《Diplomacy 101: How my Yandere Wife (murders) solves all my Problems! (Warcraft/Skyrim Gamer/OTP SI)》
Chapter 1
Awakening to the smell of burnt smoke, and screams on the horizon, he snapped his eyes open in a panic.
Instincts screamed at him to jump out of bed, and do something, but a piercing headache sent him sprawling back into the sheets.
Memories of a second life flooded his mind. Of humans, orcs, and most importantly of his identity as one of the Highborn.
He was now Varrus Vandercross, a prodigal son of an important politician, and a blonde sexy elf male to boot. The explosion of knowledge straight to his brain had him seeing double, he almost missed the highlighted sentence hovering in the center of his vision.
[New Quest: Survive the Scourge Invasion of Silvermoon]
A familiar quest design similar to Skyrim''s UI flashed across his eyes before fading into the background.
Survive what, exactly? The Scourge invasion? You mean the event that slaughtered 90% of the High Elf population?!
In a panic, Varrus thought about opening a menu. And one identical to the Skyrim UI appeared in his mind.
Varrus immediately attempted to save, yet all his attempts were met with a beep signaling denial. The options to save, load, wait, and fast travel had been grayed out! Additionally, the sounds of screams drew ever nearer! Time did NOT stop while he was in the menu!
Controlling the urge to hyperventilate, he quickly flicked over to the spells to see what he was working with.
It wasn''t totally hopeless! He had access to every single spell, but the option to cast them were grayed out, as he didn''t meet the skill/mana requirement.
Furthermore, Varrus noticed spells from the Apocalypse - Magic of Skyrim mod were present!
The novice spells Unbound Fire, and Bone Spirit stood out to him as a life saving means to escape this catastrophe.
Unbound Fire was a Destruction spell in the form of a ball of fire about the size of an average volleyball, and had the chance to move to nearby enemies, or even attack the caster if he was close enough. It dealt 10 damage upon impact, and 25 as it spread.
Bone Spirit was a Restoration spell that launched a homing, exploding ghost of light that dealt 50 damage to the undead.
Varrus had no idea how damage would translate into this world. After all, according to his memories, this place was very real, and things like stats or levels didn''t exist. He would have to wait and see when that time came.
Regardless of how numbers would affect the world around him, Varrus'' attention was soon drawn to a small handful of new spells he had inherited from his new body.
The prodigal son, Varrus Vandercross knew a handful of quality of life spells such as Cleanse, Enchant Broom, Water Crops, and Create Mana Stone.
Out of all the spells, Create Mana Stone seemed the most promising, as there were variants from Novice all the way to Master. Labeled an Alteration spell, the Novice Mana Stone cost 9 Mana to create, and replenished 10. Varrus'' memories were telling him it was an important family heirloom spell, but he didn''t think much of it, and hurredly moved on to the next part of his UI menu.
Glancing at a few more spells that caught his eye, Varrus took a look at the perks to see if there were any other changes.
When the perks came up, Varrus nodded his head at the Ordinator perk list. Some options were slightly adjusted, such as the word ''daedra'' being replaced by ''demon,'' or ''magicka'' with ''mana,'' but otherwise most perks remained the same.
He didn''t know exactly what to specialize in at the moment, but Destruction, Restoration and Alteration were looking like his best bets for survival at the moment.
Deciding he didn''t have time to dwell upon this, he directed his attention at his current status, and saw five effects.
- Elf: -10%hp move 2.5x faster than a human, night vision, -95% fertility compared to a human.
- Sunwell: Unlimited vigor, 350% mana regeneration, near immortality.
- Magically Inclined: Learn magic skills 25% faster.
- Mana Sense: Track and feel the currents of mana around you.
- Vandercross Locket (locked): Ability: Family Authority: Unlock doors, and control turrets/golems on Vandercross property.
Taking all this into account, Varrus nodded his head, then began to think up a quick plan for survival.
In terms of plans for greatness, Varrus, like any good Skyrim player, was aware of the enchanting/alchemy infinite loop pipeline. However, his hopes would take a long time to come to fruition, as he came to a startling realization. All of the ingredients used in alchemy were another plane away, and he would have to painstakingly find substitutes by tasting every single plant across the planet. Likewise, acquiring grand soul gems would be much, much more difficult when he had to place his own neck on the line to seize them. Logistically, it was going to be a major pain in the ass to accomplish.
His plan for unlimited power canned for sometime down the line, Varrus was about to look into his menu further and see what kind of spell or perk could help him given his current circumstances, when he was snapped out of it when the door to his room was slammed open.
Varrus flinched at the sound, then hurriedly raised his hand ready to throw an offensive spell, only to pull back at the last instant as he recognized the woman.
The petite, busty, raven haired lady was his mother-in-law Faedra. She moved with grace, and glided into the room. The haughty air about her, and the way she carried herself spoke of self confidence, and in Varrus'' mind, arrogance.
"Syra, lead your troops to guard the gate. I shall control the arcane tower. You shall buy time while I awaken the war golems." Faedra said in an imperious command that only the bitchiest, smuggest of women could utter.
Faedra was giving off strong Disney villain vibes, in fact given she was his mother-in-law, that somehow wasn''t all too surprising.
''Wait, what, mother-in-law?! Then that means-'' Varrus gasped aloud, then turned toward the other side of the room.
There, staring at him with an unblinking rabid intensity was Syra. His wife of all but one day. The buxom blonde bombshell ignored her mother''s words, and seemed to have eyes only for Varrus.
Varrus opened, and closed his mouth. The entire time he had been sitting here staring at his menu, this hot elf had been giving him her full attention?!
"Syra dearest would you truly let your pet die while you stood idly by?" Faedra directed scorn laced with the deepest ridicule, and a tinge of faked pity at her daughter.
Unbidden, a huge double handed claymore, big like Guts'' from Berserk, was easily raised in the blonde''s hands, and pointed at her mother''s chin.
Syra longingly looked Varrus in the eye, and didn''t even blink as she silently threatened her own mother''s life.
"Be a good girl now, I hope you remember your priorities." Faedra smiled sweetly, took a moment to glance disdainfully at Varrus, then twirled away.
Varrus caught sight of her shapely backside, and sighed in admiration.
A moment later, Varrus felt a weight upon his chest, and he was forced to roughly exhale.
Syra gripped his chin, and forced him to face her. She then lowered her head, and smashed her forehead against his.
A brief bubble of holy light covered her scalp, shielding her from any damage. Varrus unluckily felt a flash of pain, and saw stars for a moment.
She then roughly grabbed his long hair, and giggled as she played with it between her fingers. Syra then lightly flicked Varrus on the nose, and leaned down to kiss him.
Her breasts pressed against his chest, and her tongue explored his mouth.
All at once, Varrus felt himself begin to harden, and reached a hand out to grope a boob, but his wife formed a rope made of light magic, and bound it to the bedpost.
She smiled beautifully at him, then whispered in his ear.
"I will protect you, my love." Syra said as she pulled away toward the door.
The voice was soft, and sold her charm. He never would''ve imagined such an amazing girl would be into such rough foreplay.
"Of course, if you look at my mother like that again, I''ll have to dig out your eyeballs." Syra said in a matter of fact voice as her hair blanketed her eyes.
"Ah ha." Varrus drily laughed as his spit became lodged in his throat.
Syra merely stared at him.
"That is to say, I love only my wife." Varrus plastered on a large, fake smile.
[Speech +1]
Syra in response leaned down closer, and took a deep whiff of his hair.
"I love, love, love you too Varrus." Syra said in response, and squeezed him in a bone crushing hug.
Varrus'' eyes bulged as he felt his ribs begin to strain.
Good God, did he marry an amazon?!
"Lady Vandercross, we await your command!" An armored male elf saluted at the edge of the room.
Syra seemed to shiver like a cat content to stretch in the sun when the man addressed her as such.
Behind him, four more soldiers clashed their fists upon armored plate cuirasses. They then each drew swords shimmering blue with magical energy.
"I am yours Lord Vandercross, command me." Syra said huskily into his ear.
"You should go. We need-" Varrus halted as he saw Syra''s hair cover her eyes once more.
Feeling momentary dread, Varrus was quick to run his mouth, and spit out some more corny dialogue.
"Ahem, you should go so that you may return sooner. My heart cannot take a moment that we spend apart! Go, Lady Vandercross, claim glory for our House! Do it for us, and our loving future together!"
Syra shivered atop Varrus''s chest, then squeezed his face between her breasts.
"I shall endeavor to serve you for life my love, an eternity spent together is my dream. I shall do as my husband commands." She said, then plucked a lock of Varrus''s blonde hair, and wrapped it around her wrist in a makeshift bracelet.
Dismounting Varrus, and walking toward the door, Syra turned back to wink at Varrus, and flashed him another smile.
"For House Vandercross!" Syra proudly declared as she left.
"For House Vandercross!" The soldiers replied in earnest.
Varrus didn''t know if he should be frustrated that his hardon had nowhere to go, or relieved that his psycho wife had left the premises.
He didn''t have much time to think about his lack of snu snu, because without his wife distracting him, the sound of screams outside sounded louder and nearer. They were accompanied by the distinctive clang of metal on metal.
At the same time that Varrus noticed the noise of combat, a steady thumping sound reverberated every 5 seconds. The noise was accompanied by a bright blue flash spilling into his room through the windows. He could feel the building slightly shudder and shake everything the light passed by.
Varrus could only assume that was the arcane tower his mother-in-law was talking about.
Taking a deep breath, Varrus knew he had to start killing zombies if he wanted a better chance at survival. He eyed the magical construct tying himself to the bed, and gave it a firm tug.
Other than hurting his wrist, nothing happened.
Varrus considered blasting the spell apart, but considering it was attached to his arms he quickly reconsidered.
"No wait, I''m stupid." Varrus said aloud, and slapped his forehead.
Reaching his free hand out, Varrus pointed at the bedpost, and cast the spell Hailstone.
His hand gathered mystical energies, and blue icy particles began to coalesce around his finger tips.
After taking a moment to aim, Varrus released his magic. A moment later, and the bedpost splintered sending ice and wood everywhere.
Using his heightened senses, Varrus just barely dodge rolled to the side, evading a lethally sharp arms length shiv of wood.
Patting dust and debris off his crimson robes, Varrus noted the golden handcuff was noticeably still attached.
Eyebrow twitching, he decided to ignore it for now, and distract himself with other thoughts. Such as how his mana bar regenerated to full within a second of casting his spell. Keeping this in mind, it was time for him to really go all out, and level up.
Taking a deep breath, Varrus walked toward a balcony that was at the edge of his very expensive and large room.
The balcony was huge, and could easily accommodate 50+ people. Varrus had memories of people partying up here, and of his father giving speeches.
His house was practically a small palace, or mansion. At the top of which was a pulsing tower of arcane energy. In front of his house was a large courtyard in the shape of a square, and two ancillary buildings on the left and right. The 3 buildings formed a U shape, and openly faced the main road.
Most of the undead horde (numbering over one hundred thousand) kept moving deeper into the city, but dozens to hundreds of them turned off from their main objective in an attempt to storm the palace.
Countless zombies rushed toward the tight gap of the front door, but were repelled by the five house guard.
Varrus remembered these five were veterans of the Second War, men who had fought orcs twice their size, and came out alive. Their experience showed in both their tactics and equipment.
The veterans'' magic swords were like scythes during the harvest. They effortlessly and accurately aimed for limbs, joints, and exploited the vast openings presented by the mindless undead.
A group of ten zombies had swarmed one man, yet he moved like water. His precise steps had him minutely dodge each and every single swipe. While he dodged, he was not idle. His glowing sword flashed in an arc, and three heads were gone. The rest fell to his skill in short order. He wasn''t alone, similar feats of precision were mimicked by his fellow warriors.
Their agility, despite the fact that they wielded such large shields, and wore plate armor, was a testament to their skill and martial athleticism.
Each man could hold their own against 10 zombies at a time, but where they truly shined were team tactics. Often, one man would leave himself seemingly open, then dodge at the very last millisecond, only to have his ally kill from behind. Their unreal coordination must''ve taken years of practice. Every seeming opening was covered by another man, and turned into an advantage.
The mindless Scourge were no chance for an intelligent soldier decked out in enchanted equipment.
Combine this amalgamation of skill x experience, then add on the unlimited vigor granted by the Sunwell, and these already skilled warriors turned into absolute beasts.
Only¡Varrus frowned, where was his new wife?
His frown soon disappeared into an expression of shock.
There, within the center of the zombie horde, Syra was swiping her giant blade without a care in the world.
Her lightly armored anime-like appearance seemed to be doing something, because not only did she wield a buster sword like Guts, but she killed like Guts too!
Every time she would swing, a handful of zombies would be bisected. Countless rotten organs, and filthy blood splattered the ground rotten with black plague juices.
Additionally, a light aura surrounded her, burning any undead that managed to get close to her. Any black blood sizzled, and disappeared before it could touch her angelic form. Any body part would bounce away, or fly to the side, unable to impede her path.
