Many thanks to those who've reviewed and PMed, your words of praise are always a pleasant sight. Please enjoy the next chapter! ~F
Chapter Seventy Six
Lands of Death
It was a bloody mess, but eventually Blaise emerged from the Shadow Hold, bruised, beaten, but victorious. None but the Dreadlord survived of the Shadow Council, and all their fanatical followers lay dead in his path.
Now; however, lay the dangerous path back to Nobu'tan's side. Having scouted the way back out of the Felwood, Blaise was certain of his trajectory, but the problems were still yet on the horizon. He recalled the fledgling battle between the elves of the forest and the orcs of the other Horde, and from the smoke he could see over the trees in that direction, the conflict was still in full swing.
He had no means of carefully picking his way through a battlefield, where any one of his disguises would have him attacked by one faction or the other, so he had little choice but to find another route out of the forests. The satyrs wouldn't be able to help him this time, as they were also in the same vicinity as the skirmish, and he dared not get too close.
Therefore, he set his path in the opposite direction, looking for any route on the road that took him further south. For a long ways there seemed no possibilities. Then, just as he ascended a small ridge of cliff that started to approach the coast, he spotted a turnoff that diverted to the south. The area was far more dominated by the elves, and his human form seemed enough to prevent them from attacking him on sight, so quickly Blaise took the path and followed it carefully as it curved around the ancient groves and massive trunks of the forest's older trees.
In due time, he saw the mountains rise up over the forest, and as he neared the base, a small path cut through a valley in between the mountains, set upon some elven structures. He was not prepared or willing to converse with the elves on their terms, and highly distrustful of them, but as it was that they paid him no heed, Blaise pushed forward, avidly avoiding each and every grouping of the blue and purple skinned creatures as he made his way for the pass.
The fact that none opposed or called out to him directly spoke of the elves lack of care for other races, and while Blaise inwardly felt disdain for such creatures that thought themselves better than all others, having experienced enough for a lifetime with his own race back on earth, it was a simple matter therefore to pass under their notice and escape through to the mountains.
Unfortunately, he had no idea where this territory led, or how far he would have to travel to find a way across the sea once more, so he wandered a long time, camping out under the stars when he had to rest, and eventually found another road, heading in a southeastern direction, winding through the jagged mountains that rose up like talons toward the sky.
Several times he had to hide himself as orcs on massive wolves thundered past, and in due time he forewent his human form altogether, changing once more into that of an orc traveler. It seemed that the other Horde had a stronger presence in these mountains than the elves, and if that afforded him some measure of safety, and perhaps directions, then he would gladly take it.
It seemed that, if he turned and headed toward the base of the mountains, he would find his way back to the wide sloping grasslands, but a large Horde garrison was there, and fear of the Warchief and his seeming ability to see straight through his disguise spurred Blaise to find another route. That left him one choice, to ascend toward the top of the mountains and try to find another way down.
The road was narrow, and wound its way through several groves of trees and toward a small lake in the higher reaches. There, despite there being a small camp of goblins that seemed to be sizing up the trees and planning some sort of deforestation, Blaise found a path that went off to the west, and turned back to the south and down the mountain once again.
The downside; however, was after he started down this road he could see ahead a section of forest actively burning. "Son of a…" he cursed, stopping on the road and trying to weight his options.
There was clearly a path through this burning section of forest, and a land beyond it that he might pass through, but it seemed that it was passing farther away from where he wished to go. At the same time, he heavily suspected that he had been followed from Theramore, which meant that both Alliance and the other Horde were on to him and his affiliation.
It might even be that a trap awaited him if he went back to those ports and he wouldn't be able to reach his master. Therefore, he set his face toward the blaze before him, and went on; hoping that the seeming grey lands beyond might have more prospects for his needs than risking discovery.
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Kel'Thuzad was pleased. His minions of the cold dark had found his wayward apprentice, disguised as an orc warlock and operating in the central lands of the Eastern Kingdoms, and as far north as Stromgarde and the edges of Hillsbrad.
The Lich remembered those lands fondly, as he had traveled them quite well in his pursuit of the knowledge and power over life and death. "Send out shades to follow him," Kel'Thuzad ordered his underlings, knowing that the commands would find their way to the members of the Cult of the Damned that were in hiding in all factions on Azeroth.
