commanded, and howling and giggling the imps obeyed, even as the Auror's screams echoed through the Alleyway. The small handful of people that had peered out of windows and from behind shop doors quickly vanished as the demons went about their work.
Meanwhile, Nobu'tan set his focus on the other two Aurors, making sure that they were quite dead with a large dagger that he had brought with him. Obviously they had little on their persons that interested him, and his time was limited due to the screams before someone more came to investigate, but those that would tell what he looked like had been silenced, and making a quick choice, Nobu'tan decided to allow the imps to dissipate when their magical tethers to this world expired, and departed.
He crossed to a small dead end section of the side street, which had access for few onlookers, and quickly set about the now quite familiar gestures for a fleeting portal to Malfoy Manor. Lucius would probably be displeased that violence had occurred while Nobu'tan was out, but it was not as though the younger warlock answered to the pureblood, and it would aid them by distracting the Department of Magical Law Enforcement for a time, giving them more opportunity to infiltrate the Ministry itself.
Stepping through to the cool and calm entrance hall of the Manor, Nobu'tan allowed the portal to close behind him, and threw back his hood, straightening to his correct height and walking normally. There was no need for disguise within this magical equivalent of a fortress. The demons he had been able to call forth and bind to the outer parameter were doing their jobs quite efficiently, and had learned quickly what they were not allowed to interfere with, especially when something as small as a house elf had banished one across the grounds when the hulking demon attempted to smash several rose bushes that were in its way.
Most of the warlocks were present in the Manor at this time, all working tirelessly to become stronger in their chosen paths. It had actually quite amused Nobu'tan when he realized what a diverse selection they had come to all on their own. Of the twelve that formed this group of warlocks, only a third had chosen to study the arts of affliction, Draco, his father Lucius, one of the ex-Death Eaters named Atonin Dolohov, and Blaise Zabini.
Another set of four, Crabbe and Goyle, both Sr. and Jr., had gravitated almost naturally to the raw chaos of destruction, bending flames to their will and creating devastating blasts of pure Fel magic.
And of the remaining four, there was even a subdivision. These four, Walden Macnair, Yaxley, Theodore and his father, had all chosen to study the nature of demons further, but only three of these had stopped at the arts of summoning many demons and bending them to their will. Yaxley however, had progressed even farther, to the point of transforming himself into a demon temporarily, much as Nobu'tan had on several occasions, and channeling the terrible power that came with it.
They all were progressing quite well, even without constant direction from Nobu'tan. He had learned much about, and even from the current and former Slytherins. Crabbe and Goyle were far more intelligent than they behavior at school would betray. They were simply the strong, silent type that would resort to physical demonstrations of power if need be. It was easy for them to latch onto a strong leader like Draco, much like their fathers had with Lucius, and even if they weren't exactly friends, they were at least close comrades in arms.
It was something that Nobu'tan remembered from the relationship between Gul'dan and Cho'gall, the massive ogre not overwhelmingly needing the tutelage or approval of Gul'dan, but taking the ease of command off of himself by allowing the cunning orc warlock to take the lead, and simply follow, although the same could not be said regarding during the secret meetings of the Shadow Council, which Nobu'tan had been privileged to attend only a single time, before the Horde was too dispersed for the surviving members to convene.
The feelings of power that he had experienced there, at a young age, had stayed with him his entire life, and he yearned for the feeling that existed between the Chieftain of the Stormreavers and his underlings. It was understood between them all that Gul'dan was in charge, and his will absolute, but after that they had their own moments, each of them, to speak their minds and agendas, and together the Council would work to further their aims, or readjust if the particular plot was not completely for the good of their collective.
Nobu'tan had every intention of forming these, as well as the future warlocks that would come in the future, into a new order, one to herald and serve the Shadow Council when they were at last reunited with his master. It would be one whose name was whispered in fear and shadows, much like the name of Voldemort was currently, but Nobu'tan was wiser than that. Fear of one man only existed while that man was a threat alone, but the name of a collective would endure forever; as one could never be sure how many were a part of it.
He had already decided on some of the basic command structure, he would head a council of six, the leaders and most expert in the arts of Fel magic, and from them they would teach and seek out others who were worthy of learning the power of the Burning Legion. Of their current number, Nobu'tan already knew who he wanted as part of the council, if they accepted. He would not force anyone to rise above their station, if they chose not to, but once accepted the responsibility was to be placed heavily upon them, and he would not tolerate weakness.
Those practicing in the Malfoy dueling room stopped when he appeared in the doorway, and Nobu'tan could tell they were taking in the image from his robes and staff that he had gathered that day. From the lack of muttering or any comment whatsoever, the orc-raised human presumed that it was met favorably, but it mattered little whether their aesthetics were appeased with it. They were merely tools, and sigils of power, nothing more, and could be cast away in a heartbeat if something stronger was discovered.
