Many thanks to those who've reviewed, words of encouragement mean a lot for us writers. Please enjoy the next chapter! ~F

Chapter Eighty Eight

Dire Maul

Teg'Ramm wasn't sure how much he could trust Tenebrous regarding his personal "investigation" in the other part of the ruins. But if it benefitted the Dark Horde in some fashion, then he would hold off his judgement and counteraction to prevent it for the time being.

Focusing ahead, Teg'Ramm led his force through the small gate that had been indicated, entering into a large courtyard where the other ogre clan kept the majority of their hyena hounds. Typically this would be a problem, with so many hounds that would gladly attack anyone they smelled to be an intruder, but the warlocks of the Balefire Clan had a counter to such lesser beings.

Teg'Ramm breathed in deeply, focusing on the Fel and drawing the power into himself. Through rituals and the other experiences he had endured in his life as a member of Nobu'tan's inner circle, he had become a potential font of the demonic magic. There were, however; some strange outcomes from permitting his form to fill up with Fel power.

Teg'Ramm could feel the physical changes, spikes and claw erupting from his shoulers, heads and fingers, even as he sensed magic raging around him. The nearest hyenas reacted instantly, cowering away in fear as the demonic energy wafted over the other warlocks followed suit, and Teg'Ramm led the way into the square, scattering the hounds as their instinct to avoid extreme danger kicked in.

The handful of ogres that were there tending the hyenas saw the reaction, and only a foolish few dared advance with their weapons raised at Teg'Ramm.

The ogre mage lord didn't even pause to consider the wooden club as it collided pitifully with his engorged form. Instead, a clawed hand shot forward and grasped the head of the offending ogre, causing the bumbling fool to release his weapon and struggle feebly as Teg'Ramm crushed the skull with his Fel empowered strength.

That halted the others in their stride, realizing that the foe before them was significantly more powerful than they. It was almost amusing to see their pitiful, unenlightened minds register the peril that they were in by threatening Teg'Ramm with their weapons.

As one they followed suit of their hounds, dropping their weapons and cowering back, ceasing to prevent Teg'Ramm from leading his force deeper into the city's quarter. Larger ogres lounged on a raised tier from the dog kennels, along with magi and shaman.

The arcane casters and shaman were the first to sense Teg'Ramm's arrival, turning with wide eyes to view the hulking form that Teg'Ramm knew he had transformed into. Intimidation poured freely from this form, along with the threat of a demonic horde at a mere wish and a gesture of his fingers. But to slay so many potneitial warriors would be inefficient to his purpose, so Teg'Ramm strode carefully through the midst of them, enjoying the fear that wafted through the other ogres at his passing.

The chief guard before the next doors was not so easily intimidated however. The creature must have been zealously loyal to his clan leader, as he armored ogre stood his ground as Teg'Ramm approached, before roaring a challenge and attacking, axe swinging overhead and shield held defensively in front of him.

The bravery amused Teg'Ramm, and in a moment of mercy decided to preserve the life of this guard. Nevertheless, he was in the way, and had to be neutralized in order for the Balefire ogres to proceed. To that end, Teg'Ramm knocked the bladed strike aside, grabbing the oger by the chest as he was knockjed off course by the counter. Failing as Teg'Ramm lifted him from the ground, the guard struggled mightily until the Balefire Chieftain threw him mightly against the stone wall.

From the shattering crash from the impact and the sizeable hole that the ogre was lodged in, it was clear that the guard had been knocked unconscious. The minor bleeding from deep gouges from the stone would heal quickly with magical aid, but it was still an effective show of force to cow the rest of the ogres from even thinking of resisting.

Often, it only took one fool to rile up the rest of a clan into a savage blood frenzy, even without magic, and that was the last thing that Teg'Ramm wanted to deal with.

Venturing inside the next building, its winding corridors were particular narrow and low for ogres, leaving little to no space above their heads. Teg'Ramm wondered why the clan had chosen these ruins if they were so uncomfortable to travel through. The ogres beyond were somewhat bolder, and had their own warlocks in their ranks.

However, these spellcasters were definitely not even remotely close to the power of the Balefire Clan warlocks, and their pitiful demonic summons were crushed effortlessly by the shock troops that Teg'Ramm had complimented his force with. Another heavily armored guard charge into their ranks, his own axe flailing wildly in any attempt to harm the significantly better equipped attackers.

