Many thanks my wonderful people for reading and reviewing these last two weeks. RL has been most miserable, between season allergies, changing from AC to heating the house (aka dust and more allergies) and getting AC unit replaced and all ducts cleaned, (aka MORE dust and EVEN MORE allergies) I feel that I've just not been as productive as normal. And what with holidays looming on the horizon, I'm sure to have even more interruptions, and that just drags me down a bit more. Every ping and a kind word here and there, regardless of the chapter, makes it feel that much better however, and urges me back to working on things more efficiently, to make up for the last of time, and functionality, that I currently have. Please enjoy the next chapter! ~F
Chapter 142
Dragon and the Demon
Narcissa was starting to get used to having frequent visitors drop by her and Lucius' home. But the two most recent were by far the strangest yet.
Garona Halforcen, apparently an old friend and mentor of Lord Nobu'tan, and her son Med'an, stood rather uncomfortably in the sitting room while Narcissa rested her feet in her chair. They were waiting for Lucius to return from meeting with those predetermined to watch the sewer tunnels out of Stormwind, in order to facilitate the pair traveling to Blackrock Mountain. Aurora was utterly fascinated by the young man, and toddled over to him, staring up with wide, grey eyes.
"Up!" she demanded of the late teen, raising her arms and puffing out her cheeks in the adorable way she tried to look stern. Narcissa knew that it was a tendency that would have to be curbed soon, but she found it too adorable to ruin by scolding her daughter at this time.
"She's not going to let up until she has her way," she advised the young man, and despite the cold, indifferent stare from the half orc assassin, her son knelt and lifted the toddler into his arms. At first, Med'an looked awkward and unsure of himself, but once Aurora was settled, she reached up and started to play with his face, shifting the light green skin around and studying the effect.
"Wh…why is she staring?" Med'an asked, unsure what to do with the small human in his arms. It was endearing to Narcissa, and she had to suppress a small laugh of her own, even as her daughter giggled as she explored the new and unusual to her.
But before she could respond, and explain her child's attraction to those who were magically gifted, Aurora held up her hands, conjuring sparkling lights at her fingertips to show off what she could do.
The young part-orc's glistening blue eyes widened as he realized the implication. Even Garona stilled as she watched the display of light. "What wonderful magic…" Med'an said, relaxing as he reached out his free hand to touch the shimmering light. A whispered incantation later, and he effectively transferred a few of the lights to his own hand, fascinated by the form and build of the lights, and smiling widely.
"Aurora is very sensitive to those who are highly magical," Narcissa explained, glancing more at the nervous mother than at the preoccupied son, "It's why we are very careful about who visits or what kinds of magic are around her while she is so young. Even Lord Nobu'tan refuses to visit while she is awake."
The half orc seemed to ponder that, and her agitation settled a little, but it was clear that she wanted to be leaving Stormwind soon, definitely before someone came by to visit Narcissa or Lucius.
Luckily, Lucius returned quickly, which seemed to greatly relieve the assassin. He paused in the doorway for a moment, just looking over the scene of Aurora dominating the attention of their younger guest, while the mothers looked on, Narcissa in amusement and Garona in bewilderment, at the young girl's antics.
She was leading Med'an around the room, showing him all her favorite toys and tricks, babbling in a mixture of common and baby language, which while being completely incomprehensible, was still enough when mixed with her pointing and body language to give an idea of a long winded explanation of everything in her domain.
"Everything is ready," Lucius said after allowing his daughter to continue her show for a few more moments. "Once you're ready to leave, we will make for the Slaughtered Lamb and its entrance to the sewer network."
"Good, we'll go immediately," Garona said, a smattering of warmth returning to her posture, "Med'an, it's time to say goodbye to your new friend…"
Narcissa swooped in to help the young man to freedom, as Aurora was desperate for any manner of playmate. Narcissa truly wished that there were other children in Stormwind that she could meet, but of the people that lived in the city proper, very few had children, and of those that did, fewer still were the kind that Narcissa wanted to associate with that closely.
Nobles in Stormwind came in few types. Those that wanted to suck up to anyone more influential than they, those that felt they were able to buy whatever they wanted, and finally those that were solely focused on their duty, and had little to no social life of their own. Narcissa felt it was quite ironic, that she was now distancing herself from the very types of people that she and Lucius had danced amid back on their own world, but the idea of a fresh start here on Azeroth had sunk deeply into her soul, as well as many of the other Pureblood families.