Little did the Hordes know but that necrolytes loyal to the Lich King walked in their midst, and he would be able to cause them to keep tabs on all his enemies, and potential allies.
"Tobias… if that is your real name…" Kel'Thuzad said aloud to himself, relishing the name even as his voice echoed around the chambers of Naxxramas. "The Lich King will value your ingenuity, magical prowess, and strategic mind…"
He had been watching for a time over his former apprentice, even as the young man marshaled the orcs, trolls, and ogres of his Horde into claiming a great deal of territory, and even founding a hatred with the Forsaken, traitorous worms that they were. Idly, the Lich Lord debated what sort of undead the boy had merited with his actions.
Definitely no weak willed ghoul or other frontline soldier of the Scourge. No, Nobu'tan would stand by his side as a powerful undead, if not ascending to lichhood himself. Nothing less could be worthy of the boy's power, and Kel'Thuzad was certain that the Lich King would agree with his assessment.
But for now, he had to wait. Naxxramas was still preparing for the invasion into Azeroth, and while the boy was pressing his forces further northward where they might at last meet, there was still a great deal of Sylvavas' forces in their way.
If they could ally before the time came, it would be most pleasant to catch the Banshee 'Queen' between them and crush her pathetic rebellion once and for all.
Until then, he had to prepare those intelligent forces that awaited his arrival in the Plaguelands. The teachers of Scholomance would greatly desire the boy to learn in their halls, and it would be interesting of Rivendare met with the child as well. The magic of the dead would be of great interest to the mind as cunning and sharp as this one was.
A shade arrived at the lich's side, revealing some information of the boy's travels, and Kel'Thuzad felt a momentary rush of pleasure. The ruins of Dalaran was his personal destination, away from guards or other forces, and deep into the territory that the Forsaken had claimed.
"Set an ambush, and prepare someone of importance to greet our wayward child home. The Lich King will find a great use for Tobias once the powerful caster is dead and risen once more." Kel'Thuzad commanded, "send the corpse to Scholomance, Ras Frostwhisper will know how best to prepare the body for my arrival…"
"Yes Lord…" the shade replied, darting away to forward the orders to all those who served the lord of the dead.
"We will meet soon enough, Tobias," Kel'Thuzad said again, eagerly waiting for that time to come, "and we will have so much to discuss once that happy meeting occurs…"
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Nobu'tan had an odd feeling as he prepared for his journey to the lands of Dalaran. It was almost as though there was something watching him, but even as he looked around his chamber in Blackrock Mountain, there was nothing there.
"Odd…" he said to himself, gathering the last items he desired while continuing to glance around. Rarely had his senses been incorrect in such matters, but he supposed that there was always a chance for him to suffer some human frailty, especially as he started to delve farther into the Fel.
Still, it was a particularly pointed sensation as though a figure was there in the room with him. Well, Nobu'tan hoped that whatever it was had a good time trying to catch him when he shifted across the continent. Changing his normal practice in order to do this, he channeled the power of the arcane and teleported to a location he was familiar with, the ridgeline just outside the cirty outskirts.
He had shifted his illusion to that of a fully fledged mage of the Kirin Tor, but as soon as he arrived, he realized that his disguise was more or less unneeded. The massive bubble of arcane energy over the entire city district of Dalaran was completely opaque and from what Nobu'tan could tell, impervious to any attempts to penetrate it from the outside.
"What could have done this?" he asked aloud, steadily approaching the massive dome of energy.
"The Master will be able to answer that for you…" said a gravelly voice somewhere behind him.
Spinning quickly, Nobu'tan could easily spot that he was surrounded by a handful of figures in black. The skull ornaments and other death motifs told him all he needed to know of where these held their allegiance, but why the masters of the dead were here, prowling the outskirts of Dalaran, was still a mystery.
"And why would your master have any interest in me?" Nobu'tan replied, dropping into a stance that would grant him the clearest opportunities for combat, when the need arose. It was clear that these were intent on killing him, and he was not about to let that happen.
"Oh, Kel'Thuzad has been waiting a long time for you to return… Tobias Banu…" the leader of the necromancers said, raising a hand. At once the half dozen started their spells, and skeletal hands plunged upward from the ground all around him.