Most were present, only Nott Sr., Macnair and Blaise Zabini absent from their number, and Nobu'tan nodded in greeting as he strode to the far side of the room, where several large tables had been set up for his use.
After departing Hogwarts, Nobu'tan had had to practically start his side practices over from scratch, but with the help of the various Purebloods and fellow warlocks, he had managed to lay hands on a larger supply than he ever had at Hogwarts. Of course, that had meant sharing far for information regarding the various arts with the others, which he had been less than desirous to do, as now he had apprentices in all three aspects as well, but that was about to be expected from such a revelation regarding magic.
Even as he approached, and casually set the magical disguise aside near to his enchanting rod, and those of Theodore and Dolohov, he could feel the intensity of the looks of awe upon the other two enchanters for the challenge of doing something more than just disenchanting useless magical trinkets into raw powder and magical essence. And it would prove to be an effective lesson for them, allowing them to actually put all their hard earned knowledge to use, assisted by Nobu'tan naturally, just in case so no mistakes were made.
"I trust everything went well on your trip into Diagon and Knockturn, Nobu'tan…" Lucius said, his ever neutral face expectant of information and answers.
"It was, overall. The goblins will debate over my offer of alliance for when our plans come to fruition, and I have every confidence that they will join us, and their forces and power will be sufficient to make a grand headway into locating the last of the artifacts." Nobu'tan replied.
"You said overall, what went wrong?" Yaxley piped up, and both he and Lucius exchanged a glance that told Nobu'tan that they were in a deep alliance to make sure that they as a whole succeeded, and that meant monitoring even Nobu'tan for signs of recklessness or weakness. While the young warlock approved of their diligence, it still infuriated him that they sought to control even their leader.
"Aurors tried to accost me in Knockturn after I acquired my disguise, luckily I was wearing it but they still tried to hinder me," Nobu'tan added with a shrug, "they're dead now."
As predicted, the whole group froze at the thought that their leader had killed so readily. "It will be fine," the powerful warlock reassured them, "all those who actually saw what I did were denizens of Knockturn, and therefore less than likely to speak concerning what they saw. And even if they do, I was wearing the disguise; it would not assist the investigation in any way as to my true identity.
"Still, it may be advantageous to avoid the alleys for a short while, and allow memories to fade for a bit before you go out to the wizarding marketplace again, at least until you need to meet with the goblins again." Lucius suggested, and the others started to nod in agreement.
"I see that I am outvoted in this, so I consent to the arrangement. However our mission to infiltrate the Ministry goes as planned. I will not allow fear to hinder our goals." Nobu'tan countered. "For this cause, I have decided that our group may need to, in time, expand to incorporate a large number of warlocks, and to that end we will need a structure of command, and an official title that we rally around."
"An order then, much like that which Dumbledore formed to fight the Dark Lord," Lucius summarized.
"Correct," Nobu'tan affirmed. "As with organizations of warlocks that I've experienced in the past, a name that people everywhere will fear to speak has been chosen, and a council of six to lead it. I, Nobu'tan, will be the first of the council. I have chosen that Draco Malfoy, the furthest in knowledge of the ways of the Fel magic, will be the second of the council, followed by his father, Lucius. Theodore will be the fourth, Yaxley the fifth, and Blaise Zabini the sixth."
The four present of the other five announced warlocks took steps forward, separating themselves from the others as they were recognized. If any took offense against so many of the younger children being selected as leaders, the choice of Lucius and Yaxley seemed to cool their worries. "The rest of you fall in order on seniority for positions if one of us falls in battle, accident or through our own folly." Nobu'tan explained, although the grim remaindered seemed to sit unwell with most of the other warlocks.
"And what of our name and symbol?" Goyle Sr. requested.
"Yes, a very important aspect," Nobu'tan agreed, "I put forth to the council, that on this day, we organize as one, to understand and master the powers of demons, and unleash them upon our unsuspecting foes. I declare that we be called, the Order of the Black Harvest, and our symbol be thus…" Nobu'tan flicked his wizard's wand at the air in front of him, and the symbol of a demonic skull appeared, a scythe positioned behind it while felfire leapt from both the blade and the skull's eyes, seeming to scorch to the very soul.
"All those of the council in agreement?" Draco announced, "Aye."
"Aye," added Lucius, Theodore, and Yaxley in order.
"It is agreed my majority," Nobu'tan declared, "we are now the Order of the Black Harvest, and we will prepare the way for our opening to a new world, and learning all the secrets of the demons we subject to our collective will." Nobu'tan declared. The motion was met with nothing of the roars of approval that an orcish clan would produce, but the silent acceptance of his fellow warlocks, even as they all returned to their tasks. With little else to do himself, Nobu'tan summon Theodore and Dolohov, and set to explaining what he desire to accomplish with the enchantments to his new disguise.