Lucius gestured toward the front door, and ushered Med'an and Garona out of their home. The young man gave a cheerful wave goodbye before exiting, and Narcissa smiled as her daughter went to the window to watch her new friend leave, waving the whole time until he was out of sight.
That left Narcissa with the rambunctious toddler, who was keen on filling her in on every detail that she had gone over with Med'an, and the Lady of house Malfoy could only smile and laugh at how determined and organized her daughter was at such a tender age.
"All right little one, a few more minutes, then it is bed time," she said, allowing herself to be led to the various sections of the room, even as Aurora chattered on about her evening, as though it was unseen by anyone else in the room.
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Lucius was pleased with the progress that he had made with the warlock coven of Stormwind. It had taken a great deal of effort, showing them the achievements of the Black Harvest, as well as several of the magical leaps forward that they had discovered, but they were now, on the whole, willing to work with the Dark Horde, at least indirectly. The shudder of power from the Dark Portal's opening, as well as more recently up north had been sufficient to finally convince the coven that they could use outside connections.
So now, as a test, Lucius was going to help Garona Halforcen and her son slip out of Stormwind, but because of certain pressures that had arisen recently, they would have to skip the entire overland journey east and north.
Passing through the tavern on top of the coven's sanctum, Lucius quickly glanced over the patrons. Mostly the usuals, who knew better than to watch too closely or ask questions, but there were one or two SI:7 Agents poorly concealed in the corner of the room. Shaw did not trust warlocks, nor Lucius and his family, and he always put the most junior members of his agents on task to watch them.
So far, it had not been a problem, and Lucius had easily been able to keep concealed anything of importance. But him with two total strangers, their faces hidden, entering the warlock sanctum would undoubtedly attract attention enough for more agents, veterans, to come and investigate.
They would have to be quick; if Stormwind Intelligence discovered that members of the Dark Horde had traveled through their city, aside from those who actually lived here, then it would become open season for Shaw to persecute all of those who came from old Terra. That meant that the very real entrance to the sewers was out of the question, and a magical means of departing the city would be required.
"Zardeth, we are ready, and SI:7 is watching…" Lucius said quickly, addressing the leader of the warlock coven in Stormwind as the three of them entered the cellar sanctum, "the sooner we get this complete, the better."
"The ritual to open the portal is ready, but I admit we are nervous. You describe it being a very easy thing to do, but somehow I cannot comprehend the level of power you in the Dark Horde have at your disposal." The man said, exasperated.
"When you finally come around to visiting Blackrock yourself, you'll understand," Lucius said dismissively, "but let's proceed."
"A portal?" the young man asked, looking around the room, "I thought we were leaving by the sewers."
"There has been a complication," Lucius said, "SI:7 has been closely watching me, and you both will have been noticed. You'll be caught in those tunnels at some point, if you try to exit that way."
"So you made alternative arrangements that will be more effective," Garona replied, all business and mild approval in her voice, "Let's hurry this along then."
They adjourned from the main area, where select warlocks from the Stormwind coven had assembled around a large ritual circle. Lucius could power the portal they needed himself, naturally, but it was a matter of principle that he wanted them to understand the mechanics of the nether portal themselves, and that they could create them on their own.
Lucius even understood why they couldn't achieve the same level of mastery over the greater Fel abilities like those that had learned the Fel from Nobu'tan back on the earth. The magical core of their people, what gave them their gifts from their low magic homeworld, swelled with unbridled power after spending any amount of time on Azeroth, and its rich magic environment.
Those who had been born and raised on Azeroth, without the genetic markers of the earth wizards, simply did not have the added magic afforded to them, and had to amass more power outside of themselves.
Nevertheless, sharing the magic that they used so readily, even if it was significantly harder for these warlocks to achieve it, was the best method to gain their trust. It would take seven, six of the Stormwind warlocks, and Lucius himself to gently guide them and correct for any mistakes in their ritual, but otherwise the power was to come from the others.
"Let us begin," Lucius announced, feeling the magic of the ritual already settling over him. The others assembled, in opposing triangles around him as the center figure. The five humans and one gnome quickly took their places.
Lucius had spent a great deal of time getting to know those that would be part of this ritual. It was necessary for him to recognize and guide their magic with little effort. Of the six, Lucius was certain that at least four, including Zardeth himself, would soon be ready to join the Black Harvest.