Nobu'tan was completely surrounded, but the fact that his old mentor was now in league with the undead was the greater surprise. It changed nothing however, and the Fel surged through at his call, "I will not be taken like some badger in a trap!" he shouted, calling forth a vanguard of Felguards to his aid.
The demonic legionaries charged forward into the swarming ranks of the skeletons and lesser ghouls, their Fel weaponry carving easily through any foe that stood before them. But the necromancers seemed prepared for demons, and bolts of pure blackness flew over the heads of the mindless horde, and one by one the demons fell.
Channeling Fel fire in a wide circle around him, Nobu'tan called upon all his training in the arts of demons and magi. He had learned that fire was the weakness of the dead and rotten, and he would make excellent use of those skills that his training shared. Perhaps, if the fighting grew intense enough, the mages of Dalaran would sense it and open the way for his escape, but even Nobu'tan felt that that was a long shot.
He was utterly alone in this fight. Out of the ground, massive spider creatures surged upward, their spindly legs tramping over and around the lesser minions as they charged toward his ring of green flames.
Allowing the power of the Nether to wash over him, Nobu'tan felt the change slip onto him like a second skin, and the Fel responded in kind, allowing him full mastery over the flames of the Legion. Waves and bolts flew in all directions, pressing the ranks of the dead back time and again, but for every one he killed, the necromancers raised up three more.
Even as Nobu'tan started to wonder what undeath might feel like, he looked up and spotted another small group of undead coming from the north, what surprised him further though were their tabards and banners, the very same as those of the undead female he had fought before.
One of the necromancers screamed as a dark arrow struck the figure in the neck. Falling to the ground, most of his mindless undead slowed, stunned with no will guiding them and Nobu'tan saw his opening.
The flames of the Nether swirled around him once, before exploding outward, pushing back the horde trying to encircle and trap him, and he ran toward his would-be rescuers, claws flashing as he caught a few of the mindless dead along the way.
"For the Dark Lady! For the Forsaken!" the second group was shouting as they attacked the rear lines of the undead, targeting the necromancers first and even throwing vials of plague-like acid at the rest.
Arriving at their lines, Nobu'tan looked over their rotting faces for only a moment, before turning to stand with them, his demonic form towering over even the tallest of their hunched frames.
Raising his arms to the sky, Nobu'tan pulled down a curtain of Felfire, which rained down in sheets over the entire force of the mindless dead, setting many ablaze and scattering them.
"Dreadguards, take them!" the lead Forsaken undead shouted from behind his odd-looking mask. A group of undead, in heavy battle armor and riding skeletal steeds tore off at the command, charging headlong into the battle, swords flashing in the sun as they fell upon their enemies.
"Lord Varimathras sends his regards, warlock…" the undead said respectfully to Nobu'tan, bowing awkwardly.
The warlock did not know the name personally, but he had a strong guess as to whom it belonged. A Dreadlord was loyal to none but the Legion, and therefore it wasn't surprising that in light of the coming conflict between his Horde and the undead that a Dreadlord would be looking for his own interests.
"I see, and what does you master want of me?" Nobu'tan replied, glancing once more at the shattered lines of mindless undead. Slipping quickly back to his orcish form, he deliberately turned away from the battle, showing the Forsaken that he trusted them to take care of their lands without his aid.
"Merely information at this time," the undead leader said simply. "The Dark Lady has just recently departed to meet with the other leaders of the Horde, and Lord Varimathras would like to meet with you in a secret location and discuss certain things regarding priorities for you and him… I myself am not familiar with the specifics, but it was of due importance to him."
"Where?" Nobu'tan asked, the itch to depart this place starting to come over him. Who knew what the denizens within the bubble of magic concealing Dalaran could see.
"In the Tirisfald Glades, there is a massive cavern near to the edge of the Silverpine Forest. Near to that cavern is a tower from the former kingdom. Varimathras will meet you within that tower in a week's time." The undead explained, and Nobu'tan was quite easily able to visualize where and what he would be looking for.
"Understood, I will meet him in a week's time…" Nobu'tan said, turning and preparing to conjure a small teleportation spell back to Blackrock. "I would not remain in this location for long," he advised courteously, "there are things out here willing to hunt and kill undead, as part of my counter to the battle at the wall."