And during it all, Syra was smiling, and wore a look of ecstasy on her face as she slaughtered her hapless opponents.
From Varrus'' perspective, the look she gave the enemy to crush wasn''t to far off from the manic intensity she showed him when she sat on his chest, and bumped his forehead.
At least she was on his side?
If he was playing a game, then he would definitely define Syra as a Hero unit. Perhaps this is what the adventurers/champions of WoW looked like to the average person who actually lived in this world.
Frankly, he felt like he was witnessing a miracle. It was the kind of awe you would feel when you saw your favorite player pop off. Every team in a videogame had one or two people who could do supreme dps, and Syra was such a person.
His wife single handedly carved down a hundred zombies over the course of two minutes, and cleared out half of the space around the estate.
Within all this chaos, the arcane tower was not remaining idle. It constantly fired into the undead crowd. Basketball sized, blue orbs of pure arcane energy thumped down one after another. Every shot was like an explosive artillery shell. Any undead caught within a 10ft radius had its limbs exploded, and those directly hit became unrecognizable meat paste.
Due to their show of force, and slight thinning of the horde, countless Highborn civilians fled toward the palace, and ran past the house guards.
Of the hundred or so who made refuge in his house, there was only one warrior, one priestess, two rangers, and about a dozen more who only knew the basic fireball/frostball spells. The Highborn population, despite their incredibly long lives were truly useless when it came to fighting. In Varrus'' impression, most mages chose to learn quality of life spells to show off between friends. For example, learning how to permanently levitate buildings, or conjure up the most amazing tasting food.
There was a reason why the Highborn had teamed up with the humans during the Troll Wars and the following conflicts. Because most Highborn were afraid of losing their long lives! They would much rather learn how to produce 50x more crops, weave stunning suits/dresses, craft beautiful homes, cook the most astounding meals, master every instrument or enchant weapons. Then they would trade these commodities to feed/arm the humans, and let them be the muscle, rather than get their manicured nails dirty.
It was no coincidence that the Highborn taught humanity magic, faith in the Light, or introduced currency.
Honestly, it wasn''t a bad idea, who would want to throw away such a long life? Most 1st world countries on Earth thrived so much due to backbreaking slave labor mining the components that made up smart phones. In essence, the Highborn weren''t much different in that regard.
However, for such a magically inclined people with a near infinite font of magic sitting in their backyard, and all the time in the world, everyone should at least know how to throw a fireball at minimum. If Varrus had it his way, group spells would become part of obligatory compulsory education for every young elf.
For such a population that was constantly high on their own smug, the Scourging of Silvermoon, would act as a rude awakening.
Regardless of their current usefulness, Varrus internally welcomed every survivor, because he knew that once rebranded as the Blood Elves, they would re-emerge into the world with a hatred boner, and stop being the useless cowards who hid in his cellar.
After all, there was nothing like having 90%+ of your population being wiped out to act as a wakeup call, and get your shit together.
In the past, 100 Highborn, and 100 human mages conjured up a fire death tornado that swallowed up a troll army numbering in the tens of thousands. What was stopping the Highborn from doing that again today? A lack of resolve, fear, and typical political maneuvering.
The Highborn had been so sure of their impenetrable citywide barrier, they never gathered to plan a defense. Everyone went about their lives like nothing could happen. Of course, they never thought a traitor, one of their strongest Archmages would betray them.
If he could survive the shock of losing the Sunwell, Varrus would be looking forward to the coming reform. Fortunately for him, what they faced was the dregs of the undead horde. The Vandercross estate was on the edge of the western half of Silvermoon, and far from the Scourge''s heavy hitters.
Arthas'' goal was the Sunwell, and to get to it, he would march straight down the middle of the city.
As far as Varrus was concerned, as soon as the font of unlimited mana became corrupted with death magic upon the resurrection of Kel''Thuzad, this curb stomping of undead would come to a swift end.
Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.
Knowing that his unlimited mana could be cut off at any moment, Varrus began spamming spells left and right.
Standing atop the balcony, fire rained down upon the zombies. Unbound Fire was shot out from both his left and right hand, and it quickly spread into the Scourge forces.
Varrus quickly discovered that one hit wasn''t strong enough to destroy one of the undead.
It was, however, enough to make it stagger, and crispify. Two-three shots however, seemed to be enough to stop a zombie for good.
After killing 10 zombies, Varrus earned a level up. With practiced ease, he opened his menu, and heard the familiar level up music. Ignoring the sound, he quickly added 10pts to mana, then slapped a perk point into the Ordinator perk, Destruction Mastery: ''Destruction spells cost 35% less mana, and Destruction spells are 0.25% more powerful per level of Destruction.''
It was a perk that could be upgraded twice, and one that would surely help once the Sunwell was finally corrupted.
Varrus gleefully resumed his level grind, frying the zombies when he saw a swarm of shadows on the horizon.
Hundreds, no thousands of bat-like creatures blotted out the sky. Gargoyles began swooping down all over Silvermoon picking up a victim, then watched as they fell screaming to the ground.
A pack of 8 gargoyles began flying toward his location.
Throwing several Unbound Fire spells at them, Varrus missed each time. Beginning to grow nervous, he remembered that the Bone Spirit spell had a homing feature!
Switching spells, Varrus began to spam Bone Spirits at the winged terrors.
A dozen light colored skeleton skulls flew out of Varrus''s hands at a sedate pace.
Varrus bit his lip. It would seem in exchange for being able to lock on to the enemy, this spell had sacrificed speed!
Several gargoyles ignored the light skulls, and flew directly at Varrus.
It was their mistake, as they were caught up in the spell, and screamed In fear as they exploded.
Varrus didn''t celebrate just yet, as the remaining 3 gargoyles maintained their distance, and began to cast sickly green scythe of wind magic at him.
They had to remain still as they cast their magic, leaving themselves wide open for Varrus to throw a few homing skulls at them.
However, they didn''t seem to care about their own well being, and were willing to sacrifice themselves if it meant taking Varrus out.
Over a dozen wind scythes barreled toward him at the same time that the enemy gargoyles came into contact with, and were exploded by the golden skulls.
Dancing like a monkey, he successfully dodged 7 of them, then he threw up a Lesser Ward, barely catching 4 more.
However, when the final scythe descended, it pushed into the ward, and he felt like it had exhausted its energy when all of the sudden, Varrus heard that all to familiar *pop* of a broken ward.
He didn''t have time to react as he saw that sickly green scythe rip and tear into him.
Varrus could feel a long bloody line across his chest.
Vision going dark, he weakly held his hand up, and started casting Healing. He watched in wonder as the blood on his chest began to dry up, and scab over.
In just a minute, the wound was completely healed. The only indication he had been wounded at all was a small silver scar.
Evidently he didn''t have a special gamer body that took damage such as (-44) (-12), etc. No, what damage he took was real. He was curious what effect health would have on his body, but he didn''t have time to theorize, he had levels to grind!
Stepping out in his ruined robes onto the balcony once more, Varrus grimly took on a worrying site.
A wave of hundreds of Highborn had mobbed their way toward the Vandercross estate. A handful of rangers, wizards and priests carved a path forward, but the overwhelming majority were citizens who didn''t possess a lick of combat potential.
Most concernedly, behind them was a grotesque array of necromancers, abominations, nerubians, ghouls, and meat wagon catapults. To top things off, leading this effort was a Death Knight.
Dozens of Highborn in the back of the mob were ran up on by ghouls. The savage monsters were a grotesque transformation of the normal zombie, and moved fast like a jaguar. Their mindless frenzy and thirst for flesh saw them tear the Highborn limb from bloody limb.
The ghouls razor sharp hand-claws tore into the soft tissue like a pencil punching through paper.
In a sick sense, the only reason why the mob of recklessly charging Highborn could make it to this point was due to the ghouls stopping to feast.
Their cries of terror were drowned out by the hungry growls of the ghouls.
Varrus felt sick in the stomach witnessing such a morbid scene. He burned the image into his mind, reminding himself that if he didn''t put his all into surviving the day, that would be him.
As the refugees eventually made it to relative safety, they surged past Syra, and crammed into the Vandercross estate.
Among the civilian population, a few dozen rangers, another group of 40 fireball/frostball casters, and a pair of genuine mages made their way up to the balcony. They spared no mind to Varrus'' tattered appearance, and began to unleash hell down unto the undead horde.
Some of the rangers would concentrate for a moment, then imbue their arrow with magical energy for an arcane shot. A few of them were even able to imbue their arrows with holy energy.
As for the mages, Varrus described them as ''genuine'' because they knew more than one offensive spell.
One of them looked nearly identical to the sorceress from Warcraft 3. She would routinely cast slow on the ghoul''s, reducing their movement speed by half, making them easy targets for both the ranged units atop the balcony, and the melee down below.
Varrus also saw her polymorph one or two undead just as they were about to gnaw on an elf. Truly, support magic could not be understated in a massive brawl such as this.
The other mage was a male, blonde like most others, and he released a near endless torrent of arcane missiles. Each spiraling beam pierced into three to four undead in a row, then exploded. His efforts alone were worth more than 15 of the basic fireballs cast by the civilians.
Meanwhile, about 100 warriors, paladins and priests formed a tight turtle like line of defense to meet the oncoming Scourge army.
Varrus hadn''t remained idle taking in the scenery, and had been mindlessly firing into the crowd.
Every second, Varrus was tossing one fireball after another. And due to Unbound Fire''s effect, two other undead within close proximity of the slain foe would catch fire for every one he slew.
Before long, the blue experience bar familiar to all Skyrim players filled up, his Destruction skill rose to 14.
Unable to use any new spells until he hit apprentice at skill level 25, or impart any meaningful perk point beyond a 50% cost reduction in Destruction, Varrus held off on leveling for the moment.
Until he reached that threshold, he would reserve the level up for a life saving, full heal moment.
As the first wave of zombies and ghouls were eviscerated by the elven force, the second wave made itself known.
Seven abominations, pale and the size of an elephant waddled toward the front. Each step of the corpulent, four armed monstrosities left a small indent in the ground.
Magic and arrows peppered them, but hardly seemed to do any damage. Enraged, the abominations began to charge the elven line.
"Fireballs, focus the one in the center, frostbolts the periphery! You there, slow them down! And you, direct your magic missiles at their legs!" Varrus shouted In command.
If they couldn''t break up the abominations formation, it would not bode well for the defenders.
Heading Varrus'' order, the civilians threw out tennis ball sized fireball and frostbolts at the central abomination. Varrus joined them, and the combined onslaught of about 30+ attacks every 2.5 seconds saw the abomination become a blackened slag of flesh.
After the second volley, the monster collapsed to the ground, and exploded. Gaseous green energies, and flesh spread everywhere. The shockwave momentarily rocked Varrus, but fortunately no one was hurt in the blast.
Meanwhile, two other abominations had been slowed so much that their legs became easy targets for the arcane wizard. Their massive bodies collapsed with the loss of their limbs, limiting their crawling speed to that of an old man''s walking pace.
Another abomination was being pummeled into the ground by the turret atop the arcane tower, so Varrus didn''t worry about that. However, the frost mages weren''t doing enough damage.
The frostbolts hadn''t done much, unfortunately, the civilians casting frost magic didn''t know any spells that pierced, or froze solid. As a result, the three abominations'' collision with the line seemed inevitable.
Varrus held his breath, there wouldn''t be much room for maneuvering with these three juggernauts charging their line! Additionally, a fresh wave of ghouls was approaching from the flanks. If there were any gaps in their line, the ghouls would be able to ascend the tower, and wholesale slaughter the civilians!
''And once they are done, they''ll come for me.'' Varrus grimly thought.
A bright flash of light scorched his eyes, and he saw his wife''s buster sword effortlessly cleave the massive mounds of flesh into pieces. The way her weapon glided through that pale white skin seemed as easy as him spreading butter across a slice of bread.
After which, she supported the flanks. The undead began to pull back, and started to form more orderly ranks.
At the sight of this temporary reprieve, the warriors below cheered, and slammed their swords onto their shields, the veterans of the house guard began to chant a name, and the others began to join in.
"Vandercross!"
"Vandercross!"
"Vandercross!"
Syra seemed to ignore the adulation, and directed a fierce look at him that seemed to say ''why aren''t you inside?! Wanna die?!'' It almost looked like she was about to come up here and force him inside!
Varrus felt his hackles rise, that was crazy, she was needed on the battlefield!
Opening his mouth to shout over the battlefield, Varrus could only spout more cheesy lines.
"People of Silvermoon! Our Hero, Lady Syra Vandercross, my one and only loving wife shall protect us! So long as I stand safely upon this balcony, I pledge to you our House''s protection!" Varrus raised his voice, and stared his wife in the eye.
Syra paused in her step, and his impromptu speech seemed to have worked.
[Speech +1]
After a level up in speech, Varrus''s tight grip upon the balcony''s railing loosened, and he sighed in relief.
Slow clapping accompanied by mocking laughter sounded down below.
Emerging from the undead line was an abnormally pale elf.