The final, the woman Ursula Deline, and the gnome Spackle Thornberry, were less than interested in anything more than keeping their powers secret from those who knew them, while helping others who wished to ascend farther than they. Admirable, but lacking in vision for the needs Lucius had in mind.
Zardeth was first to start the ritual, funneling magic upward over the drawn runic array, while his right and left hands, Gakin and Demisette, joined in soon after, forming the primary triangle of power.
The other three, including another warlock named Sandahl, formed the subservient triangle, which would work to harmonize the power of the other three individuals. The mass of shadow magic swelled with the combined magic of all six, slowly forming the same wall of inky blackness that Nobu'tan alone could conjure in seconds.
"Good, now the clawed-shadows…" Lucius instructed, gently grabbing hold of the mass of magic with his own, stabilizing the edges where these new practitioners of the technique were not completely thorough in their spell craft.
Each of the six started the next phase of the ritual, conjuring one shadowed claw each, and sent them to seize the edges of the inky mass Lucius was keeping in check.
"And draw it back, nice and slow," Lucius said calmly, trying to not disturb their focus. But that effort was wasted when a loud thump sounded from above. It was a signal from the bartender, indicating that outsiders had entered the Slaughtered Lamb. Likely it was SI:7 already following Lucius and his mysterious guests.
"Perhaps not so slow now…" he said, forcing a half smile across his face. The others responded, drawing the portal wide, and a dimly lit view of the Burning Steppes came into focus.
"Go, now," Lucius said to Garona and her son, "before you're discovered."
The assassin obeyed, dragging her son by the arm as she dashed through the portal. It held, just long enough for them both to pass through, before Lucius terminated the magic himself, allowing it to collapse as though failing at the last moment.
"That was… far more difficult that I even had supposed," Zardeth said, breathing heavily from the exertion of Fel magic through his body.
"Yes… it appears so," the SI:7 senior agent said, even as he and his partner entered the chamber, the two green conscripts in tow, "And I'm sure his Majesty would love to hear all about it."
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Lor'themar was confused by the presence of the blue dragon in the Sunwell plateau itself, but he had little time to ponder the mystery, between dodging the slamming tail and taking shots at the armored hide with his bow.
The creature had effectively separated all the forces arrayed against him, being surrounded by them yet totally in control of the confrontation.
And yet, there was something that the Regent Lord of Quel'Thalas couldn't shake about what he was seeing. As much as he found it difficult to believe, the dragon seemed to be fighting his own movements, as though an outside force guided the way the massive lizard's body jerked and twisted, but every so often there was a tiny miscalculation: a misstep in the placement of feet, a small hesitation before swinging the tail, an extra moment before breathing pure magic to let his opponent slip away with minimal injuries.
The dragon was not acting on its own volition. Lor'themar was certain of this. While he had not been kept apprised of what had been transpiring on Quel'Danas since the Blood Elves retook Eversong and the Ghostlands, he had occasionally made note that there were odd activities going on, occasional sightings of two strange individuals among the ruins.
Could it be that this blue dragon, in a disguised form, was one of those that had been here so long, and the arrival of the Legion with Kael had disrupted some secret errand the dragon was on?
Whirling away from another raking claw, Lor'themar found himself side-by-side with Matthias Shaw, leader of SI:7. "I trust you've sensed something off about our adversary," the human said, confirming what suspicions that the Elf had had.
"We need to find a way to free him from whatever possesses his mind and body." Lor'themar suggested.
"I'd love to hear some sort of plan to that effect, aside from just killing the beast…" Shaw retorted, "We can't keep this up for long."
Lor'them looked around swiftly. With the sheer amount of raw magic that the dragon was throwing off of itself as it fought the three strike teams, there had to be some reaction from the area around Apex Point, where they stood overlooking the Parhelion Plaza of the Sunwel Plateau.
This was once a focus point for the magic of the Sunwell, and where King Anastarian had channeled its power to incinerate hordes of Arthas' minions, before the Death Knight broke their lines and killed the last King of Silvermoon.
There had to be a remnant of that sensitivity to magic. And, yes, Lor'themar found a pocket of magical power, thrumming in tune with the dragon's aura. On one hand, if they didn't act fast, the dragon would connect with that power and erupt in destructive magic. But at the same time, if they took control, they could manipulate the arcane of the dragon and turn it against him, somehow tap into what was controlling the creature and see to freeing it.