Teg'Ramm, who had fallen behind from the others while investigating some crude scrawls on the walls of the building, sighed as he turned and approached the new foe. His own warriors were not even trying to fight back, just defending themselves with shields from the wild, glancing blows.

Teg'Ramm grasped the other ogre by the torso, spinning him violently as he placed the other massive fist into the face of the other ogre staggard back, dazed but still on his feet, so Teg'Ramm followed up the devastating punch with another three, stopping as the ogre collapsed in a heap on the floor, bloodied but most assuredly alive.

The chamber opened up after that tight corridor, revealing a vaulted ceiling and ramps that led to a second floor above them. Teg'Ramm sensed more minor warlocks ahead, and presumed that the remainder of the clan resided on this second floor.

"Secure this floor, and prevent any force from following as I go on to confront their leader," Teg'Ramm ordered, gesturing at the warriors and handful of shaman that had been part of their assault force. They nodded, taking up strategic positions through the bottom floor of the chamber, cowing the resident ogres into submission.

Meanwhile, Teg'Ramm led the rest of the Balefire Clan force, primarily the warlocks, on to the ramps up to the next floor. The structure seemed less than stable as Teg'Ramm put his magnified weight upon it, but it still stood as he ascended, towering ofver the other ogres that they found there. He needn't even demand the direction of their leader, because each of the ogres seemed to glance in the correct direction to go, as well as the path being fairly linear.

Turning into another long, straight corridor, Teg'Ramm saw sunlight pouring down from an outside area, but the corridor was choked with guards that seemed more than willing to actually fight rather than back down and permit Teg'Ramm to pass.

"Crush these punys!" their leader shouted, a larger ogre wielding a greataxe.

"Spare as many as you can, I want them taken alive…" Teg'Ramm said calmly, cracking his knuckes as he prepared for a fight. Their clubs, staffs and other weapons more or less bounced off the Fel-hardened hides of the Balefire warlocks, and with the demonic power behind their fists, they began beating their way through the other ogres' lines, knocking out as many as they could.

Teg'Ramm was sure that a few would die from their wounds, but he refrained from actually ripping off limbs or heads as he reached the massive axe-wielding leader. Surprisingly, the axe seemed to be enchanted, as it dug deeply into Teg'Ramm's flesh, even as the Balefire lord turned and grabbed the back of the other ogre's head, slamming him forcefully into the ground.

The blade of the axe was still imbedded in his side, and the pain of it may have affected Teg'Ramm's strength when he pummeled the leader in retaliation. Standing once the other ogre stopped resisting, he growled loudly as he wrenched the axe free, contemplating removing the ogre leader's head with his own weapon.

In the end, he thought better of it, and simply dropped the weapon, using a small burst of Fel magic to siphon the life from a nearby hyena hound to mend the wound, slaying the beast in the process.

Leaving the corridor filled with the unconscious and possibly dead, Teg'Ramm stepped into the sunlight of the rearmost chamber. It was a large, circular room, possibly once a garden, with some sort of stone platform in the center of it, whereupon the largest ogre yet waited. A blue-skinner, two-headed ogre mage was at his side, acting as some sort of advisor most likely, but Teg'Ramm only focused on the leader of these ogres.

Pounding his chest, Teg'Ramm stepped forward and addressed the other ogre, "I, Teg'Ramm of the Balefire Clan, challenge you for leadership!"

The other leader shifted uneasily, clearly intimidated by Teg'Ramm, and looked toward his advisor. Clearly, the ogre was seeking for some manner of escape, but the blue-skinned ogre merely nodded.

The advisor stepped forward, "King Gordok accepts all challenges to his rule!" the oger shouted, much to the dismay of his leader, and this caused both Teg and Ramm to smirk. Advancing, he leapt atop the massive platform that the other two ogres were standing upon.

This King Gordok still looked extremely nervous, but nevertheless hefted the large greatsword into the air. Teg'Ramm didn't even wait for the ogre king to initate the combat, but rather leapt forward with a roar, knocking the large blade aside as the leader of the Gordok ogres swung his weapon in pure reactional terror.

The Fel coursing through him, Teg'Ramm had no issue grabbing the arm of the other ogre that held the sword, and with a howl of agony from his new victim, ripped the limb free of its socket. The king fell to the ground, bleating like a stuck pig, snot and tears flowing freely from his face. Planting a foot on the side of the ogre's face, Teg'Ramm threw his weight onto the other ogre with extreme force.