All manner of cheer died upon his arrival, and Varrus heard several nearby Highborn suck in their breaths.
"Adonis." Someone muttered. Respect, pity, and fear were laced in their voice.
Varrus frowned as memories surged forth.
Adonis was regarded as one of the top three duelists in all of Quel''Thalas. To put things into Earth perspective, he was Mike Tyson famous. His very name was associated with elven might and superiority. To see him down so low, that even the strongest amongst the Highborn could join the ranks of undead¡it was a sobering event in the hearts of those present.
"Oh do go on, I haven''t heard such a droll performance since the humans begged for our aid." Adonis flashed a smug grin, and rested his hand on the pommel of his sheathed sword.
The pin drop silence followed by the growing intensity of Light energies swirling about Syra swiftly disappeared as she turned into a golden blur as she threw herself at the professional duelist.
"Ah, if it isn''t the young pup, Syra Greathollow! Your actions during the Second War were legendary. How I relish this opportunity!" Adonis cheerfully drew his enchanted blade, and parried Syra''s buster sword to the side.
A large patch of cracks formed on the marble floor where her sword struck, and a cloud of debris spread from the impact.
"Sloppy, sloppy. That anger of yours will get you killed!" Adonis playfully reversed the grip on his sword, and shoved the hilt forcefully into Syra''s chin.
The buxom blonde grinned as fresh blood dribbled down her mouth. Her eyes flashed golden yellow, and she raised her giant sword inhumane fast to block Adonis'' follow up swipe.
"It''s Vandercross." Syra whispered so quietly, Varrus only heard due to his elven ears.
"Ahh, so that whore Faedra finally married into nobility even if it was at the cost of her bastard! To think such an outstanding girl became the pawn of such a slut. Tsk, tsk, tsk!" Adonis grinned as he clicked his tongue.
Sparks flew into the air as holy light and necrotic green energies pushed one another for dominance as their weapons met again and again in a flurry of motion. Their movements were fast like a cheetah, their swipes powerful like an industrial forge. The air shuddered with each collision of their weapons, and Varrus could feel the magical aura radiating off of them from the balcony.
Syra''s momentum began to slowly ramp up. Her strikes became faster and more brutal. The massive metal beat stick in her hands was glowing white hot, and began to sizzle Adonis just from being in close proximity to the blade.
Syra seemed to gain the upperhand, and was gradually pushing Adonis back.
The constantly smug, and cheerful persona had completely fled from his face. All quips, and insults had ceased as the formerly cocky duelist started to crease his brow.
Varrus raised his hands in preparation to cast a spell in case of an opening, but there wasn''t a clear shot.
At that very moment, when hope of slaying this Death Knight seemed to be in Syra''s grasp, a great explosion of green light formed on the horizon.
Varrus'' heart felt like it exploded, and he fell to his knees to vomit.
Most other Highborn had a similar reaction, they then all took upon a sickly, deathly pale aura.
Closing his eyes, Varrus checked his interface. The Sunwell buff was gone, and in its place was a serious debuff.
[Mana Addiction (Severe): -80% mana regeneration.]
Syra''s momentum vanished like the light of the Sunwell, and she was forcefully pushed back. It was a miracle she kept fighting at all, but Varrus didn''t have very high hopes.
It was during this time when they had interlocked blades that a necromancer in the back of the undead line ordered the Scourge forces to attack.
Unable to pay attention to the duel any further, Varrus was forced to slam a Lesser Ward in front of his face, and block a gargoyle''s Wind Scythe.
Returning fire, Varrus blasted the gargoyle to pieces, but two more took its place.
That combo alone drained all his mana. Its recharge was slow, and sluggish. Likewise, having mana so low made him feel tired, like he had just gotten home after working the night shift.
Things were not looking good on the war front.
The civilian mages began to take casualties, and half of the elves on the rooftop lost their lives to the sudden gargoyle attack.
More than a thousand zombies along with hundreds of ghouls assaulted their position. Their hunger proved immense, and warriors began to fall. Each death shrank the line more and more.
The arcane tower had gone silent, the archers shot regular arrows, the warriors lost their unlimited vigor, and the priests could no longer heal. In short, they were fucked.
The battle had resumed, but this time, their Hero unit was in a precarious situation. If they didn''t do something to change the tide of the battle, they would be lost.
Varrus was busy scanning his list of novice spells for possibly the last time, in search of a miracle. He saw one that might just work.
It was Pale Shadow: Target enemy is attacked by its own image for 10 seconds. It deals the same damage but has 1 Health.
As he was now, he couldn''t cast the spell with his snail speed mana regeneration. However, he had held off on leveling for such an occasion!
Leveling up to level 8, Varrus felt refreshed, and promptly added everything to mana capacity, then dumped two perk points into Illusion Mastery (2) -Illusion spells cost 35/50% less Magicka, Illusion spells last 0.5/1% longer per level of Illusion, and mind affecting Illusion spells (Calm, Fear, Frenzy, Rally) are 0.1/0.2 points stronger per level of Illusion.
With this level up, the atrocious debuff had changed as well. It now read:
[Mana Addiction (Sated): -0% mana regeneration.]
He now had 180 mana, and with the Illusion Mastery perk he could cast the now 56 mana (down from 112 mana) spell three times in a row.
Taking aim, Varrus tried his best to hit Adonis, but became flustered when a nerubian climbed up the balcony directly in front of him.
Eight eyes stared into two, and Varrus unconsciously released the spell directly upon the horse sized spider.
The nerubian''s mandibles opened wide, and a sickly web ball began to form. However, Varrus''s spell hit first, and a pale, translucent red energy construct mimicking the nerubian''s appearance spawned directly behind it.
Without waiting for a command, the construct reached forward, and body slammed its counterpart, breaking its legs, and pushing it off the balcony down below.
Varrus gripped his rapidly beating heart at the close encounter, then risked moving to the ledge of the balcony to take aim once more.
But they were moving too fast!
"Sorceress, slow him for me! I can end him!" Varrus cried out in desperation.
The sorceress was in the midst of her own fight, yet she turned, and cast Slow just as Varrus had commanded. She caught a gargoyle''s claw to the back, and was carried away for her troubles.
Varrus grimaced at her predicament, but knew he had to honor her sacrifice and hit that damn duelist!
Taking aim, Varrus saw an opening, and took the shot.
"Fuck!" Varrus swore as the ghoul behind Adonis formed a copy.
At that moment, his wife spared him a glance, then gave him a radiant smile.
What was she?
Varrus''s eyes widened as he saw her unclassified her cloak, and tossed it at Adonis like a matador playing with a bull. At the same time, she left herself open, and scored a blow on her arm guard.
Metal shrieked, and his wife suffered a shallow, yet death energy infused attack, forcing her arm to go limp.
"Oh woe is that creature known as Hero. All their hopes placed upon you, all their adulation. And for what? A sword through the gut! Do you regret it now girl? I know I have. My failure has enlightened me to a greater cause, now allow me to enlighten you!" Adonis stood over his wife in triumph, blade raised.
His mocking voice carried over the wind, and several Highborn died from the distraction.
Varrus had seen the cloak tossing gamble for what it was, and released his final spell right as Adonis raised his sword for the final strike.
The red ball of energy traveled through the chaotic battlefield, and struck the Death Knight in the side.
A moment later, a red construct that was a mirror image of Adonis spawned behind him. Without any hesitation, it sliced into Adonis from his shoulder to his waist.
The Death Knight twisted around, and dissipated the phantom with one slash. However, the damage done to his body was serious, and his torso barely held on to the lower half of his body.
"This treachery is an affront to the duelist''s honor!" Adonis raged from the floor as he struggled to come to his knees.
Raising his blade high, he began to slash it down toward Syra with wild abandon.
"Young, talented, you will make an excellent Death Knight in the service of His Majesty!"
However, an impenetrable bubble of light covered Syra''s form, preventing any further attacks from hitting her.
"The Sunwell has fallen! Submit! Submit to the Lich King! Without your precious Light, your powers you are nothing! Only He can grant you eternity!" Adonis raged as he slammed his cursed blade upon the bubble again and again.
His repeated actions began to lessen the bubble''s light, and slowly cause it to twist and deform. It was only a matter of time before he got in.
"A font of limitless power? Who needs it?" Syra said calmly, and as a statement of fact.
"What did you say?!" Adonis said in surprise.
"So long as my beloved draws breath, my inner Light shines brighter than a mere pool of water!" The bubble popped of Syra''s own volition during Adonis'' next strike.
"Your insanity is your downfall!"
"My beloved is my strength!" Syra said in conviction. As she spoke, her form began to glow brighter than ever before.
A bright flash of holy white light spread from her like the flash of nuclear fire.
Adonis was forced back 10ft, and left a skid mark of foul undead pus upon the marble ground. His flesh was bubbling, and his once handsome face was scarred full of pockmarks.
"What sorcery is this?! The Sunwell has fallen. How?! How could you possibly have the energy to face me?!" Adonis raged.
"You sad twisted creature, didn''t you listen to a word of mine?" Syra said softly as she rubbed the braid of hair tied to her wrist.
"Bullshit! The magic of love is a fantasy told to children and-kuahh!"
A blitz of speed, and a flash of light later and Adonis was missing his legs. He was nothing more than a mutilated torso sitting atop smoldering stumps. Light energy coursed through his veins, and erupted from his mouth and eyes.
He reached for his blade, only to have Syra''s buster sword drop down on it, snapping it in two.
With a look of disbelief on his face, Adonis slumped to the ground, truly and wholly dead as his tether to the world was broken apart.
With the disintegration of the Death Knight, the cohesiveness of the zombie horde began to crumble, and they once again turned into mindless pawns that struck at the nearest opponent.
While this was cheerful news, the Highborn line was weary, and near collapse with mana hunger. The civilians no longer launched fireballs, the rangers shot only normal arrows, and the arcane wizard was the only one still able to cast basic magic with his larger than normal mana pool. The only blessing was that the enchanted weapons of the warriors and paladins didn''t lose their luster.
The line had devolved into chaos, and it was a struggle for any of them to survive.
Syra also looked like she was flagging, and was under threat of being swarmed. Before, each of her swipes took out six or more undead, now, she barely took out one at a time. With her forward position away from the line, it would only be a matter of time before she took a fatal blow!
By this point, Varrus'' mana had regenerated to the point that he could cast a few more spells, but he knew he alone would not be enough to turn the tide.
Glancing through his spells, he stopped on one in particular. Mana Stone! If he could somehow recharge Syra, she would be enough to defend them until Arthas took the bulk of the undead out of Silvermoon for his next mission!
Glancing down the high jump from the balcony, Varrus wished he didn''t think he would survive with his 90hp. The elf trait of -10% hp was too serious!
However, under the Alteration spell list, he could cast Drop Zone if he leveled Alteration up to Apprentice! And Mana Stone was an Alteration spell!
Without any hesitation, Varrus began spamming Mana Stone. It was a channeling ability similar to WoW when you crafted something, and took 1.2 seconds to cast at the cost of 9 mana.
Dumping 2 perk points into Alteration Mastery, and reducing the cost of Alteration spells by 50%, the Novice Mana Stone ability cost him 4.5 mana!
Standing in place, Varrus began to spam Mana Stone over and over again.
With his 180 mana, he made 40 mana stones, and would only need to consume 18 to top up. Each stone was blue, and the size of a rupee from Zelda. They weighed 0.1, and with a carry limit of 300, his inventory was soon stacked to the brim.
Spamming this ability over and over again saw him level from Novice to Apprentice in less than five minutes. He also leveled to 15, increasing his total mana to 250, and had 7 perk points remaining after spending them on increased mastery in Destruction, Restoration, Illusion, and Alteration.
As soon as he cast Drop Zone, a red/orange circle the size of a car appeared on the ground. As long as he fell into that spot, his fall damage would reduce to zero. Before he jumped, he cast one more spell on himself.
It was the illusion spell, Ghostwalk: Caster is invisible for 10 seconds or until broken, then teleports back to where the spell was cast.
He then fell down into the glowing circle, with his elven trait, such a thing was smoother than any jump he had done back on Earth.
Invisible, Varrus sprinted toward Syra. He felt his lungs burn from the exertion as his puny 100 stamina was quickly depleted, but he had to make it.
His wife was on her last legs, and the mana sickness seemed to be catching up to her. While her faith and love for him kept the Light blazing around her, it was dimming, and possessed 1/10th of its peak value. Clearly the fight with Adonis in the midst of the sunwell exploding had drained her.
Reaching her side, Varrus barely dodged a Scourge ghoul, if it hit him, his invisibility would be broken, and he would be returned to his original position all for nought.
Slipping under the legs of another undead, Varrus gripped Syra in a bare hug.
He took a powerful fist to the forehead for his troubles in which he saw stars, but then saw vertigo as he and Syra reverted to his original position. Discombobulated, Varrus had fallen atop Syra, and had difficulty speaking through the pain.
"Varrus! My love¡No! No, no, no, you are okay, you are okay! You will be okay!" Syra realized what she had done, and warm tears began to fall upon Varrus''s forehead.