A fully adult Blue Dragon would be a very useful ally against the Legion. "Magisters, tap into the power of the Sunwell, turn the arcane against this beast," Lor'themar declared, and Shaw mirrored the command for the Stormwind Mages.
The Blood Elves, so accustomed to the former pathways of magic that the Sunwell once carved in this place, took to the task in a heartbeat. The next blast of arcane-infused breath veered away from its intended course, siphoned away and funneled into the old ley-pathways that the Sunwell use to fill.
The arcane power was quickly spun around and thrown back at the dragon, formed now as a spiraling orb. The spell rocketed back into the dragon's hide, knocking scales free and making the beast roar in shock and surprise.
"I will purge you!" the dragon bellowed, his strained voice almost, to the heightened hearing of the Elves, sounded like two voices at once.
What was more, the spell ricocheted off the dragon's hide, and as the former Farstrider watched with his remaining eye, the spell shifted as it crashed to the ground, changing into a spiraling portal. There was no visual destination, but the nexus of power led straight back to the dragon.
"We need a force inside that portal," he said on the next pass that brought him close to Shaw, "Whatever is inside is the cause of the dragon being out of control."
"This had better not be a ploy, Elf," the man said angrily, already sporting more than a few injuries of his own.
Lor'themar did not feed the anger in the human, but rather whistled a sharp order to his Farstriders. They remembered the battle-language developed for fighting the Amani under canopy, and reacted swiftly, tearing off fighting the dragon in droves and leaping into the portal, followed by Magisters. Lor'themar was the next to follow, rolling out of the way of the slamming tail and into the rift moments before it shut.
What he found in the realm beyond was, unusual, to say the least, but he quickly found a target for their aggression. A single half-elf fought savagely with a Dreadlord, the demon towering over the small mortal body, which clearly was some manner of avatar for the Blue Dragon's mind.
The half elf was losing, the demon chuckling as he tormented the internal image with shadow magic, "There will be no reprieve. My work here is nearly finished," the Nathrezim said snidely, as though the small force of elves were nothing to even deter his inevitable victory.
"For Quel'thalas!" Lor'themar shouted, notching an arrow. Spells and projectiles flew freely, and the Dreadlord was forced to shield himself with a wing, even as the dragon's projection continued to strike with a staff.
"Aaahhh! Help me, before I lose my mind!" the dragon's representation shouted, "We must expel him from my mind, and defeat him in the real world!"
"Piteous mortals," the Dreadlord shouted, trying to override the dragon's words, "I will watch you all bleed!"
A torrent of shadowy bats flew from the demon in all directions, and only quick action by the magisters blocked most of their forces from being slashed bloodily by the razor sharp attack.
"Begone!" the demon roared, ejecting the Elves from the mind of the Dragon. They were literally thrown across the stones of the Apex, even as the portal into the mind shimmered and started to fade.
"Keep that gateway open!" Lor'themar yelled, and nearby Stormwind Mages instantly started channeling arcane magic into the portal, feeding it to keep it open and useful to them.
"There's a Dreadlord trying to control the Dragon's mind," the Regent lord informed the head of SI:7, and Shaw nodded.
"Alright, we need to drag the demon out of there, and kill him here on this slab of stone." He said, already guessing exactly what had to be done.
"Yes, defeating him there would be sufficient to expel him to the waking world." Lor'themar added, even as the Alliance force started heading for the portal themselves. The Shattered Sun Offensive had taking control of engaging the Dragon in the physical world, keeping it well out of the way of attack either other force, and for that Lor'themar was grateful.
"Alliance forward!" Shaw yelled, just before leading his people into the portal, and vanished from sight.
"Keep that portal open!" Lor'themar ordered a pair of magisters, focusing once more on the blue dragon. Weakening the physical body would also hinder the connection that the Dreadlord had over the dragon, even if it was closer to actually killing the Dragon. They had to take the chance, unfortunately.
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Nobu'tan had to admit, the Fel Elves impressed him. Their innate mastery over abilities that had taken even Nobu'tan years to perfect was not something that could be ignored. Adding to that the clear desperation that they were hiding behind their superior attitude and haughty demeanors, Nobu'tan on his own would have no problem admitting them into the Dark Horde.