In what had to be an excruciating amount of agony, the ogre screamed, before there was an audible crack, and he fell silent. Turning to the other, blue-skinned ogre, Teg'Ramm snarled, daring him to challenge that the Balefire Lord had won the contest with no effort.

"The King is dead!" the other ogre bellowed, his voice magically echoing through the chamber. Teg'Ramm snarled, and almost advanced to attack, but the blue-skinned advisor flinched back. "Summon Mizzle da Crafty! He knows what to do next!"

Another ogre stepped forward from the shadows, bending over to examine the corpse of their previous leader. "Yar, he's dead all right." The ogre, Teg'Ramm presumed the one called Mizle, then turned to him, "That makes you da new king… all of Gordok is yours now, boss!"

"What is your first command for us, King!" the other, blue ogre asked.

"Have the entire clan gather all their possessions." Teg'Ramm said, rising to his maxmimum height and gazing across the courtyard, where the other ogres who had shied away were now approaching and kneeling in submission. "We're leaving these ruins. You are separate Gordok Clan ogres no longer! You will join the Balefire Clan, and become great under my leadership!"

"You're da Boss!" Mizzle said, and the other ogre nodded in agreement.

"I, Cho'Rush, will assemble the entire clan as you command, King!" the two-headed ogre affirmed, before scrambling away from the dais and out the door to the corridor filled with knocked out guards.

"Wake up you limps! Da new King has orders!" he started shouted as he ran, the voices of his two heads growing dimmer as he drew away.

Teg'Ramm waited for the foolish two-head to disappear before focusing on the Fel, trying to banish the excess power from his body. It took an extreme amount of effort, which was inverted from the ease that came in drawing that much power into his body.

But through sheer force of will, and creative use of flame to relight all the light sources in the area with the green burning Felfire, Teg'Ramm reverted to his normal form. The other warlocks followed suit, some swifter than others. Teg'Ramm took note that this powerful invocation of the Fel was clearly a dangerous tool, and resolved to use it sparingly.

Curiously, even though Teg'Ramm could tell that the excess Fel had been purged from his body, some of the spikes, and one clawed hand, remained.

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Bliase stalked ahead of the group of ogres, scouting ahead to the next massive chamber. The corridor had led to what seemed to be a large garden. Living, moving trees wandered across the walkways and through the dead and dried soil.

What was most curious was the massive crystal pylon in the center of the dirt patch, surrounded by hulking arcane elementals. What was more, the pylon seemed to be some sort of power source for a larger network or spell somewhere deeper in this section of the ruined city.

While typically it would be rather unwise, Blaise felt strongly that they ought to disable the pylon just to see what the reaction would occur.

What was more; he could see, from a bird's eye vantage via an Eye of Kil'rogg, that there were hordes of spirits and lingering dead, primarily around the upper floor of the structure just past the little garden area, as well as more pylons. He could only guess how many there were, but he had a feeling that there couldn't be too many, with how they were spaced out from each other and judging from the size of the structure ahead of them.

Returning to his force of Balefire ogres, Blaise emerged from his magically enhanced shadows. "There are some magically powered crystals through the area ahead." He explained, "we need to clear out the area around it of all reistance so I can examine them and determine what ought to be done about them."

"As you wish… Lord Tenebrous," the ogre warlock leader of the small strike force.

Blaise knew that they did not fully trust him, nor did he want them to. They were right to question his motives, as it was part of being a fully fledged sentient, and while he did not intend any tretchery, it would serve them in the future if – and he suspected when – traitors started to make themselves known in the Dark Horde.

The ogres were some of the most loyal to Nobu'tan, and Blaise felt strongly that they would be needed as enforcers and inquisitors to flush out any others that tried to oppose their objectives once the Dark Horde started to swell beyond their immediate lands.

Nevertheless, the ogres found no reason to question Bliase, and marched forward into the garden area. Quickly they attached the attention of the walking, sentient trees. The hulking things rallied quickly to try and push back against what was clearly identified as an invasion to their territory.

A foolish venture, blaise noted, as the Balefire ogres were more than prepared for such an attack. The shaman among their group raised his arms and yelled, the primal fury surging through each of the heavily armed warriors, and they brandished their axes with fire in their eyes.

The warlocks with them hurled burst of flame, igniting the upper branches of the tree-folk creatures, while the others hacked mightily with their weapons, reducing many of the attackers to splinters. Once the firewood had been removed from trying to actually kill them, the ogres moved on to the elementals surrounding the pylon.