Whether the undead took his warning seriously or not, Nobu'tan wasn't about to concern himself further, even as he passed through the personal gateway to his private quarters in Blackrock. His initial purpose had been foiled, and Dalaran was proven sealed until further notice. However, he had a thought regarding the sensation of being watched he had had before departing.
Sure enough, upon returning the sensation returned, and now that he was partially expecting it, Nobu'tan was able to quickly send out a wisp of magic with his wand, which pinpointed the location of the unseen spy.
Acting as though he had found nothing for a few moments, Nobu'tan waited for the right opportunity. As soon as he started to leave the room, and sensed that the unseen creature moved, he quickly sprung into action.
Whirling in place, he fired several fingers of Felflame at the creature, hearing the sudden shrieks as the creature materialized, revealed a blackened skull in an ethereal shroud of black smoke, even as the thing collapsed to the ground and evaporated.
"So… the dead seek to monitor me…" Nobu'tan said, remembering what the necromancer had mentioned earlier. "Kel'Thuzad... what madness is that old mage up to now…?"
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Thrall looked across the long table of the Horde leaders, sensing the serenity in the elements as the leaders of Tauren, Trolls and Orcs discussed what to do regarding the advent of the Dark Horde. With Onyxia dealt with, they could at last turn their collective attention to the events of the Eastern Kingdoms.
Presently, they were awaiting the arrival of Sylvanas Windrunner, and her report of what had been happening regarding the sacking of Hammerfall in the Arathi Highlands. Thrall knew that the Banshee Queen may very well lie to them, and profess much ignorance of the events in order to attempt to withhold some measure of control on the situation, but he was well apprised of her tricks.
The resources of that region, while predominantly held in the Forsaken's hands, benefitted the Horde as a whole, and it would do well for them to recapture those lands and deal a swift blow to the encroaching faction.
Just as he started to wonder if she would bother showing up at all, the guards outside stiffened, and Thrall sensed the disharmonious tones that heralded the arrival of the cold and calculating Banshee Queen.
"Sylvavnas, thank you for joining us at last," Thrall said, noly gently reprimanding her for her lateness.
"Apologies Warchief, there were matters that had to be taken care of before I was able to depart," she said, neither meaning her words or clarifying just what was more important for her to deal with, but Thrall let it go.
"As you all know," he said, addressing the three other leaders, "the Dark Horde has grown bold these last few months, pushing out beyond their borders. From what we've understood, Stonard has fallen, along with Hammerfall in the Arathi Highlands. The Alliance are not being attacked as of yet, which lends some question to the true power that the Dark Horde holds if they are avoiding a massive war with those on their immediate boarder."
"From what I've learned through various sources, the dwarves of Ironforge have fought several brief skirmishes with them, but otherwise the only major conflicts have been with the Horde…" Cairne mentioned. Thrall was aware that the leader of the Tauren, like Thrall himself, had small ties to the Alliance for the sake of peace.
"But the question that I have, is directed to you, Sylvavas," Thrall continued, turning back to the blank faced Forsaken. Now was the moment of truth. "What happened regarding the taking of Hammerfall?"
There was an almost painful moment of silence where Thrall could see the wheels spinning in the mind of the Banshee, before she finally spoke. "We were taken by surprise. The Dark Horde has a much larger power base than any of us have considered, and the involvement of the Burning Legion is frightening to behold."
The other three listened in stunned silence as Sylvanas recounted her own personal attempt at a counterattack, and the utter failure that they had in even piercing the Dark Horde's line and entering Arathi once more.
"But I have a plan…" she said at last, after finishing her story.
Thrall felt something particularly off by the near-state of glee in the Banshee's voice as she mentioned her plan.
"The Elves of Quel'Thalas have long been abandoned by the Alliance, and are desperately trying to rebuild their kingdom in the midst of Prince Kael'thas' disappearance and the remnant of the Scourge ravaging their lands. My Dark Rangers are waiting for my return to set out and start working to clear away the Scourge from the immediate area of Silvermoon, and in other ways aid the Blood Elves, hopefully opening the doors for them to join the Horde." She explained with a grin.