However, even as he watched the rogues and warlocks of the Fel Elves massacre the horde of demons barring their way, he had a single point of worry on how to proceed fulfilling multiple contrasting promises he had made.
The Amani trolls. Their vendetta extended to all Elves that every lived, Night, High, Blood, or Fel. Their alliance in the Dark Horde was absolute, and Nobu'tan was aware that there had been a great deal of fracturing after the old Horde stopped burning Quel'thalas in order to turn west and assault Lordaeron during the end of the second war.
This would have to be handled carefully. The fact that the Fel Elves were outcasts from their people may be useful to convince the Trolls to at the least pass any hostile action against this sub group of Elves.
"You know that this will not end well," Blaise said at Nobu'tan's side, thinking much the same thing as he. "The Amani will demand blood for Zul'jin alone…"
"I know…" Nobu'tan replied, quiet enough so that only the assassin could hear, "but we must cross that bridge when it comes, and not a moment sooner."
Soon enough, the way was cleared, and the Fel Elves waited for the rest of the Dark Horde attack group to join them on the upper bridge that connected into the final, central structure of the plateau.
"The final barrier lies just ahead," Valdris said, gesturing behind him at the shimmering barrier over the archway into the building. "I feel I should also warn you, Kael'thas' final orders for us before he betrayed us."
That got Nobu'tan's attention. If it was something that barred their path, he wanted every scrap of knowledge he could get, even if he had to stroke the ego of these pompous Elves. They would be humbled in due time, and learn their place in the world, but he needed that information, "And?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.
"We were sent to Silvermoon to steal their captive Naaru, and bring it here to help power the Sunwell as it was corrupted…" the Elf said, a strange mix of pride and shame in his tone. Pride for how they had successfully executed their assignment, but shame at the content thereof.
"So the creature is in there as well," Nobu'tan said dismissively, "not a problem, we can free the Naaru and enlist its help to defeating the Legion."
"That would be unadvisable," Valdris countered, "The Light was siphoned out of that creature by the Blood Knights for a great deal of time, and now that it was exposed to the Fel and heavily used, there is nothing but shadow left there… It's gone completely mad."
"That… changes things…" Nobu'tan said, thinking it over. In the end, they had to take one obstacle at a time, and the gate was here in front of them, and the Naaru somewhere else, possible not even in the way.
"Archonisus," Teron said, reading the final script, "this barrier will be the strongest yet, and there will be no manner of brute force that can break it," the Death Knight informed him.
"Perhaps our new friends have some manner of password or other way to bypass the defenses altogether?" Nobu'tan speculated, but Valdris was already shaking his head, "We've lost all connection to the Arcane, which was the original magic the Sunwell produced. We are completely isolated from this place, and as locked out as the rest of you."
There was a genuine hint of sadness and pain there, but Nobu'tan filed away that information for another time, "However," Valdris continued, "We can assist in other means…"
Turning, the Elf pointed into the distance, where the Magister's Terrace was located. "We can funnel the magic elsewhere, lowering the gateway and siphoning the magic to another place, potentially for later use."
"A ritual then…" Nobu'tan speculated, already drawing the Elder Wand and tracing a series of runes. "What is the target for the siphon?"
"The telescope," Valdris confirmed, smiling to himself, "It's filled with arcane crystals, which had been previously drained of magic and used in place of simple glass. We can funnel the magic back into them from the barrier, and destabilize it enough to deactivate it for the time being."
Nobu'tan nodded, adding another layer of runes, to change the direction that magic would flow through them, and adding circles for multiple stabilizing agents. The Fel Elves couldn't interact directly with the Arcane anymore, but Nobu'tan could.
"Stand in the ring of outer runes, and channel Fel magic into the air," Nobu'tan instructed, stepping into the center rune. "I will use the Fel to draw on the corrupted Arcane from the barrier and launch it out to the Terrance…" In a flash, a trio of eyes was sent with messages out to the Terrance, where other Dark Horde warlocks were already gathering, with instructions to await a surge of magic. "There will be others there to collect it and funnel the magic into your telescope."
"Then let us begin," Valdris requested, already beginning to open himself to ambient Fel magic in the air, preparing for Nobu'tan to use the Fel Elves as anchors to prevent himself from being thoroughly burned out with the magic that would soon be flowing through him from the gateway.