Surprisingly, the axes and other weapons of the warrior ogres affected the pure magical creatures just as well as spells, and Blaise scarcily had to lift a finger before they too were reduced to fine powder and the enchanted bracers that bound them to the world.

Curiously, as the alst one perished, the pylon sputtered and died, the inner light pulsing once before going completely out. What was more impressive was the discharge of arcane magic that rippled through the entire area, and Blaise disctintly felt something farther in react to the loss of the power source.

Studying the pylon up close, Bliase was able to determine more of its nature. It seemed that while being a genitor for arcane power, it was being used to sustain some sort of barrier spell, like the arcane version of a ward that the wizards of earth could cast. Etching covered the crystalline surface, detailing out a runic script that was unknown to Blaise, which indicated its age and diverse origin.

While he had studied the languages of orcs and human in this place, this was something else, more refined and elegent in appearance, and if he was to guess Blaise would say that elves had created it.

Still, they had a job to accomplish, and studying the first pylon would only waste their precious time. Moving on, at the far end of the garden chamber were a trio of ramps, two going upward on either side of a larger that decended to another courtyard, where an even larger tree-like being resided.

"Perhaps there is a way around it," Bliase mused aloud. Although he had ever confidence that the ogres could handle the creature, the fight would be a waste of energy if they could bypass the tree completely. To that end, they went to the rightmost ramp, and followed it upward and over to a covered section of the upper floor.

Spirits roamed inside, seeming in a trance-like state and unresponsive to their presence. Blaise, ever the cautious one however, decided that they ought to keep their distance. Across from them ina small antechamber was another ramp upward that led to the top floor, which function more like a roof than anything. The hum of magical energy wafted down from there, and Blaise knew from his scouting that there was multiple pylone located there.

More out of curiosity than actual knowledge of need, he indicated that firection for their soldier to pursue. However, as soon as they entered the covered antechamber, the wandering spirits ceased to be listless and ignorant of them, and attacked.

With wand and Fel power, Blaise aided the ogre casters with clearing out the handful of spirits that had been there, while the warrior ogres kept them at bay with their massive swinging weapons.

Pressing on as the last ghost vanished into a smattering of ectoplasm littering the ground, Blaise led the troop of ogres up to the next floor, and spotted the two pylons that flanked either side of the long causeway that encircled the courtyard with the hulking tree-creature.

Countless spirits of elves and other undead meandered on this floor, seeming to be locked in the day-to-day activities that they pursued in life. "Crush them all, we need to deactivate those two pylons," Blaise ordered, and the ogres obeyed.

It was an odd sight, the brutality of the ogres tempered by the fact that their targets were already dead, and possessed not even blood to spray across the stones as the massive weapons impacted their bones or spirit forms.

For his part, Blaise circled around the forward push of the ogres, getting closer to the first pylon and seeing about picking off some of the elementals as the others cleared a safe space for them to rest.

Unfortunately, it seemed that the four elementals that guarded each pylon were connected in some manner, as his attempted to attack a single one of them attracted the ire of all. The four creatures flowed over the ground toward Blaise, but his wand was already at the ready, and spells blasted from the tip, even as he derw a dagger with the other hand.

It was a short battle, but he did not escape completely unscathed. Battered by the massive hands of the elementals, and definitely brusied in many places, Blaise was sure that he would not attempt that same maneuver again with the rest of the pylons, and watched as the second one deactivated with an explosion of arcane magic.

The ogres continued their circle around the edge of the uppermost catwalk, crushing everything that stood in their way. The monotony of the task of following after the warpath that the Balefire clan carved their path allowed Blaise to think hard about what he was planning to do. Apparently, once he found the central focus of Fel magic in this place, coupled with what seemed to be a wearing of the fabric to the Twisting Nether, he would be able to use items that he had gathered secretively to open a portal to another Legion world.

From there, he would be able to bind one of the powerful dreadsteeds, and develop the spell required to summon the creatures. If everything went according to plan, he would slip in and do so without attracting the notice of Lord Hel'nurath of Xoroth: the world that the Fel horses occupied.

Once the next pylon was destroyed, Bliase looked around, determining that there was no means of progressive deeper into the structure from here, and aside from the pylons themselves there was no purpose for this upper area. "We need to get down there," he indicated, pointing out the courtyard they overlooked, and the massive tree-creature, that seemed to be resting in a near sleep-like state.