This was unexpected, and made Thrall very uneasy. The reasons that the Forsaken were part of the Horde was a matter that none of them were oblivious of. They needed the pact between their races to survive, or else the Alliance would stop at nothing to exterminate them and reclaim the lands of Lordaeron. It was purely selfish on the part of Sylvanas, and the Blood Elves would be no different. They were loyal to Kael'thas alone, and likely sough to follow him wherever their prince had disappeared to.
There was also what the Forsaken hoped to gain out of such a move: a second ally in the north of the Eastern Kingdoms, one that they could rely upon to fight back against the Dark Horde. While on the surface it seemed reasonable and quite effective, Thrall had his suspicions.
"That does not immediately solve the problem of the enemy being literally on your doorstep, Sylvanas, what are your plans regarding the Dark Horde specifically," Thrall asked, sidestepping the other topic for the time being. He would consider the Blood Elves in due time, but not now.
The Queen of the Forsaken; however, would not be swayed elsewhere, "The Blood Elves are the perfect answer. The threat of the Forest Trolls, on top of the scourge, would be sufficient for at least a temporary alliance against the Dark Horde, one that in time we could build upon for a more long term integration of their people into the Horde fully."
That caused pause among the other members of the leadership of the Horde. Thrall had not considered that the Forest Trolls were indeed likely to rejoin with the Dark Horde, and with their capital of Zul'Aman on the edges of Silvermoon, it would pose itself as a threat to the Blood Elves. Allies or not, could the Horde allow an independent race to be wiped out if the Dark Horde sought the blood of the elves?
"That does add a complication…" he admitted, considering quickly.
"Exactly, Warchief," Sylvavnas insisted, "I will send out my people to ascertain the situation, lend a small amount of aid to the Blood Elves, and convince them of the danger the Dark Horde poises, and request their aid in preventing them from advancing any further north."
Thrall noted that she mentioned nothing of eliminating the threat of the Forest Trolls for good, which would naturally end the reason for the elves to continue aiding the Horde, but he said nothing regarding it.
Unfortunately, he couldn't say no to this reasonable request. "I'll allow it, but the main force of the Horde will work to shoring up the defenses in Hillsbrad and reinforcing the front of that warzone, while your people focus on Silvermoon."
"Understood, Warchief," the Banshee Queen stated, and Thrall knew that she was pleased at her act of manipulation. She had just claimed much for her own cause and sacrificed little in return that she wasn't already about to do regardless. But if it kept her in line with the Horde's agenda for the time being, then it was worth it.
"Carine, Vol'jin, what forces can we send to Hillsbrad?" Thrall said, turning to the other two leaders. They had much to prepare for if they were to strengthen the Forsaken bastions in that land.
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Voldemort glowered at the tarnished armor, all which remained of the Dreadlord that he and Nathanos had slain. "It seemed almost too easy," he mentioned, even as the undead ranger stowed the head of the creature away in a sack.
Once the head had been removed, the entire body had evaporated, leaving very little of the demon's former possessions behind. Striding forward, Voldemort took note of a book stashed away in the armor, and claimed it for himself, examining the strange lettering of it. It had necromantic energy about it, and he felt a certain amount of ownership regarding that.
"Yes, the Dark Lady will want to know that Balnazzar survived her purge of the Dreadlords from this land, but come, there is still the leader of the Scourge forces to deal with now," Nathanos said, standing and turning to leave the bastion as quickly as they entered.
Their passage went mostly unnoticed, as behind them the Scourge undead had charged into the bastion, and were savagely fighting with the remnant of the Scarlet Crusade. It seemed clear that the humans were trapped, and would not survive much longer now that their leader was dead.
The pair retraced their steps, only dealing with minor influxes of undead that had filtered back into the streets they had cleared, until they once more saw the small chapel in the initial courtyard they had used to enter the city.
"And now for the more difficult and far more defended section of the city," Nathanos explained, pointing at the massive buildings that towered over the internal walls of Stratholme. Voldemort guessed that they were not part of the original architecture, from their vastly different design and the green lights glittering off the crystals and dark obsidian stone.
The portcullises blocking them from that section of the city were well rusted and it took a deal of effort to hoist them up long enough for the small group of undead to pass through. On the far side, the street was crowded with various undead, ghouls, banshees, gargoyle and large spider-like creatures that Nathanos identified as crypt fields.