She tried to form light upon her hand and heal him, but only sparks and light motes would sputter forth.
Varrus coughed, and raised his hand to Heal.
"I am fine."
"You, you beautiful, loveable fool. Why!? Why didn''t you stay inside? I could''ve done it. I would''ve protected you from this." Syra said, and meaningfully gripped the tattered remnants of his robe where the weakened wind scythe had scored a blow.
Syra''s soft, bell-like voice, and obvious concern touched Varrus'' heart, and it was difficult for him to grow angry at her.
"Hahh, didn''t you say it? It''s the power of love. Besides, shouldn''t I be the one concerned here?" Varrus sighed, and looked meaningfully at her damaged bracers, and the scar on her arm.
"Anyway, this discussion can wait for later! Quick, crush these and absorb the mana within!" Varrus opened his inventory, and dumped out 238 Mana Stones.
In the five minutes of creating a Mana Stone every 1.2 seconds, he made 250 stones. He only needed to consume 12 of them in between level ups, leaving the rest for Syra.
"The Vandercross family heirloom spell! You do care!" Syra seemed to recognize the ability, and gripped Varrus''s forearm so tightly, he felt like it would break.
"It''s not that special, anyone could conjure magic water that could do the same." Varrus downplayed the ability.
"Of course it''s special! Vandercross Mana Stones do not decay over time like a potion, and are made of pure arcane power with zero side effects! Do not discount our House again like that!" Syra roughly poked Varrus in the ribs in a fit of faux? anger.
"Yes, yes, my love for you is like a Mana Stone. So please, heal your mana sickness Syra Vandercross, you are my only hope." Varrus said in a combination of sarcasm and earnestness.
Syra patted him on the head, then plucked another one of his hairs for her wristband. She then absorbed the stones all in one go, but a frown appeared on her face, she then looked eagerly at him, like some sort of puppy that had found its favorite treat. "Can you make more? This hasn''t even been a tenth of my mana." She said, and tilted her head to the side.
Varrus'' heart stopped from the cuteness of it all. Seriously, if they weren''t on the brink of death, he would cuddle with this woman even if his bones broke.
"Of course! Please reinforce the line, and I will make more!" Varrus nodded in encouragement.
Dumping a perk point into Alteration Dual cast, the effectiveness of the Mana Stone had increased by 2x, at an increased cost of 1.5x. So if he dual cast Mana Stone (novice) it cost 6.75 mana for a 20 mana return.
However, now that he was Apprentice in Alteration, he could cast Mana Stone (Apprentice). After channeling for 5 seconds, he could create a (for base cost) 100 mana Stone for 90 mana. After everything was taken into account and he dual casted, this 5 second stone would yield 200 mana, and cost 67.5 mana.
In effect, he could cast the spell roughly 60 times in 5 minutes, minus costs and considering level ups, he would have 50 Mana Stones by the end of the operation.
He was aiming for 50 skill level, then he could learn the perk Intuitive Magic: - Novice and apprentice spells of any school cost 100% less Magicka to cast. As well as 100 skill level, because at 100, spell cost was reduced by 41%! Combined with his Alteration Mastery perk, that would be a whopping 91% reduction! Of course, he also had the potential to limitlessly legendary Alteration, and theoretically gain unending levels.
Course set, Varrus began to channel Mana Stone (Apprentice) as much as he could.
While Varrus was busy power leveling, the necromancer that was speaking with Adonis earlier had managed to get the rabid Scourge into some semblance of order, and had renewed the assault upon the Vandercross estate.
"Damned idiot should''ve waited for reinforcements." The necromancer muttered to himself, then signaled for the Meat Wagon Catapults to ram into the diminished elven line at full force.
Three wheeled constructs made of wood and metal lumbered forth. About the size of a typical sedan, these catapults moved autonomously, and were animated with various sinew turning the wheels. Mounted at the very front of them, they had a large row of spikes + a trough somewhat similar to a snowplow.
Rumbling to the front of the zombie horde, the meat wagon catapults charged full speed ahead, reaching up to 25mph.
Varrus noticed the catapults while he was busy charging Mana Stones, and he quickly gave his spell list a once over, and then for the first time in the day, he smiled.
Under the Apprentice spell section, he had the perfect skill to stop a car.
"Please work." Varrus muttered to himself as he began to cast his magic.
Raising his hand, Varrus pointed at a spot a few feet in front of one Meat Wagon, then released the energy he had been gathering.
Near instantaneously, a stone wall thick as a refrigerator, and 8ft long sprang up, impeding the catapult. The undead construct tried to plow through, but it was stopped as its spikes got lodged into the wall.
Satisfied, Varrus raised his, preparing to do the same to the remaining Meat Wagons, when a team of Arcane Golems came out of the estate, and crashed with them head on.
Metal shrieked as the golems got down low, and overturned the Meat Wagons like some sort of jiu-jitsu wrestler. Overturned on their side, the Meat Wagon''s wheels turned and accelerated, but were unable to move.
The golems were decked out in crimson red armor, and looked something akin to a spacemarine. Standing at 8ft tall, these mini tanks didn''t stop at the Meat Wagons, and began to wade through the Scourge.
Every step they took crushed an undead. And when they became swarmed, they would cast Arcane Explosion. The purple light instantly exploded from the golem in a 360 sphere, burning any who stood to close.
With the arrival of the golems, the tide of battle began to shift as the undead had no further reinforcements.
In fact, after the Sunwell explosion, Varrus could very clearly see tens of thousands of undead in the distance marching out of Silvermoon.
They could''ve very easily stopped to wipe their holdout into oblivion, but since they served Arthas, they were commanded to follow where he led.
Before long, there wasn''t an undead present within the Vandercross estate. They had successfully survived.
Varrus let out a sigh of relief, and plopped down into a sitting position.
Just as he was about to close his eyes, he received a pair of new quests.
[Remember the Sunwell!: repair the Sunwell 0/999,999,999 mana]
[Retake Silvermoon: 0/20,000 undead slain]
"Oh fuck me." Varrus let out an even bigger breath of air as he beheld his new impossible tasks.
"I was hoping you would say that." A soft voice purred in his ear.
Snapping his eyes open, Varrus felt himself lifted up by his armpits, then carried bridal style.
Eyes going wide, Varrus beheld his wife smiling down at him, and all resistance fled him.
''Ah what the hell, shitty Skyrim quests don''t give any direct reward half the time! I''ll take this as my just due!'' Varrus nodded his head, and justified to himself.
"So cute." Syra said as she found an empty room within the vast estate.
She then slammed Varrus down onto the bed, and then ripped his tattered cloak off. Like some sort of hungry animal, she discarded her shoulder pads in a hurry, and tossed her armor to the floor lightning fast.
Prowling forward, Syra swayed her hips like a beast in heat. Every slow step of hers jiggled her cleavage, and Varrus began to feel his eyes dilate, and his pulse quicken.
Her breath was hot and heavy as she dressed herself upon him. Syra pressed her lips to Varrus'', and began to grind her hips into his crotch.
Her golden hair tickled the side of his cheek, her grip on his shoulders was intense-even a little painful-but the pleasure outweighed any pain.
Sticking his tongue out, Varrus noted his wife''s surprise as her eye widened. Then as if she had discovered the most wonderful thing in the world, Syra stuck her tongue into Varrus'' mouth, and the two began to suck on one another, and picked up the speed of their humping.
Breathless, Varrus clunked his forehead into hers, and stared unblinkingly into her golden eyes.
For the first time, he saw his confident, overbearing wife blush!
"Give. Give it to me." Syra said in a hushed tone as she stuttered.
Varrus was stunned silent! He couldn''t help but chuckle at this innocent cute side.
"Please." Syra all but begged.
Her erotic voice sent shivers down Varrus'' spine, and his erection stiffened to the hardest it''d ever been.
"Lay on your back." Varrus said gently.
Syra eagerly obeyed, and looked up at him with sparkling eyes.
After moving into a missionary position, Varrus drank in his wife''s perfect curves, ample bosom, and angelic face. It seemed so unreal, yet he was relishing every second of it. This girl, this great killer on the battlefield was like a newborn kitten being fed milk. She was adorable.
Getting into position, a sudden bout of nervousness began to assault him. What if he wasn''t good enough?
Varrus gulped. His heart was beating a million times a minute. His knees went weak, and his palms sweaty. Taking a deep breath, Varrus aimed his stiffy, and took the plunge.
"Hnyahh!" Syra moaned, then forcefully gripped Varrus by the back of the head, and brought him down for a long, deep kiss.
Reaching out to hold her hands, Varrus began to increase the tempo as pleasure assaulted him.
"Huhhh. Huhhh. Huhhh." Quiet gasps escaped his mouth as he did all in his power to control his orgasm from spilling out.
"Yes! Yes! Yes!" Syra screamed louder than any other time he had heard her speak.
Every time his cock slapped in and out of her pussy, he felt her body quiver.
Deciding to up the antey, Varrus activated his stamina, and cast the spell Longstride: While concentrating, grants 20% movement speed and 25 carry weight, tripled when out of combat.
Her boobs jiggled as his momentum began to pick up, and her face took on an entirely red hue.
Syra''s primal screams turned into wordless howls like some sort of ancient beast as she orgasmed. Her eyes glazed over, and Varrus felt her contract and tighten all around him.
''Fuck!'' Varrus felt himself get close as his wife''s grip on him got stronger.
She wrapped her legs around him, and shuddered like never before. Syra then pulled Varrus down, and passionately kissed him while he pounded away.
Syra then held his forehead close, and he could feel her hot breath tickle his chin.
"I, I''m close!" Varrus said between panting breaths.
"Impregnate me. Make me a mother Varrus. Please!"
"Hah hah hah!" Varrus panted heavily as he thrust his hips forward, and released all he had in him.
"Oh, oh God." Varrus muttered in pleasure as he finished inside.
Breathing heavily, he flopped down in bed next to Syra, and felt her boobs press into his side as she moved to cuttle.
Letting the days'' woes wash over him, Varrus closed his eyes, and welcomed the best sleep of his life.
"I want twelve." Varrus heard a sleepy muttered voice next to his ear.
Snapping his eyes open, he side eyed his wife.
He had -95% the fertility rate of a human, this crazy bitch was going to be the end of him!
While Varrus had an internal panic attack his wife happily snuggled closer, and fell asleep in his embrace.
"Hahh, goodnight, love." Varrus said, letting go of his worries as he gently stroked her hair.
AN: The first 7 chapters are extra long (7-10k), but from ch 8 onwards, they¡¯re the standard 2-3k in length to keep up with daily releases.
Ordinator Perks
Apocalypse Magic
Chapter 2
Varrus woke up to the sound of soft moans, and the steady slap of flesh on flesh coming from another room. There was nothing quite like a zombie genocide to get people''s survival instinct to kick in it seemed.
Feeling a warm body under his right arm, Varrus almost flinched when he saw her unblinkingly looking at him.
Instead of pulling away, he smiled, and booped Syra''s nose with the tip of his finger.
Her smile widened, and she took a deep whiff of him, then exhaled in seeming bliss. Without saying a word, she plucked another one of his hairs, and started to weave it together with the other two she had stolen previously.
She would channel the Light into the hair, and giggle to herself as she basked in some morning sun spilling in from the window.
For such an effective killer and borderline psycho, Syra really was a cutie. Especially that innocent bell-like laughter of hers. If Varrus didn''t know any better, he would treat her threat to scoop out his eyeballs lightly.
Internally scoffing at the childish, yet charming scene. It almost felt so unreal. This whole situation was crazy. Especially the new sensations! His heightened awareness, the uncanny balance, and the feeling of mana everywhere almost overwhelmed him.
This was his world now, and he needed to do everything he could to survive. The best way to do that besides grinding levels was to increase his influence, and the power of the Highborn in general.
After 90% of their population got genocided, there should be little more than 20-122k remaining. Blizzard was never forthcoming on the exact numbers, but Varrus was hoping for more survivors with him in the mix. However, it wasn''t just the High Elves who were at a disadvantage at this time. Most other races suffered cataclysmically during this time.
Gnomeregan fell, the Tauren almost went extinct due to the Centaur, the Dark Spear were a small tribe that fled Stranglethorn, the Orcs were the remnants of concentration camps, and the Humans of Stormwind were rebuilding their city. The Night Elves too would soon be facing a demonic tribulation in the near future. The only race that managed to hold onto everything were the Dwarves of Ironforge.
Times were tough for most of the civilized races.
With such low numbers between them, joining a faction, either the Horde or the Alliance made sense.
However, with his foreknowledge, Varrus was hesitant to sign on with either side. Namely because the High Elves didn''t particularly fit in with either camp.
In the Horde, the Trolls, Tauren, and Orcs were best bros. Whereas in the Alliance, the Humans, Gnomes, and Dwarves were the same. In these two factions, the Highborn would be outsiders, subservient to Orc or Human wishes. It''s like if Switzerland joined NATO. As if the major factions would bother listening to Switzerland when it came to planning global defense.