The ogres nodded, and set off to backtrack to the initial area of the series of courtyards, Blaise focusing more on the task that was ahead rather than the events around them. There would be a great deal of danger in this, directly angering a servant of the Legion, and if he was to succeed there would need to be a great deal of subtlety and skill.

He scarcily noticed when they arrived in the lower courtyard, and didn't even participate when the ogres confronted and killed the massive tree that waited there like a sleeping guard. A door in at the back part of the courtyard opened, and the sensation of Fel magic beyond it, as well as the hum of powerful arcane was the only thing that drew Blaise's attention out of his thoughts.

"So this is where the challenge actually begins…" he said to himself, recognizing the sensation of moderately powerful creatures of Fel somewhere ahead.

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Thrall rested uneasily in Grommash Hold, having returned to Orgrimmar after the great battle at Thoradin's Wall. The power of the warlock leader of the Dark Horde was frightening, and their ingenuity was something that rivaled many of the other factions, although Thrall thought that there might be some goblins and gnomes that could give the Dark Horde a run for their money in that regard.

Still, none of these were allied with the Horde, unless he was willing to dip heavily into the Horde's finances in order to hire Gazlowe and his people from Ratchet to compliment their warriors. Unfortunately, that was something he was unwilling to do, and the fight seemed to be something that had been pushed to a stalemate for the time being. Sylvanas and Lor'themar had sent word that they found another route into Arathi, and were working to exploit it to their advantage, but Thrall had many other things that he had to see to on Kalimdor to attend to the Dark Horde matter himself any further.

He had assigned Saurfang to assist and oversee the battle there, and unhappily turned to the day-to-day activities of managing the massive infrastructure of the Horde through Kalimdor. The problems in Ashenvale continued, the Warsong orcs and Night Elves continuing a near endless battle over the lumber that the forest could potentially grant for them, and there was word of a massive Alliance fleet coming across the sea to Theramore. Jaina had already warned him of this, and insisted that the arm,y was turning south toward another threat that exsisted in the southern deserts of Kalimdor.

However, Thrall had insisted to know more, as if it was great enough for the Alliance to cross the sea to deal with, he needed to be aware as one who lived on the same continent. Thrall had never heard of these silithids creatures, but the Twilight Hammer Cult was something he was vastle aware of. They, alongside the Shadow Council, were working in the shadows to try and tear the Horde apart under his own feet.

Thrall knew that he could not allow Varian to show up the entire Horde with a purely Alliance campaign to eliminate a problem that was initially brought to this world by the orcs. It would direly stretch their warriors, who were split between Grom'gal, Arathi, as well as their other holdings, but the Cenarian Circle was comprised of Tauren as well as Night Elves, therefore the Horde would make a show of support to the druids.

Drafting a message to Carine, Thrall detailed the threat, and urged his old friend to rally his warriors, shaman and druids and sent them to aid the Druids in the south. Thrall would gather what adventurers he could and send them to the south as well, as there were few orcish or troll soldiers left to spare. Apparently the Alliance company was made up of much the same: adventurers and a sparse group of warriors, therefore he felt no shame in giving a similar amount.

Turning as an orc entered the Hold, Thrall was curious to see that it was a messanger for him. "Where have you come from, warrior?" Thrall asked, wondering just who was sending a missive at this point.

"Desolace, Warchief," the grunt replied, holding out the parchment, "I serve there at Shadowprey Village, this is from Rexxar."

Thrall raised hios eyebrows at that news. The Champion of the Horde rarely contacted them back in Orgrimmar. Despite the favor that had been gained from the Mok'Nathal during the Kul'Tiran war, the beastmaster had returned to his solitary life, wandering the most dangerous places and monitoring the natural world.

Something had to be severely wrong if he was reaching out to Thrall specifically. "Thank you, warrior," Thrall stated, taking the scroll and unrolling it swiftly. The writing was crude, but legible as orcish, and Thrall's brow furrowed even further as he read.

Rexxar stated in no uncertain terms that there had been a significant change to the nature of Desolace. The warlocks and Shadow Council allies had all abandoned their fields of portals, and withdrawn into Thunder Axe Fortress, reinforcing the structure and seeming to be under a much stricter and more intelligent leadership.