"The living are here!" wailed a darkened shade, appearing and sounding an alarm, causing the nearest groups of mindless undead to converge on them.
Voldemort scoffed at the incorrect assumption was made regarding their status as alive, but that was beside the point. They were intruders and now the section of the city was aware. Slashing heavily at a leaping ghoul, Voldemort pushed his way forward, clenching his free hand, and allowing his power of the magic of death to silence the hideous voice that the ghostly creature was trying to afflict them with.
"Which way!" Vodemort called, spinning away from the massive crypt fiend as it tried to ensnare him in webs. The road forked at this point and Voldemort had no choice but to trust Nathanos to know the way.
"Left!" the Blightcaller replied, even as one of his hounds leapt at the ghoul he was struggling with.
Setting his sights on the indicated direction, Voldemort allowed the destructive forces he commanded to charge his weapon. Lunging forward, he drove the mindless dead before him, pushing his way down the left turn of the junction, which led down to a large plaza, and one of the massive, eerie structures.
Before the entrance of the structure, a massive crypt fiend awaited, the six leg-like appendages twitching in the beast's desire to decent to the cobblestones and attack them. And yet, while Voldemort clove necromancers and lesser undead in his path toward the building, it awaited them hissing and clicking.
Finally, it charged down the steps when Voldemort and Nathanos approached the steps, the rangers keeping the remaining mindless at bay with crossbow bolts and his hounds. Voldemort was tired of taking point in attack each and every threat head on, but nevertheless he was compelled to charge in and attack the crypt fiend. The two tiny arm-like appendages tried to block the slashing blade, but Voldemort ducked low. A powerful swing cut off one of the front legs, destabilizing the balance of the creature and causing it to stagger forward.
A blast of webbing shot from the creature's mouth, but Voldemort turned, catching the sticky mass on his cloak, before following through on his spin and lodging the blade of his weapon deeply into the neck of the beast.
The beast shuddered and collapsed, and as it did the door to the interior of the building swung open, releasing a group of black robed acolytes, trying to flee or fight for their fallen guardian. Voldemort butchered these without pause and moved inside, Nathanos following quickly.
"A Nerubian Ziggurat," the undead explained, even as he moved to the center of the building. "Judging from the magic in the air, and the number of these throughout the quarter, they might be protecting the main portion of the Scourge's base."
And as Voldemort looked at the center platform of the building, he could indeed sense the necromantic magic that was flowing up and out over the rest of the city. That was, until Nathanos touched a small glowing gem floating over the platform, which darkened and fell to the ground with a thud. Then the energy immediately ceased, and most of the lights in the building dimmed.
"I'd guess there was at least two more protecting the internal section of the quarter," Nathanos continued, already moving back to the entrance of the small building.
"We should backtrack and take the other fork instead of continuing," he added as they reentered the open air, noticing the bent and damaged portcullis that linked the square they were in to another equally infested square.
"We'd have to circle around either way," Voldemort commented, taking note of the damaged and warped bars that would make opening the portcullis very difficult.
"True…" the Blightcaller acknowledged, already making his way down and back, shooting a zombie that attempted to charge him, dropping it with the arrow in its head.
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Kel'Thuzad was disappointed when the news returned swiftly on Tobias slipping through the trap he had set. It was worse that the shade he had had sent to Blackrock Mountain was discovered and eliminated. Now all that was left were the members of the Cult of the Damned that lingered in and among the orc clans of the Dark Horde, but they were few.
Far more populated were the humans in and around Stormwind, who were more numerous and aware of the influence that the Dark Horde was now having on the humans of that major kingdom of the Alliance that was left. The new family that had risen to great influence, the Malfoys, seemed to be affiliated with Tobias, and they had the ear of the royals of Stormwind.
Possibly there would be a way Kel'Thuzad could use them to get closer to his former apprentice, but he was more hesitant to make such an open move just yet. It would be too soon and reveal too much for the possibility of the rest of the Lich King's plans for Azeroth.
For the time, they would just monitor from afar, and continue to prepare for the advent of Naxxramas back to the rest of the world. It wouldn't be too much longer, in the time scheme of the dead at least.