Also, it was highly unlikely that a High Elf would ever be accepted as Warchief. Hell, fucking Thrall made his best friend''s son Warchief before Cairn, or Vol''Jin because supposedly the rest of the Orcs wouldn''t accept a non-orc! Cairn was literally the best bro from Warcraft 3, and the Tauren were the chillest people!
The Alliance was also a wash, because most Humans didn''t trust anyone but themselves with leadership. Stormwind in particular were greedy for leadership, even turning King Genn Greymane of Gilneas into their whipping boy. And so long as Jain Proudmoore drew breath, she would simp for Stormwind as well, leaving Kul Tiras out of any Human x Elf alliance. Honestly, he couldn''t blame the Humans for their distrust. Because he wouldn''t have much faith in the Elves either. They didn''t exactly have the best track record considering they went afk and sat out the entire Scourging of Lordaeron as well as sent only token forces during the 2nd War.
Garrithos was a prime example of humanity''s distrust. People could say "he was only one racist." But his entire army, including the Dwarves, were okay with executing Kael''Thas'' entire contingent over a minor misunderstanding.
People like Anduin-those who were kind even to the vilest people-were the very rare exception. Instead, extreme people like Jaina or Arthas who acted without consulting their allies were the norm. Most Human citizens were peasants with no education, and the ruling elite were the same nobility that refused to pay the stonemasons who rebuilt Stormwind, creating the Defias Brotherhood in the process. Simply put, the majority of Humans were selfish, and would only play ball if the Elves followed their lead. They would say it''s an Alliance where all voices were equal, but canonically, the Night Elves saw first hand just how equal they were in the Alliance when Teldrassil was burned.
When it came to the Horde and their inclusion of Trolls, there was no bigger negative than that for a potential High Elf alliance. Silvermoon was literally built upon the remains of a Troll holy site! The hatred between the Amani and Quel''Dorei was unreconcilable! Add to the fact that High Elves had killed countless Orcs in the 2nd War, and it could be said the two races didn''t exactly have much in common. The Horde didn''t seem like the best option.
Whereas the Alliance would soon have the Night Elves, which still hated the Highborn for blowing up the world during the Sundering. Some might think "oh, they''re related, they can reconcile." Not when people like Maiev hunted Illidan down to the ends of the earth-sacrificing all her soldiers in the process-because he dared to use arcane and fel magic. When an immortal being harbors a grudge of hatred lasting 10,000 years, it would be unbelievable for them to suddenly change their mind and be okay with arcane magic, or the people accused of destroying everything.
Whichever team the High Elves joined, they would become marginalized, and be used as a pawn between two great powers.
While Varrus wasn''t keen on joining either faction, he wasn''t 100% opposed to doing so if the conditions were right. Orgrimmar and Stormwind did have a serious amount of plot armor about them. At the very least, he wouldn''t mind maintaining cordial relations between both sides.
However, to shore up the Highborn''s lack of numbers, forming a faction under Elven leadership seemed much more promising in his opinion.
Like how all other races in the Horde/Alliance were subservient to the whims of Stormwind and Orgirmmar, Varrus wanted a faction that followed Silvermoon''s lead.
In this regard, he was taking heavy inspiration from the Covenant in Halo. With the High Elves occupying a position similar to the Prophets, and the allied races acting as their agents.
The races he had in mind were the Kobolds, Ogres, Goblins, Wildhammer Dwarves and the surviving Humans of Lordaeran.
Kobolds, for example, would make for excellent resource gatherers, and were gullible enough to obey whoever wore the biggest candle on their head. They would fill the role of Grunts in this scenario. Bonus, they were afraid of the dark, and could possibly be brought into the fold/controlled via Light based religion.
In a fight, Kobolds weren''t very impressive, yet arm them with a pick and some explosives, and they could become the deadliest of sappers. No fort or castle could withstand them. People didn''t have a very high opinion of the rodents, and neither did Varrus. However, logistics was logistics, and Kobolds mined just as good or better than any Dwarf. He was sure he could round up a few packs if he went searching near some abandoned mines.
Ogres were big, stupid, magic resistant, and strong as heck. They filled the role of Brutes. They loved smashing stuff, and were built like tanks. A tribe made their home in Alterac Valley, and Varrus figured he might be able to convince them with a combination of brainwashing their leader (like Sylvanas had done) if he went the evil route. OR he might be able to feed them a ludicrous amount of food. Heck, he may not need to resort to any foul play if the food was good enough.
Ogres were known to be hired on as mercenaries, even to Humans, so it wasn''t out of the realm of possibility. And if he knew Ogres, he knew that they loved gorging themselves full. They were considered a race of morons, but hey, apparently police weren''t accepted if their IQ went beyond a certain threshold too. The best kind of enforcers were the type that wouldn''t ask questions, and were just there for the pay. Ogres properly motivated by food could become the perfect frontline thugs Varrus was looking for.
Goblins were a no-brainer. Occupying the spot of jackals or engineers, Goblins were as mercenary as it got. As long as you had money, and a contract, you could be assured of their loyalty. Varrus considered them to be a combination of the Hunters and the Engineers. Basically, Goblins brought guns, cannons and mechs to the table as well as some very unconventional weapons. As for payment, gold would not be a problem. For one, the valuables of hundreds of thousands of Highborn literally became free real estate. If that option wasn''t available, then Varrus would eventually learn a spell that literally turned someone into gold coins, or could always transmute iron into gold.
Goblins were crazy, but sometimes you needed crazy to pull off an impossible mission. In particular, Varrus was interested in the Goblin company that held on during the siege of Orgrimmar. Those Goblins were badass, and fought to the death! Grommash hadn''t recruited them to his banner in this timeline, and if it was up to Varrus, he never would.
The Wildhammer Dwarves rode gryphons, and tossed magical electric hammers just like Thor, the God of Thunder. Like Elites from Halo, they could drop down on the enemy, kill a group of enemies twice their number, and disappear towards the next group of enemies in a flash. They were loud, bodacious, twice as strong as the average man, and shared a common enemy, the Amani Trolls. Canonically, the Amani would suffer a colossal defeat after the destruction of the Sunwell. If Varrus could pivot that into a Elf achievement, he could team up with the Wildhammer, and sway them to his cause.
Unlike the Ironforge Dwarves, the Wildhammer were also big on shamanism, and could be promised loot/knowledge that only the Trolls possessed. They would be the most difficult to convince, but once they were sworn in, they would prove to be the most loyal of allies. Varrus figured there was no further explanation needed for why he would want them as allies, Dwarves were badass.
Lastly, both the members of the Silver Hand, and Scarlet Crusade would make for prime allies and subordinates. Despite his misgivings, Varrus was a Human at heart, and hated to see them suffer. If Varrus wanted to secure his new peoples place in the world, finding a faction of Humans to collaborate with was a must. Ravaged by plague, the Humans of Lordaeron suffered just as much as the Highborn-or more-and share in religion, magical knowledge and culture. Varrus was interested in a few of their Heroes, and was impressed by the somewhat large number of survivors that managed to survive the zombie apacolypse. Events such as these tended to bring out the strongest, and most resilient of humanity to the fore. Despite their seeming weakness, the Humans of the Eastern Kingdoms managed to launch a campaign on Northrend, and had held out against both the Scourge under Kel''Thuzad, and Sylvannas'' Forsaken for years.
Additionally, the Scarlet Crusade at this time was lead by the wielder of the Ash Bringer, Alexandros motherfucking Mograine. The dude was a beast, and would make for a solid ally. Not to mention, his youngest son was so OP, he eventually ended up becoming the leader of all the Death Knights. Since Varrus was about 2-5 years before the start of WoW, there would be time to save Alexandros from the Dreadlord Mal''Ganis. Additionally, the survivors of Lordaeroan could serve as the primary infantry against both the Scourge, and Forsaken. In a world where the Covenant incorporated Humans into their army, the Silver Hand + Scarlet Crusade working together would serve as the ultimate front line force in this union of power. With their staunch devotion to the Light, Varrus was confident he could sway them to his side by performing powerful spells from the Restoration skill tree.
As for why he didn''t include the Forsaken on this list of allies/vassals, despite Sylvannas, an undead High Elf being their leader? Because that crazy bitch had a revenge boner 22in long, and coerced the Blood Elves into fighting in Northrend! Regent Lor''Themar after winning the fight in Outland during the Burning Crusade wanted nothing more than to chill out, and gather his forces to rebuild. Sylvannas had no chill, and said ''if you don''t invade Northrend, I''m coming for you first.'' Talk about a lack of loyalty!
Quite frankly, Varrus couldn''t trust that a zombie wouldn''t snap, and go all ''brains! brains!'' on him. How many of the Forsaken had extreme PTSD, and didn''t give a fuck anymore? Because if Putrice could gleefully sacrifice hundreds of his own allies during Wotlk with chemical weapons, then that wasn''t the kind of friend Varrus wanted to team up with. Maybe they could make for temporary allies, but he would always have to be on the lookout for a poisoned arrow in the back. After his experience with the Scourge, Varrus came to the conclusion that the only good Undead was permanently dead.
But before he even thought about joining another faction, or starting one, he needed to secure Silvermoon first.
To bolster his own people, he would endeavor to invest in things like arcane: grenades, mines, automatic defense towers, golems, artillery, abusing teleportation, and flying ships/flying island fortresses.
Varrus was so excited planning out future political machinations, he didn''t notice his hair getting tugged until he felt a small pain at the root of his scalp.
His wife was glaring at him like a kitten demanding attention.
"Come here." Varrus pointed at his lap.
Syra shifted over the bed sheets, and rested on his crotch.
Facing her back, Varrus began to rub her shoulders.
"Oh!" Syra squeaked at the sudden contact.
Varrus grinned as he began to work on an especially tight knot on her back.
Syra squirmed back and forth, and started to rock on his lap, forcing his cock to rise at full mast.
Ignoring his erection, Varrus only focused on pleasuring his wife.
Years of massaging his elderly aunts was beginning to pay off as Syra became putty in his grip.
As his elbow dug into her shoulder, Syra leaned back into his chest, and rested her head beneath her chin.
She then gripped both his hands, and swung their hands together slowly like a swing.
Varrus sat there, and basked in the warmth of the sun, and the softness of Syra''s body. Closing his eyes, Varrus took in her scent, and let out a long content exhale.
Cliche as it was, this is what he would fight for. He didn''t know if he loved her, but he was willing to give it a try. She obviously cared for him to the point she threatened her mother. Not to mention she was pretty, cute, and surprisingly innocent.
Varrus felt his headrest drop down, and he almost fell forward, only to be caught by Syra''s powerful grasp. However, her strength seemed to leave her, and Varrus looked on in concern.
"Am fine." Syra said weakly between a mumbled breath.
Varrus frowned, then remembered he never did top her up on mana. She must still be suffering from mana withdrawals!
Any horniness fled his system as concern over Syra''s wellbeing took priority.
"Bask in the Light, and try to absorb some of its mana my love. In the meantime, I will make some Mana Stones. This time I will be the one to protect you." Varrus said firmly.
"Don''t overdo it." Syra said with an obviously forced smile.
Varrus felt pain in his heart, then weakly smiled back at her.
"I won''t, don''t worry about me." Varrus gave her a peck on the cheek, and then moved to the side of the bed in preparation to create more Mana Stones.
Restoring the Sunwell just got personal.
Now, not only did he want to restart the Sunwell, but he also wanted to help feed his people''s magic addiction. Especially those taking refuge in his estate. If he could get them sated, then he could team up with them, and clear Silvermoon out of the undead. At the same time, he would greatly enhance his prestige, enhancing his agenda.
Taking a look at his spells, Varrus tried to map out the most efficient way to provide for both his wife/people, and his goal of restoring the Sunwell.
The Mana Stone had five ranks, and without any perks reducing the cost, it looked like so:
- Mana Stone (novice) produce: 10 mana, cost: 9 mana, 1.2 second cast time
- Mana Stone (apprentice) p: 100 mana, cost: 90 mana 5s cast
- Mana Stone (adept) p: 1,000 mana, cost: 900 mana, 10s cast
- Mana Stone (expert) p: 10,000 mana, cost: 9,000 mana, 15s cast
- Mana Stone (master) p: 100,000 mana, cost: 90,000 mana, 20s cast
The experience he gained in Alteration from making the apprentice stone was worth about as much exp as making an iron dagger.
When taking into account his status of Magically Inclined, allowing him to learn magic skills 25% faster, he would max out his Alteration level after making about (originally 2400~) 1,800~ stones. After doing the math, Varrus figured he should be able to get to 100 Alteration after roughly 2hrs, 30 minutes of nonstop labor.
When Varrus made his first Mana Stone of the day however, he was surprised to see that the experience yield was higher than anticipated.
Checking his status once more, he discovered a new development.
Lovers Comfort: Skills improve 15% faster for 8hrs.
Since he had slept in a bed with his spouse, he gained a new buff.
Now to get to Alteration 100, it would only take him roughly 1,440 stones, or 2hrs.