Despite knowing that the Champion would have no knowledge of the Dark Horde, Thrall worried that somehow the other faction had made their way across the sea, slipping past their eyes and ears, as well as that of Jaina, and settled into the dense faction out there in those wastes.

The last thing they needed was another front for the war between both Hordes, and Thrall was placed into a state of deep thought, wondering just what he was to do about this. He had no additional troops for a third conflict in so quick a time.

At the same time, they could not allow the Dark Horde to start pushing its influence through Kalimdor at the same time as the Eastern Kingdoms. Thrall was still puzzled on how exactly they managed to build up so fast, and how the Dark Horde still had warriors and resources to spare. The Burning Steppes were not known for their abundant fields or extensive forests for gathering supplies for an army, let alone the drain of weathering a siege in the north.

It gave the impression of a limitless army, with the Legion backing it in the shadows, just waiting for the moment to strike. A forboding notion to think about, and Thrall heavily suspected that the resurgent Dark Horde was yet another attempt by the demons to open the way to their world and destroy it.

"I want sentries to be placed at the southern entrance of the Barrens, at the elevators to Thousand Needles," Thrall ordered, thinking swiftly of what they could do, "As well as reinforcing the entrances to Ashenvale and Stonetalon. Tell Rexxar to monitor the Dark Horde, and that they are not just a faction of rabble orcs but a fully formidable force that had demonic allies in the shadows. If they start to move out of Desolace I want to know of it."

"Yes, Warchief," the messanger said. He saluted with a pounded fist on the chest, and departed. This did little to ease Thrall's unease, as just strengthing the monitoring of their borders, while all that Thrall could do with what resources he had left, felt limited and in vain to attempt.

Turning to sit back on his throne-like chair, Thrall lost himself in thought and worry. It almost seemed that the Dark Horde was going around trying to assimilate all the fractured orc detractors, offering them a chance at the glory that once supposedly exsisted in the grasp of the Legion. It was as though the resurgent idea came to undo everything that Thrall had struggled to remove from the Horde.

It was a sobering notion, seeming that they had come full circle, and he was trying to purge the demonic taint from his people all over again.

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Jaina could sense when the ship containing Tobias Banu arrived at Theramore. The man seemed to simply exhude an aura of the Fel around him, and anyone with heightened magical senses could determine his location from a great distance.

Unfortunately, it seemed that the three ships of soldiers and adventurers from Stormwind had not gotten separated in their travel, and were docked in the extensive harbor for the island. Still, Jaina was not terribly sure she wanted a warlock as powerful as Banu to stay on her island for long. The man was dangerous, and clearly had some sort of hidden adgenda behind his actions.

Aegwynn might still wish to push and prod at the man to discover the truth, but the old woman was used to being the most powerful mortal in Azeroth, and that came with a certain level of confidence and wisdom that would permit her actions. Jaina however, was more pragmatic.

There was little need right now to investigate the man directly, and so they would just offer what hospitality was required for their forces, and send them on their way swiftly.

Aegwynn stood at the window, watching the port as the army disembarked and move through the town, seeking refreshment and good food before they had to subside on rations and long marches down to Silithus. "If this man is truly the student of Gul'dan, then the world is in danger so long as he lives," the old Magna stated, glancing back at Jaina.

"We cannot kill a man for crimes we only speculate upon," Jaina replied. In her heart, she wondered if they alone would even be capable of killing Banu, as his power seemed extremely great, on top of the arcane variant that he possessed.

"He freely admitted to crimes against his birth-world," Aegwynn countered, narrowing her eyes, "Do not tell me that your infaturation with his ally is blinding to you the greater needs of our planet?"

Jaina spluttered, "I am not infatuated with Draco. He simple challenges me mentally, and is an intriguing individual…"

"That's always how it starts…" Aegwynn retorted, before turning back to the window. "Housing such a large company will be difficult for them. How do we indend for them to spent a night or two here?"

"They will be making camps outside the city, on the beach and the edge of the marshes." Jaina replied casually, "I doubt that they'll want to wait long before setting out."

"Yes," Aegwynn agreed, "Banu seems driven to get this matter finished as quickly as possible."

"Or else he has personal business in Silithus that he wishes to investigate…" Jaina speculated.

"The Twilight Hammer used to be a clan allied strongly with Gul'dan's…" the Magna informed her, "perhaps he is hoping to find some demonic secrets among their writings and spellcasters…"

"Doubtful…" Jaina said, "It seems more personal than that. Also the Twilight Cult ceased the practice of demon worship fairly quickly after their separation from the old Horde… they have other masters now."