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Matthias Shaw had seen many strange things during his service of Stormwind, but this may have been among the frontrunners for the more bizarre. The sight of a half-elf locked in combat with a Dreadlord, with magic flying in all directions, was in part terrifying and inspiring.
"Attack!" Shaw ordered, and a barrage of projectiles, magic, and small throwing weapons pelted the Nathrezim in response.
"Haven't you heard? I always win!" the demon chortled, already torn between his battle with the half-elf, and now with the Alliance force.
The SI:7 Agents surrounded the half-elf, shielding him from the Dreadlord's next attack, and angering the demon greatly.
"You're misery will be a delight!" he snarled, leveling more shadow magic on those that had gotten in the way of him and his prey, but Matthias was not about to let this go on. Stormwind Mages were already channeling spells to eject the demon from this realm.
Shaw cursed, for once wishing that they had a warlock with them of the caliber of the Dark Horde's. They would have had the knowledge and power to banish this demon with great ease, but unfortunately Malfoy had been left behind, at Shaw's insistence.
Still, they had the power to achieve the same feat, albeit it took significantly more time, and taxed their priests in keeping their forces going while the Mages did their work.
With a roar of rage, a portal like that which they entered tore open behind the Dreadlord, and sucked the Nathrezim into it, ejecting it to the real world. The realm around them started to collapse as soon as the demon departed, and the half-elf, now free of the torment of the demon, turned to them, "Thank you mortals, this way, we must slay Sathrovarr before he can escape," he said, gesturing at the narrowing sides of the realm, and opening a portal for the Alliance force to escape through.
They filed out quickly, reappearing in the Sunwell compound, where the Dragon had become far more sedated. Now what occupied the focus of their conflict was the demon itself, now here in the real world, and laying into the frontline soldiers with claws and blood magic.
"I have toyed with you long enough!" the demon bellowed, slamming a hoof into the ground, trying to destabilize those nearest to it, but the enchanted stones failed to crack.
The dragon charged, nimbly darting through the forces of the Shattered Sun Offensive, and barreled into the Dreadlord, creating an opening for the combined forces to attack.
Shaw himself drew a small dwarven gunpowder weapon, a pistol, and fired. His projectile tore through the air, faster than the arrows of the elves, equaling the speed of magical attacks from the various mages, and blew a hole in the face of the Nathrezim. A horn was shattered, and Fel green blood erupted from the skull.
The demon staggered back, clutching the fatal wound, and snarling threats at them all. "I'm… never on… the losing… side…" he declared haggardly, body already fading into shadows and Fel embers.
"Mortals," the dragon said turning to look over the assembled forces, "I am forever in your debt. Once we have triumphed over Kil'jaeden, this entire world will be in your debt as well."
Shaw had many questions, but the Dragon offered not time for them to be asked, immediately spreading his wings and taking off, speeding over the roofs of the compound and out of sight.
"He seeks the embodiment of the Sunwell itself," Regent Lord Lor'themar explained, catching Shaw's questioning eye. "If she is recovered, Kil'jaeden's plot will be foiled."
"Then we have nothing else but to move forward then…" Shaw responded, slightly irritated at the loss of more direct information.
Rallying his force quickly, Shaw indicated the path ahead, and they moved out on point of the other two factions. Curiously, the next few small areas seemed to have recently been occupied, yet were conspicuously vacant of all beings, mortal or demon.
"It's as if they up and left in a great hurry," Shaw said, checking the still hot ash of a recently extinguished fire.
"I've learned it's best to not look too deeply into good fortune in these sorts of times." Lor'themar said, arriving with his Elves, "If we are to find whoever left these, then we will deal with them when the time is right."
Shaw nodded. There was nothing left to learn about from these remnants anyway. They pressed onward, passing through several damaged and crumbling buildings. Shaw had inspected some of these as they had approached by sea. The southernmost part of the isle had been completely devastated by the Scourge invasion so many years ago, and if not for the magic saturating the island it would have collapsed years ago.
But now, they reached an overlook, where a massive hole in the building opened up to the whole of the Dead Scar's end, inside the Sunwell Plateau. Apparently, the Legion had felt that such a gaping hole in their defenses was worth protected, as a Pit Lord was there, snarling and pacing as it guarded the shattered courtyard alone.
Instead of hands, the massive creature had blades mounted upon the stumps of its wrists, and rattled them in anger as it waited for anything to enter its temporary domain.