Glancing at his wife, Varrus silently thanked her, and nodded at her as she stared unblinkingly at him.
Smile turning slightly awkward at the intense staring, Varrus turned off his brain, and began the mind numbing task of churning out Mana Stones.
Just like tediousness at work, Varrus moved his body like a machine. Every three casts would drain him of his mana. He would then consume one stone for himself, hand one to Syra, then throw the remaining one into a corner of the room.
Rinse and repeat for half an hour, and he could finally lock in the perk Intuitive Magic (2) - novice and apprentice spells of any school cost 100% less Magicka to cast.
Now, he would hand one stone to his wife, and stockpile two in the corner.
With her ever increasing amount of mana, Syra began to perform nude stretches in front of a mirror.
She seemed to notice Varrus watching her as he spammed Mana Stone creation, and she began to make some funny faces at him in her reflection.
Since Varrus was channeling a spell, and couldn''t move, it wasn''t like he couldn''t talk, or watch something. He just didn''t want to get distracted and have any time loss. However, since he didn''t have to time his consumables to top up, and just cast the spell every 5 seconds, he amused himself with Syra''s antics.
The buxom blonde started doing kicks, flips, and all sorts of acrobatics. Her curves jiggled in all the right places, and the light sheen of sweat coating her thighs almost broke Varrus'' willpower.
It was the gym all over again. There was just something about the way a woman moved while exercising that set his heart ablaze.
Varrus shut his eyes so that he wouldn''t be tempted to stop his grind. His breath hitched, and he felt his arm get pinpricks, because even though he had his eyes closed, Syra''s exercising body was seared into his brain.
Biting his lip, Varrus opened his eyes, only to see his wife hunched over, and looking at him from no more than a couple inches away.
Her face took on a mischievous grin as she looked down, then looked back up to him.
What was so funny down ther-"Oh very funny." Varrus remarked sarcastically.
His robes were beginning to expand near the waistline as a stiffy started to form, and there was nothing he could do abou-"are you mad woman?!"
While he was pretty sure nothing would happen from being fondled while he cast magic, this wasn''t a game! Miscasts were real, and could cause anything from something serious like explosions to something harmless like a change in hair color! People who miscast Blink, for example, would splice themselves in half!
Varrus weakly protested with a muttered groan as Syra reached her hand onto his shaft, and began jerking him off.
"I believe in you. You are a big strong man, and I am a helpless maiden. If you can cast magic while I distract you, you won''t ever miscast on the battlefield." Syra whispered seductively in his ear, and gave him a little nibble.
Varrus wanted to squirm in her grip, but channeling magic was a precise art, and until he got the perk allowing movement, he was bound in place.
"Do your worst." Varrus hissed between gasps of pleasure.
Syra wordlessly kissed him on the lips, and began to breath heavily into his ear.
She then lowered herself to her knees, and began slowly, painfully, tortuously, licking the side of his shaft.
"Hah, hah." Varrus panted, and closed his eyes trying to force himself to endure, and enjoy his wife''s love for as long as possible.
Syra started to flick his dick, gently caress his balls, and even gently place her teeth on the side of his shaft. He could feel her saliva coat his dick, and he desperately wanted to shove it down her throat, but his concentration was key. He had to persevere, his man pride wouldn''t allow him to give in just like that!
After 15 minutes of soft foreplay/edging, Syra began to pout, and looked up at Varrus with a pitiful look.
Varrus let loose a grin full of false bravado down at Syra as her edging play had failed to make him cum. He was almost there a dozen times, but he was holding out just for this occasion.
"You''re good Syra, but if you want to finish me off, you''ll have to do better than that." Varrus smiled, then felt his hips get gripped from behind.
Syra placed the tip of his dick on her tongue, and very slowly lapped up his head.
Precum began to drip onto the corner of her mouth, and dribble down the side of her chin.
The erotic scene turned Varrus on even more, and his dick began to bob up and down in excitement as he orgasmed. His cum sprayed all over Syra''s face, and fell upon her chest.
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Syra giggled into her hand, then wiped her face clean with a towel. She then raised an eyebrow suggestively at Varrus'' hardon, then went back to practicing martial arts like nothing had happened.
Varrus'' heart was in turmoil. He was raring, and raging to go further, but checking his progress bar, he was very close to 100.
Who knew time would go so fast while he spent it with his beautiful wife?
A little while later, Varrus had finally hit 100 in Alteration, leveled up to 25 upping his total mana to 350, and placed several perks in the Alteration tree.
They were all pretty powerful, but there were a few that deserved mentioning.
This set of perks made Varrus a near unkillable demon. Especially Distorted Shape + the spell Ocato''s Recital. Ocato'' Recital allowed him to chain 3 beneficial spells to activate when he enters combat at no mana cost. He could preload Ebony Flesh, Invisibility, and Battletide basically becoming invincible.
Honestly, Varrus couldn''t wait to cast the Acceleration Rune. Nothing was more satisfying than watching your enemy yeet themselves off a cliff, or into the horizon.
Perks:
Mage Armor (3) - Protection spells like Stoneflesh are 100/150/200% stronger if not wearing armor.
Geomancer - If wearing robes and no light or heavy armor, you take 30% less damage from attacks while charging or concentrating on a spell.
Distorted Shape - When you gain an armor spell in combat (or enter combat with an active armor spell), you become intangible and unable to be affected by spells or attacks for 10 seconds or until you perform an offensive or defensive action.
Ocato''s Recital: Stores the (beneficial self-targeted non-concentration) spell in your left hand and casts it for no cost whenever you enter combat. Up to 3 spells. Empty left hand to reset.
Battletide: Steals 80 points of armor rating from each nearby target for 30 seconds. The caster gains the total amount stolen.
Energy Shield - If wearing robes and no light or heavy armor, reduces incoming attack and elemental damage by 35% but you lose Magicka equal to the amount of Health lost. The damage reduction gradually diminishes as Magicka falls below half. The energy shield is disabled when your hands are lowered.
Next was Vancian Magic. Varrus often asked himself, why would he want to lock himself into 20 spells a day when he took a look at this perk. However, those 20 spells cost zero mana to cast! He would be able to make 20 Mana Stone (Master) with double the power (due to the perk) + the 2x increase from dual casting! That was 400,000 mana a stone! He didn''t have a rest feature to reset the 20 spells upon sleep, but so long as he put in the perk point at 100 Alteration, he could bust out 20 Master tier Mana Stone''s, then legendary the skill. After refunding his perks, he could then grind for 2 hours to get 100 Alteration, then rinse and repeat!
Vancian Magic - Cast magic like the wizards of old. Your next 20 spells do not use mana, and are twice as effective. When you run out of spells, your resistances increase by 25%.
Lastly, he may not even need Vancian. Because of Welloc''s Dormant Arcana, he could choose to fortify Alteration while under an armor spell. Meaning he could reduce his Alteration mana cost to zero! He would be able to spam Master Alteration spells! Furthermore, if he did that during Home Mythal, he could basically pump out Mana Stone (Master) limitlessly.
Home Mythal - Summons a permanent magical field at the location where you learn this perk. Alteration spells gain x2 duration if cast within 5000 feet, and x20 duration if cast within 250 feet.
Welloc''s Dormant Arcana - Choose a spell type (Armor, Cloak, Conjure Daedra, Conjure Undead, Invisibility) and 3 magic effects (Fortify, Regenerate, Waterwalking, ...). The chosen magic effects will activate when you are affected by the chosen spell type.
Now that he had seemingly cheesed the system, he wouldn''t have to scrape by when casting Alteration spells. If he did his math right, he could literally summon enough Mana Stones to conjure 999,999,999 mana in a single day.
Not that he would so soon. The longer the High Elf population remained dependent on him, the stronger his position would be.
While Varrus was considering how to best utilize his spell repertoire, the door to his room slammed open.
"Get dresse-" His mother-in-law, Faedra''s mouth opened and began to spit scorn, when she stopped halfway and began to spasm in place as she took in the literal mountain of Mana Stones piled high in the corner of the room.
Without hesitation, she walked past them, uncaring of their nudity, and grasped a stone in her hand.
After crushing one, pure mana coursed into her veins, and she madly began to crush ten more until she was satisfied.
Faedra turned to Varrus. with a calculating look in her eye. She then cast a spell that muffled sound from leaving the room.
Varrus looked on in interest as she cast her spell. He wondered if it was possible to modify his Skyrim spell to encompass a room like this?
"Well done, I am impressed. I apologize for my earlier rudeness my dear boy, but I was rather panicked given our current situation. Oh, and congratulations on consummating your marriage, I''ve always wanted to be a grandmother." Faedra said as if she was some concerned family member who was apologizing for a minor mistake.
Which was weird, because she was a family member, and she had made a mistake.
Not only that, but the rolls had reversed, and now Faedra was seemingly ignoring her daughter, and giving all her attention to him.
Varrus considered calling her out on her blatant bullshitiry, but was hesitant to burn bridges with her.
As much of a bitch as she was, she was still his mother-in-law. Secondly, she did come in clutch with the golems, and literally saved the day, so he could let some bs slide.
Much like other family members he disliked on Earth, so long as she didn''t cross his bottom line, he would humor her.
"Yes, yes, I''m sure you always wanted to be a grandmother. Now enough, why are you so interested in my Mana Stones?"
"Why my dear boy, surely you made so many for a reason? With all these people weak and defenseless due to mana sickness, it is our duty, nay, our honor to rescue them!" Faedra said with a wicked grin.
Varrus paused. He had considered that.
"Think about it. Silver, gold? What use is that shiny mineral when we have pure power in our grasp!" Faedra said in excitement as she began to pace the room. She then paused beside Varrus''s ear, and lowered her voice to the softest whisper. "He who controls the mana controls it all."
"Mother." Syra said one word, and Faedra backed off.
Faedra took a long look at the Mana Stones, then turned to a guard outside the door. "Bring me crates, and lots of them!"
She then gave Varrus and Syra a piercing look.
"A meeting is being held in the ballroom where we are to discuss the next course of action. This gift will go a long way in cementing our already dominant position. Do not waste this opportunity." Faedra''s cultured voice brooked no room for disagreement.
She then dramatically twirled around, however her performance was ruined as her gaze was drawn to the pile of Mana Stone''s being loaded into a container. She seemed to barely contain herself as she balled her hands into fists, then marched away.
''Damn, as vile as she is, Faedra wasn''t wrong.''
If he wanted to build his influence, this was the way.
Sighing to himself, Varrus very deliberately looked down at the floor as Faedra sashayed out of the room.
"Better." Syra said in a sickly sweet voice, and then raked her nails across Varrus''s arm almost to the point of drawing blood.
Varrus scowled at the pain, and wanted to slap her hand away, but held himself back. One day he''d show her who wore the pants in the family, but for now, he still had to rely on her overwhelming strength.
Syra responded with a radiant smile, and a deep kiss on the lips.
''Well, maybe it wasn''t so bad being pantless.'' Varrus thought to himself as he leaned into the kiss, and gently nestled his forehead against hers. An erection sprang forth, and began to eagerly press into her belly as he embraced her.
"Lead on Lord Vandercross." Syra said breathlessly as she pulled away, then slipped her clothes on.
Varrus looked up at the ceiling and let out a repressed groan. "Fuuuuck." Closing his eyes, he sighed, then jumped out of bed. He quickly found himself a handsome crimson robe with black highlights to wear, then walked out of the room.
Arms linked with Syra, Varrus followed behind his mother-in-law toward the ballroom.
They went down many corridors before arriving at a balcony that overlooked the room.
Varrus felt parched as he realized he would be speaking from a position of authority to such a large crowd.
However, a reassuring squeeze from Syra brought him back to reality and he gave her a smile.
Before he walked onto the balcony, he heard soothing, classical music coming from a band of enchanted instruments, and Faedra addressing the crowd down below.
"Their heroism needs no introduction, yet some may not know their names. Their family founded this city with the Convocation of Silvermoon, and they maintain this sacred duty of guarding our people to this day! Introducing Highlord Varrus Vandercross and his wife, Lady Syra Vandercross!" Faedra began to clap, then half turned toward Varrus/Syra, and beckoned them forward.
Varrus stepped onto the balcony, and felt a wave of applause slam into him.
Looking down, Varrus easily counted at least 200 people. Many of them looked familiar, especially the arcane wizard who used magic missiles. They were all dressed in colorful clothes, and held glasses containing some sort of spirit.
If Varrus didn''t know better, he would think he was hosting some New Year''s gala, not planning out their next move of survival!
Leave it to the fucking smug elves to act with high class British decorum during a crisis! Varrus imagined this must''ve been what it was like for the passengers on the Titanic before they realized how fucked they truly were. It would surely be a cold wakeup call once they learned 90% of the Highborn were dead¡
Speaking of which.
"How many people did we save?!" Varrus turned to Faedra and questioned.
"2,872. However, only those who fought the Scourge earned the right to attend." Faedra responded in a critical tone.
Once the applause died down, an awkward silence descended upon Varrus''s shoulders.