"The Old Gods," Aegwynn surmised.

Jaina grimaced. She only knew a fraction of what the older woman understood about the strange and mysterious creatures that used to sow chaos and madness across the surface of their world. If even part of those tales were correct, then it was more than worth the effort to ally with someone like Banu to eliminate them. "Do you recall anything important related to the Old Gods and the lands of Silithus?" she asked, and Aegwynn grimaced.

"Unfortunately, I do…" she affirmed, "one of them sleeps there, locked away by ancient magic that exsisted long before I was born."

"It has to be the goal of the Twilight Hammer then, to awaken this Old God and use him against us all." Jaina surmised.

"Indeed," Aegwynn agreed.

"Then it would be better to ally with the possible enemy we are aware of, over allowing an unknown but certain enemy even a moment to plot against us," Jaina pressed, forcing the Magna to submit to her view.

"I suppose that that would be…" Aegwynn started to relent, but abruptly turned toward the window. Jaina sensed it as well, as swelling of dark magic, albeit not the Fel.

"Void magic…" Aegwynn hissed, seeming to be disgusted by its presence.

"Could it be one of the Alliance adventurers?" Jaina asked, but she doubted her words even as she spoke them.

"Unlikely," Aegwynn replied, searching from the tower, squinting as Arcane magic amplified her vision, "It's far to condensed. I would expect it to be multiple practitioners. And… there!" she said suddenly, pointing.

Jaina looked, and was horrified to see that the Magna was pointing directly at the square of her city where the approaching entourage of Alliance soldiers was traveling.

"An ambush? In my city?" she asked, her own anger growing. How dare anybeing even think that they could use her home as their battlefield.

"The Old Gods are the sworn enemies of the Legion…" Aegwynn said, guessing at the target.

"Banu…" Jane said, enveloping herself in Arcane magic and generating a portal down to the square. Hopefully she could reach it before the attack began.

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Nobu'tan was pleased that they were on solid ground once more, and utterly intrigued by the new land of Kalimdor around them. The magic here was different than the Eastern Kingdoms continent, older even.

Even this human city felt different from Stormwind or the harbor that they departed from in the Wetlands, and was brimming with magic that was new to Nobu'tan and clearly woven with great care and skill. He had underestimated the strength of the Sorceress, and he understrood that now.

As the precession of Alliance adventurers and soldier made their way through the city, people greeted them warmly. There were many offers of wares, food, and accomidation as they passed, but the plans that Varian had supplied them already had a location chosen for their army to encamp for a day or two as they recovered from the sea voyage. Then they would move on in great haste to the south, and the desert lands that resided there.

The road ahead opened up to a large square, where people bustled about in their day-to-day activities, and Nobu'tan was starting to feel a small measure of the peace that exsisted here, so isolated from the rest of the world.

But something was off, and he could sense it. Macnair and Yaxley at his side, as well as the other potential recruits behind them all stopped, sensing the foreign magic as it built in power.

"Banu!" a voice shouted, and from a sudden burst of the Arcane, Proudmoore appeared, dashing toward them.

Nobu'tan almost thoguth she was angry at him, but the look on her face was that of earnest fear, "Look out!" she continued, and the warlock registered the warning just as a flare of familiar dark magic erupted around the edges of the square.

He had sensed this kind of power before, on the coasts of Britain as he, alongside mages and the Guardian of Avalon fought against the denezines of the deep, and Morgan Le Fey. Cultists appeared from the shadows, harboring the dark magic of their vile masters as they attacked the company of Alliance.

But even as he turned to aid his friends and current allies, Nobu'tan spotted a blur of motion out of the corner of his eye. A green shape rushed him with daggers drawn, and bowled him over as he attempted to raise his hands and fire off a signle spell.

The orc, clearly female, straddled him as he hit the ground, pinning his arms with her knees as the daggers crossed threateningly over his throat.

Looking up, Nobu'tan widened his eyes as he recognized the grizzled face of one of his old tutors. The assassin of the Shadow Council, and Gul'dan's favored thrall: Garona Halforcen.

How she had survived the wars with the Alliance, Nobu'tan did not know, or why she had fallen in with the Twilight Hammer, but there were more pressing concerns on Nobu'tan's mind as she hovered over him, her poisoned daggers glinting in the sunlight.