Even still, Kel'Thuzad was anxious to depart the frozen Dragonblight and take up his lordship over the northern Plaguelands of the Eastern Kingdoms. He would have launched the attack already, if not for the commands of the Lich King, which held him back. The reasons behind the waiting were not yet shared with Kel'Thuzad, although he had suspicions that it had to do with activities in the southern portion of Kalimdor.
There was at least a great deal of things to do in the meantime at least: experiments to run and many more fantastic methods of killing the living to prepare for the invasion. Kel'Thuzad was looking forward specifically to how they would be besieging Lordaeron to strike back at the betrayal of Sylvavnas and her rebel Forsaken.
And the fact that Tobias had been rescued by his necromancers by the Forsaken made the plans for their end all the sweeter.
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Blaise looked out over the barren and lifeless land with disdain. It was unlikely that there would be anything of value for Lord Nobu'tan in this place, but at least it was devoid of warring factions that prevent him from finding a potential route back to the sea.
The greenery of the very edge gave away rapidly, and the flying vultures gave credence to the absolute loneliness of this place, even as he slowly picked his way along the road to the south.
That was until he rounded the first bend that drove away from the ridge on his left, and spotted distinctly Horde structures. He swore loudly, but contained himself. There were no roving war bands, no wolf riders, and most especially no mobilizing armies, so he may be able to slip past unnoticed.
But when he neared and was able to see the figures watching him closely, he paused. The banners were not that of Thrall's Horde, but of an individual clan. He had purposefully memorized the clans that Nobu'tan had known long ago, and the flaming sword was a clear indication that these orcs had no affiliation with the rest of the orcs on the continent, but rather were allies of the Burning Legion.
That was fortunate, for Blaise at the least, as it was another group that he could infiltrate and eliminate if necessary, subject to the true Horde once more at best. He immediately turned and started toward the fortress as a casual pace, catching the attention of the grunts guarding the front.
The event must have been strange enough of an occurrence, because the guards did not advance immediately, but they did raise their axes as though anticipating an attack. "Throm'ka, warriors," Blaise said in his disguise. The orcs paused in the movement, surprised that he even addressed them.
"Throm'ka, warlock," one replied, hesitantly.
"Direct me to the leader of this fortress, I have come far with a message," Blaise said softly, watching their reactions as they looked at each other in confusion.
Looking up and around for a brief moment, Blaise caught the scent of the Fel, "Whichever warlock is the leader will suffice," he added, making the decision easier for the grunts.
"We'll lead you to Kohor, then…" one said, turning to enter the fortress while the other remained at the gate.
Blaise followed swiftly, sizing up the status of the base. Surprisingly there were very few orcs around, and no other races by which to speak of. A handful of watchtowers peered over the palisade wall of timbers, with a single barracks and a stronghold building as the focal point of the base. But it was to none of these that the grunt led him to. Rather, he stopped just outside a cave at the back of the fortress, and indicated within. "Kohor is in there, preparing some sort of ritual…"
Blaise just nodded, even as the grunt departed, and started forward into the cave. The Fel was growing stronger in here, but it did not feel like it was from a living warlock. There must have been some powerful Fel artifact.
"Who goes there?" a voice came from the back of the cave.
"I come bearing a message from Horde forces across the sea…" Blaise said, seeking out the source of the voice.
"Bah, I care not what the other warlocks have to say!" the orc within spat, even as Blaise started to make out the shape in the darkness. "The Shadow Council takes too much for granted, and are completely obsessed with their demon masters. They have forgotten what Gul'dan stood for."
Blaise could feel the smirk spreading across his face. "Well, it is good that I represent another…" he said casually, catching the attention of the ranting orc. He stepped forward quickly, allowing the light to shine on his eager face.
"Tell me, whom do you serve," he demanded, more than curious now.
"I serve the apprentice of Gul'dan, long lost on another world, but now returned to reestablish the Stormreaver Clan." Blaise said, casually moving his robe aside to reveal the tabard on his chest of the Clan's insignia. His other hand dropped to his dagger just in case the worst was to occur.
"I knew one day someone more worthy than that vile Fel'Dan would appear. What can the Burning Blade of Thunder Axe Fortress do for the reunification of the true Horde?"
"Prepare this fortress, it will be out foothold in this land," Blaise said, smirking as fulfilling wishes of his master to secure a location on Kalimdor for their use.