During this awkward pause, Faedra stepped forward. "Lord Vandercross has been hard at work, hardly resting overnight for the sake of the people."
"We know, we heard it all night!" Someone in the crowd heckled, and the responding laughter helped ease the tension in the room.
Despite that, Varrus could visibly see how weak and lethargic they had become. If this lasted much longer, they would turn twisted and deformed, and become one of the vile Wretched.
"Yes, they are doing their part to rebuild our glorious race, as did a fair few of you last night." Faedra let the burn sink in before she kept speaking.
"But I speak of another work, one not needed since the Highborn fled Kalimdor, and were bereft of mana until the founding of the Sunwell, I speak of the Vandercross Mana Stone!" Faedra said with great drama, and righteousness, then signaled to a guard down below.
The guard cracked open a box full of blue gems. When piled together, they gave off an effervescent blue aura.
All laughter and mockery within the hall died down as every single mana addict''s attention was drawn to the shiny blue rocks spilled on the floor.
Faedra then nudged Varrus in the side.
"Protectors of Silvermoon, I present to you your just reward! House Vandercross entreats you to partake in the richest feast in Highborn history!" Varrus'' consent to the High Elves was like releasing a hound for the hunt.
The 200+ High Elves rushed the Mana Stones, and began to gorge themselves full.
Several people were pushed, and a few fell down, or were decked in the face.
The previous scene of champagne decorum was blown away in the face of satisfying their urges.
"Savages. Watch and learn so that you may never become like them. That is why we lead, and they follow." Faedra said from the side.
Varrus gave her an amused look as only 15 minutes earlier, she had gone into a frenzy of her own over his stones.
After 10 minutes, the ballroom had settled down, and the people radiated an eagerness greater than any sports fan.
If before, the people looked up at the balcony in interest, and slight hero worship at his wife, Varrus now had a taste of that zeal as they directed their hopeful gazes almost exclusively at him.
It was a heady, intoxicating feeling to be relied upon by so many people. Although, he would need to make bigger Mana Stones, and fast, otherwise he wouldn''t be able to sustain the elven population, and restore the Sunwell.
While most combatants only needed 2 Mana Stones, the arcane mage, and the House Guard needed 4 each. There were about 400 leftover from the original 1,200.
Fortunately he had cracked the code, and could make whatever he needed. Worst case scenario, he handed out larger stones, and had the people do a sort of communal feeding. Or perhaps he could shave off pieces of a larger stone so he didn''t have to spend so much time making smaller denominations.
Varrus was brimming with excitement, and began to discuss his short term plan to the people in the ballroom.
"With everyone''s recovery, we must begin clearing out the city of undead, and searching for survivors. However, let it be known, Mana Stones are for the worthy. Those who slink and cower in fear, in the face of our annihilation are no better than the enemy! I freely give these Mana Stones to you who deserve it! However, I am not a tyrant. I will give those who refuse to fight five days to find their courage, and provide for them the mana they so crave. Five days to learn from true heroes!" Varrus finished by spreading his arms wide.
On que, the House Guard slammed their blades on their shields and chanted the family name.
"Vandercross!"
"Vandercross!"
"Vandercross!"
Varrus smiled, and basked in the applause. The first hit would be free. Once they had a taste, Varrus would be surprised if any of the 2,000+ refugees refused to pick up a spell book, bow, or sword.
It was hard to believe so many people centuries or even thousands of years old didn''t know any offensive magic. Hopefully it was a case of how people on Earth learned a lot in school, but forgot a good portion of it as they didn''t need to know it anymore. Like Varrus still remembered some basics about the periodic table and cell biology, but if he had to bet his life on those memories to save himself from a zombie horde, he''d be fucked. After some refresher studying, the High Elves would hopefully pick up some old spells again.
When the crowd calmed down, Varrus started acting theatrical once more.
"My wife and I will be counting on you brave protectors while we lead from the front. However, let it be known, it is your valiant efforts that will secure our people''s future. For Quel''Thalas, for Silvermoon!"
"For Quel''Thalas, for Silvermoon!" The crowd repeated.
"Thank you, please stick around to discuss with Faedra, my mother-in-law, so that we may better organize ourselves in this rescue effort. We shall set off in one hour!" Varrus passed the ball into Faedra''s court, much to her seeming appreciation, then walked off with Syra to do some more last minute grinding.
[Speech +1]
"The House Guard is recruiting, and pay is 2 additional Mana Stones, space is limited¡" Varrus heard Faedra say as he walked back to his room.
As Varrus walked down the hallway, he felt like there was more to this estate than met the eye, and his memories unconsciously led him to his father''s study.
His necklace briefly flared up, and a magical ward on the door came undone.
Entering the room, Varrus saw bookcases filled with maps, reports, contracts, land deeds, and more centered around a giant oak table.
Ignoring the paperwork, Varrus approached one particular bookcase, and muttered some elvish nursery rhyme.
The bookcase disappeared, and revealed a passage lit by Mana Stones lining the ceiling. Syra still in hand, Varrus confidently entered, and came to another door at the end.
There was an orb on a pedestal at the end of the passage, to which Varrus placed his hand upon, and injected some mana.
The wall besides the door shimmered, and revealed a vault filled with treasures and collectibles.
Things were neat, orderly, and came with a label describing their nature.
There were banners of the Horde, Alliance, and gear matching their soldiers. ''Perfect for staging a false flag operation'' Varrus idly thought.
That was the tip of the iceberg, however, as there was much, much more. 10,000 years of accumulation had filled this vault to the brim.
Backpacks that could hold more than their size suggested hung on the side. A money pile of nothing but gold coins formed a small Scrooge McDuck swimming pool. Magical doodads, and corrupted looking chaosy shit were locked behind translucent cages.
Six Mana Stones the size of a small boulder were stacked against the wall. The size of these stones were similar to the vague picture he saw when he concentrated on the Master tier Mana Stone in the Skyrim UI. From Novice to Master, the stones would gradually increase in size.
Performing a quick 20 second cast, Varrus conjured up a Mana Stone worth 200,000 mana. When it showed up in his inventory, it had a weight of 20, and looked identical to the ones on the ground.
Varrus idly noted that these specific Mana Stones were often used to power Arcane Towers. When he did eventually distribute Master tier Mana Stones, he could use the excuse that they came from the family treasury so as to create the illusion of a controlled economy.
At one section of the facility were wands, staves, and robes. There were a handful of enchanted swords, daggers, and two sets of plate armor.
However, not one bow or set of light armor was in sight. In contrast, there were dozens more robes. It was clear which direction his family ancestors leaned. In fact, if memory served true, there was a bit of a political schism between the Vandercross and the Windrunners-another family on the Convocation who often headed the Rangers.-
However, he was in desperate need of some magical attire, and pushed these messy political thoughts to the side.
Picking out what he wanted was a no brainer due to his inherent trait Mana Sense.
Going to the robe with the strongest magical fluctuation, he unhooked himself from Syra, much to the look of displeasure she directed at him.
Varrus ignored her, and slipped the robe on.
"Ah." Varrus gasped as he felt an overwhelming amount of mana course through him.
He had to turn back, and wave off his wife in reassurance, then eagerly went to check his apparel slot.
[Patriarch''s Robe: +20 intelligence, +10 stamina, +10 spirit, Magic Ward: Slows incoming attacks within 10ft by 25%]
Looking at his health, and stamina, they had all increased by 100, with his -10% debuff, he had a total of 180hp. Whereas his mana was now increased by 200, for a maximum of 450 mana! He could finally cast a Master tier spell from Alteration!!! As for spirit, Varrus cast a few harmless, yet mana expensive spells, and saw his mana bar fill up twice as fast as normal.
Unfortunately there were no magic rings, necklaces, shoes, gloves or spell books to be seen. He would have to check out the library later, and learn spells native to this world. Blink especially came to mind when it came to OP Warcraft spells.
Despite the lack of enchanted jewelry, he still had a staff and a wand to collect.
Varrus then excitedly gripped the most magically inclined staff.
[Power Stick: Increase spell power by 1 (scales off skill level)]
While equipped with the staff, all of his spells had a flat dmg increase based on his skill level! If he could find an enchantment that increased any of his skills above 100, then the Power Stick would really shine.
For example, his basic Novice spells did 10 dmg. But because his Destruction skill was at 20, they now did 30dmg!
That was a lot of damage! His basic Unbound Fire did 10 dmg, and took 2-3 to kill a basic, unarmored zombie. It splashed off an abomination, absolutely useless. This staff could now empower him to one-shot most basic zombies.
In short, this staff was OP!
Varrus then gripped Syra in a bear hug, and planted a wild, wet kiss on her lips in his excitement.
So this is what it felt like to be a prodigal son!
When he went to go try out the wand, his wife pulled him back into her embrace, and refused to let go.
He looked down, and shook his arm signaling for her to let him go, but her smile only widened.
"Of course, I love having my beautiful wife accompanying me!" Varrus made sure to reassure his stab happy wife with a wide smile, and a squeeze on her hand.
Her grip slightly tightened, and Varrus knew he had dodged a bullet.
Walking toward the wands-Syra in tow-Varrus picked one up, and was happy with its effects.
[Wand of Incadescence: Releases a bolt of lightning for 100 dmg. Charge: 500/50,000 (5 uses)]
This lightning bolt was equivalent to some adept or expert level spells. Varrus fancied it could threaten an abomination or would especially be useful against flying units.
Varrus tried to refill it with a Mana Stone, and it seemed to work! He didn''t need to get a Soul Stone to recharge his weapon.
Satisfied with his haul, Varrus grabbed himself an enchanted sword and daggers then took another look at the gear before leaving.
He then took a handful of interesting objects, and placed then within the Deep Storage spell. An Alteration pocket space spell that contained an infinite pocket space.
One day, he hoped to disenchant everything that wasn''t of much use to him, and make even stronger equipment.
Before he left, Varrus snagged a pair of arm guards as an afterthought that he caught Syra looking at, and wordlessly presented them to her.
"So attendant to my needs. My handsome husband knows me well." Syra happily chirped as she equipped the new gear.
Varrus sweated down the back of his spine, and maintained his silence before returning to his room. He had about half an hour remaining, he might as well make some Master tier Mana Stones.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
After he finished his grinding session, Varrus stored most of the stones in his Deep Storage, and held onto some in his inventory so he could top off his mana at any time.
"It''s been an hour, Lord Vandercross." A House Guard said as he knocked on the door.
"Thank you, please come in."
Varrus called out to the pair of House Guards, and had them smash a boulder sized Mana Stone into smaller shards, and place the remains in a crate.
"Distribute this to the people outside." Varrus instructed.
"It will be done." A guard nodded, then took the crate out with his fellow.
Before he went out, Varrus tried placing his staff on his back, like characters in the games, and he felt a small magnetic attraction between his robe and staff.
''That actually worked!?'' Varrus thought to himself in surprise.
Shaking off his shock, Varrus turned to Syra, and held out his hand.
"Let''s go."
Walking hand in hand with his wife, Varrus exited the palace for the first time since waking up in this world.
The square stank of burnt flesh, and a fire still burned as countless bodies were being tossed onto a pyre by a pair of golems.
At the other side of the square, a line had formed, and the lethargic civilian population were regaining their energy as they consumed Varrus'' gift.
Some couldn''t get over their depression, and rocked on the ground, lost in the horrors of PTSD.
On the other hand, a few hundred Highborn were hard at work practicing with a weapon, or muttering to themselves as they studied spell matrices.
As he entered the far end of the square, he spotted a contingent of roughly 50-100 warriors, rangers, paladins, priests and mages. Alongside them were another 300 refugees.
One of the House Guard was among them, and he waved Varrus over.
"Guardsman, this is the group that will help in the search for survivors?" Varrus said while directing a suspicious glance at the 300 refugees.
"When word of your terms reached the refugees, some despaired, others stepped forward." The guard replied.
Varrus merely raised an eyebrow in skepticism.
"You need not worry Lord Vandercross. I vetted them myself. Many were too traumatized last night, and were unable to remember the words to a spell, or couldn''t find a weapon to fight with. After my tests, I confirmed that they are eligible for combat." The guard said.
"Hmm, good work. Take this as your reward." Varrus nodded at the guard, then handed over a few small Mana Stones.
The guard gave a shallow bow, then stood beside Varrus, and turned to address the crowd.
"Alright, listen up! Highlord Vandercross is the sole heir to his father, and thus has assumed the mantle of a member of the Convocation of Silvermoon! Young he may be, but the Vandercross family have proven themselves reliable in these dark times! Follow his and Lady Vandercross'' lead, and we shall prevail!" The guard shouted, then stepped back behind Varrus.
Varrus nodded appreciatively at the man. He would have to make it an effort to know his name.
However, not all was peaches and sunshine.
The assembled Highborn all looked on quietly. Varrus felt their silent ridicule, as their years of long life implicitly carried the weight of judgment. Most of them didn''t watch him fight, as they were too busy with their own struggles and gossip about the young Vandercross heir before the invasion painted him as a worthless prodigal.
The only thing he had going for him was that he fed their addiction. That, and the walking WMD he held in his palm right now.