"Grraaarrr!" the demon bellowed, reacting to a flash of blue from above, "You think to make an icicle out of me? Come down, then I will add real fire to your life!"
Another dragon, slimmer and a deeper shade of blue than the first they encountered here, soared into view, breathing out a trail of frost in front of the Pit Lord, "I hear Pit Lords are born from maggots, Brutallus!" it taunted, staying well out of reach of the slashing blades.
"Stupid blue birdie!" Brutallus roared, swinging around to keep the dragon in view, "Let's see if you can pull this maggot from the dirt!"
"I prefer my meals a bit colder!" the dragon retorted, exhaling a burst of ice down upon the demon, encasing it partially in ice.
It didn't hold for long, as the demon melted through most of it as its internal Fel spark surged, allowing the brute strength to shatter the remnants in a flash. "Come down! I'll tear your wings from your shoulders and feed you to the dirt. Then YOU will be the maggot, dragon!"
Shaw felt that this would be an excellent distraction for them to slip past, but unfortunately, the sharp eyes of the Dragon must have spotted them creeping toward the edge of the overlook, as a burst of frost magic encased the hole in clear ice, allowing them to easily witness the exchange, but not interfere.
"Hold, friends! There is information to be had before this devil meets his fate!" the dragon said aloud, making their presence known. Shaw cursed under his breath. The opportunity to slip by had been denied to them.
"Where is Anveena, demon?" the dragon demanded, "What has become of Kalec?"
"Puny lizard! Death is the only answer you'll find here!" Brutallus replied snidely, the great maw of his mouth already foaming with anticipation of attacking the dragon, if he could reach it.
"You will tell me where they are!" the dragon demanded again, leveling a cone of frost directly into the demon's face. But the Pit Lord was ready for the attack, and expelled a gout of Felflame to counter it.
"Grah! Your magic is weak!" he taunted.
There was a surge of arcane magic, and the Pit Lord's massive bulk was forcefully lifted from the ground. "Speak." The dragon ordered, channel torrents of raw magic into its spell, "I grow weary of asking!"
The dragon flew closer, seemingly ready to latched onto the Fel hide of the demon and throw it to the ground, but the demon spontaneously broke free of the magic as soon as the dragon was in range.
Brutallus swung wildly, scoring several deep cuts on the dragon's tough scales, and sending both of them to the ground. The Dragon had the harder landing, one wing clearly fracturing from the angle it was bent, as soon as the massive creature struggled back to its feet.
"Malygos, my lord! I did my best!" the dragon screamed out, seeming to know it was about to die, even as the demon delivered a deathblow, cutting arteries in the massive neck and leaving the body to bleed out over the desecrated soil.
"That was fun," Brutallus said, turning to look at the patch of frozen ice that covered where the assembled forces of the Alliance, Shattered Sun, and Blood Elves waited, "but I still await a true challenge!"
The creature took a deep inhale of breath, and Shaw knew what he was about to do, "Get down!" he ordered, even as the beast roared. The piercing sound reverberated and rang in several pitches, until the ice covering their position shattered, sending sharp icicles in all directions. Thankfully none were seriously injured, thanks to the Spymaster's warning.
"Come, try your luck!" Brutallus taunted, waiting for any one of them to emerge from the protective space of the crumbling tower.
"We have little choice," Lor'themar said to Shaw, appearing at his side, with the leader of the Shattered Sun on the other, "He could come after us if we try to find an alternative route."
"It won't be an easy fight," Shaw replied, but knew that they would have no other option. The determined look in the Regent Lord's remaining eye was testament enough that he was not going to allow the foul presence darken this place longer than it had to.
"Our paladins will take the front," the warrior of Shattrath affirmed, "allowing both of your forces to catch the beast in a pincer. We can prevent him from finding any safe place to protect himself from attack."
"Being able to attack him isn't what I'm concerned about," Shaw said, signaling his Agents to prepare to move out, "It's making sure we have somewhere he can't attack us…"
Shaw quietly ordered those who attacked via spell or arrow to stay in the meager protection afforded by the ruined building, while he took their vanguard and climbed down to the ground of the Dead Scar. The Elves nimbly followed, as did the combined Draenei and Elven force of the Sahttered Sun Offensive.
"For Azeroth!" the Paladin leader shouted, as his armored warriors charged the demon.
"Ahh," Brutallus shouted gleefully, "More lambs to the slaughter!"