In fact, Varrus saw several Highborn look like they were going to step forward and say something, but settled for a look of arrogance or disregard instead.
"To incentivise everyone present beyond the love for our country, and revenge for our kin, I am proposing a bounty! One Mana Stone for every five undead scalps! Five Mana Stone''s for every Highborn corpse recovered and given a proper cremation here at the Vandercross Estate!" Varrus shouted at the assembled army.
He couldn''t help but grin as any would-be naysayers dropped their acts of disdain, and began to show looks of interest.
Smug pricks.
Varrus bet a good portion of the 300 refugees could''ve fought during the battle last night, but had calculated on the situation, and decided upon a wait and see approach.
Here he was, trying to mobilize a force to free the city, and he was forced to play politics. A Highborn was the type to convince you his house was on fire, get your help to put it out, then place the blame at your head. While you rotted in prison, he would collect the insurance, and be banging your wife.
This of course was a gross exaggeration, but not too far off the mark. With their near limitless lives: gossip, drama, and politics were the center of Highborn society.
Hell, in Varrus'' impression, half the soldiers of Quel''Thalas must be cosplaying or roleplaying the role for prestige or because they were bored, given how ineffective they were against Arthas.
Seeing that he had everyone''s undivided attention, Varrus organized them into a formation. They were slow to move, and reluctant to follow his orders, but eventually got into position.
He placed the rangers on the wings to act as skirmishers. The center was a chevron with warriors and paladins at the front. He had then briefly practiced so that they could break ranks to leave an opening, and allow the mages to unleash a spell, then retreat behind/to the sides of the melee specialists. It was basic Conquistador musket tactics, but it would have to do. Finally, the priests would be with the mages, ready to heal anyone at a moment''s notice.
At the tip of the chevron, Varrus led with his wife. He figured the safest place in any conflict would be by her side. While the tip would see the most action, it would also be the best place for him to unleash his power.
Before heading out, Varrus consulted a map. They were located near the city wall on the western side of Silvermoon, far from the Dead Scar of necrotic energies splitting the two halves of Silvermoon in half.
Most buildings were apartments, or palaces. In contrast, the eastern city held most of the shops, and government buildings. The western zone was primarily a vast park, rife with trees, gardens, farms, and shrubbery.
It was no wonder that of the 100,000+ undead that stormed the city, they only fought a thousand or two in their little corner.
Determined to sweep the area block by block, they finally left the square. When they did, Varrus grimly took in the heavily damaged cityscape.
Fire still burned buildings, and many sustained heavy scorch marks or had collapsed entirely.
Undead mindlessly roamed the streets, and there were seldom few inanimate corpses lying on the ground.
Internally, Varrus worried that most bodies had been stolen by Arthas to be raised into undeath, and taken on his next campaign.
While that was good news since it meant Silvermoon wouldn''t have a million undead populating it, that just meant those undead would be a headache for another time.
While Varrus was feeling heavy hearted at the destruction, a reassuring squeeze on his hand brought him back to reality.
Facing his wife''s radiant smile, Varrus couldn''t remain depressed any longer.
Matching her smile, Varrus positioned his force at the end of a street. He then took the lead, and began attacking the mindless undead.
As soon as he entered combat, Ocato''s Recital activated automatically, and an Ebony Flesh coated him instantly. He was also ethereal until he cast a spell or attacked.
He, along with the rangers and spellcasters began to unleash bolts of magic into any stray zombie or skeleton.
Their disorganized retaliatory charge made them easy pickings, and a hundred of them fell before they could make it to the Highborn line.
Some of the mages who sat out the fight last night were obviously trying to show off. About 20 mages stood out from the rest, and cast spells different from the average tennis sized fireball.
One dropped a rain of fireballs in an AOE the size of a sedan. His rain of fire decimated two dozen undead.
Another conjured up three water elementals, and sent them into the horde as suicide bombers.
Arcane explosions, and frosty howls rocked the street.
All the while, this group directed smug looks Varrus'' way as he was busy leveling his Novice Destruction since he was so close to Apprentice.
With the increased spell power of his staff, every fireball of Unbound Fire would one shot these weak zombies, then the flames would spread to any enemy within 5ft of the slain foe.
The sound of battle drew the attention of even more, and soon a swarm of nearly a thousand undead came charging around the street corner, and emptying out of buildings.
As more and more undead began to mass, they came closer and closer to their line, and the mages/rangers were unable to stop all of them. This was because, despite their destructive power, the Highborn were slinging spells like they still had the Sunwell, and had been careless when managing their mana.
If they had staggered their attacks, and waited for regeneration in between, then the Highborn could''ve formed a constant rate of fire similar to a musket rotation. Instead, they blew their load early like a nervous man on his first date.
Syra reluctantly squeezed Varrus'' hand, and was about to unsheath her buster sword to meet the rapidly closing enemy, when Varrus held her back.
"Trust me." Varrus smiled at her.
Syra looked longingly into his eyes, then matched his smile.
"I believe in my Lord."
Varrus felt lighter as Syra placed some sort of buff on him.
"Watch me." Varrus pecked Syra on the cheek, then turned his attention to the enemy.
Varrus then cast three spells in quick succession.
Tumble Magnet: Magnetic artifact that exists for 20 seconds, randomly pulling nearby enemies to the center.
Talons of Nirn: Whenever an enemy in the area is staggered, a spike of rock erupts from the ground, tossing the target and dealing 150 Stamina damage. Lasts 60 seconds.
Thrumming Stone: Magical vibrating rock that emits a tremor every 8 seconds, staggering enemies and reducing magic resistance by 40% for 2 seconds. Emits 5 pulses.
The oncoming horde of zombies were forced into this narrow street to charge at them, and were densely packed together.
When Varrus''s spells entered the crowd, the zombies began to trip and fall over one another due to the Thrumming Stone.
When this happened, a jagged stone spear thick as an elephant''s leg would erupt from the earth, and gore them from their backside out of their head.
Meanwhile, the Tumble Magnet pulled the zombies away from the line, slowing them en masse. They were then easy pickings for the mages and rangers.
Basic fireballs and magic arrows finally began to reemerge as the mages regained a bit of mana, and sprayed into the undead tide.
It was an absolute massacre.
After ten minutes, there were no more undead responding to the sound of their battle.
The smug looking pricks were noticeably quiet on this one!
Varrus made sure to make eye contact with several of them until they embarrassedly turned away. Some snorted, some huffed, one rolled her eyes, and a few even nodded in respect.
Progress!
However, seeing the state of lethargy his damage dealers were in, Varrus wouldn''t leave them hanging while he was out in the field. There may be some assholes amongst his army, but at least they knew how to kill.
Varrus then opened his Deep Storage, and distributed some Mana Stones to the mages and rangers.
"Good work everyone. We''ll set up some barricades here at the end of the street to act as a fallback point, and let the rangers search building by building for any survivors. If they find any, they can be escorted back to my estate. Once this street is all clear, we''ll move on to the next block and repeat." Varrus gave the command, and the rangers moved more enthusiastically than when he first set out.
Varrus took this moment of free time to bask in the warmth of the sun, and enjoy his wife''s embrace as he watched the army of irregulars construct a crude barricade.
He took in the ruined street, the burning corpses, and the once grand architecture.
Firming his brow, complex emotions assaulted his heart.
If he really was going to have twelve children with Syra, then he would make sure something like this never happened again.
Arthas just went to the top of his shit list.
"My man is big and strong, isn''t he?" Syra said, and Varrus was about to preen at the compliment, when his wife''s tone took a complete 180. "I see the way those women look at you, how dare you." Syra silently seethed.
''What women??? What does them looking at me have to do with us???'' Question marks hovered over Varrus'' head.
He very deliberately did not look around, and made sure to meet Syra''s burning gaze.
"The only woman I see is you." Varrus butted his forehead onto hers, then raised her chin for a kiss on the lips.
"You better." Syra said as she embraced him.
He then heard several footsteps shuffle away in the direction Syra was looking.
''Nope! Don''t know, don''t care!'' Varrus repeated to himself as an internal mantra as he gave his wife all his loving attention.
He was too young to die!
Chapter 3
Today was the fifth day since he had woken up in this world. It was a sunny, mild day clear of rain. If it weren''t for the smoldering buildings and stench of undeath, Varrus might even say it was a nice day.
They had just cleared a street, and the rangers were clearing buildings while Varrus watched. Only a group of 45 High Elves were saved. It was a surreal feeling considering this street of apartments could house thousands.
Using the map feature, Varrus went about his business systematically, and had purged countless streets like the one he was on today. It wouldn''t be long before he reached the very north western tip, encountering Falcon Wing Square, and Sunstrider Isle. They were the only two places on the western side of Silvermoon to hold out against the Scourge. He wondered what the other survivors reactions would be to discovering another pocket of resistance.
Shaking his head, Varrus put those thoughts to the back of his mind, and resumed his watch over the refugees.
His eyes glowed with the spell Detect Undead while he watched them be led away toward his estate. After one group had been held hostage by an intelligent Undead attempting to assassinate him, Varrus checked every group, street, and building before getting close.
There were a few close encounters over the last few days that had Varrus feeling antsy. He had a nasty feeling that someone with intelligence and the authority to control the Undead was plotting against him.
Varrus had to take every precaution available to him. He only had one life afterall.
Seeing that they were all clear, Varrus dropped the spell, and took a good look at the refugees.
Their forms were dirty, and covered in grime. Worse still, the mana sickness had begun to set in, and their once bright orange-like skin was beginning to slightly pale, and turn a sallow yellow.
If they went to much longer without a stable source of mana, they would begin to turn gray-green, become hunched, and lose their sanity. They would become the deformed Elves known as the Wretched.
The group of refugees were silent as the grave. One or two fell to the floor crying in relief, but the majority of them had dead looks in their eye. Considering the Undead acted on stereotypical zombie rules, Varrus could only imagine how these people had survived the past couple of days. Because if you made even a sound, or exposed your scent to the air, then the Undead would soon pounce upon your flesh. It was a dire thought indeed.
Varrus shook his head in pity when he saw an Elven child trailingly cling to an adult''s robe from behind. Their face was covered in dirt, and eyes blank from the horrors of war. It made Varrus sick in the stomach to see a child robbed of their innocence like that. It was one thing to watch something on his phone, it was an entirely different sensation to witness it in real life.
Of the few thousand people they had rescued in the last five days, this was the eighth child he had come across. Their mortality rate was a grim reminder over the Highborn''s lack of fertility and cripplingly low numbers.
So far they had saved little over 7,000 people, but Varrus didn''t hold out hope for many more. Just like on Earth after a natural disaster, mine collapse, or other catastrophe, the first five days were crucial for finding survivors.
Anyone who survived, hidden in a cellar or hidden compartment would be in the throes of mana addiction. Sure they would survive for some time before they completely devolved, but Varrus would hardly call that living.
Canonically, the western half of Silvermoon was home to countless Wretched. Varrus speculated that this group of High Elves must''ve hidden themselves too well to survive the Scourge. And by the time Kael''Thas sent back the ability to mana siphon Fel energy, it was too late for them. Their transformation seemingly irreversible, the entire western half of Silvermoon became home to magical crack addicts, and roaming Undead.
Hopefully this time around, Varrus would be able to reduce the Highborn''s loss due to his Mana Stones, and general rescue effort.
Speaking of rescue, Varrus couldn''t help but sigh once more in pity at the child. Adult High Elves were only interested in politics, drama, and showing off. The children were still innocent, and he wished he could''ve preserved their innocence.
Varrus summoned his Deep Storage, then deposited some Mana Stones to the survivors. He showed a small smile when he saw the girl begin to almost immediately regain her vibrant glow.
Syra silently stood beside him, then stepped forward and offered a lollipop to the child.
The little girl shied away and hid behind her caretaker.
Varrus smiled at his wife''s back as she crouched to be eye level with the girl, and stuck the lollipop in her own mouth, and hummed "tasty~ if only there was someone I could share with?"
Syra tilted her head in faux pondering as another lollipop appeared in her hand.
Hesitant at first, the little girl eventually gripped the lollipop, and giggled as she gave it a lick.
"Thank you for saving us. With you here, it''s finally over." The caretaker sighed in relief.
Varrus felt his mouth go dry as he saw the hope in the woman across from him, and silently nodded his head in acknowledgement before waving her on. He would let the rangers break the sad news to her. The Scourge may eventually be purged from the city, but things were far from over. In fact, given the countless dungeons and raids that Varrus was aware of. The sacking of Silvermoon was merely a prelude for the clusterfuck awaiting Azeroth.
In fact, as it stood now, Silvermoon was practically a wasteland. Half or more of the buildings were ruined beyond repair, and Undead milled about on every street corner. Everyone knew someone who was murdered. Some committed suicide, others became depressed, and at least half of the survivors he had met wanted vengeance.
Varrus was hopeful that his new people would take up arms alongside him, and he could only try to inspire them to do better. Their race faced an existential crisis unseen since the destruction of the Well of Eternity. They had better get their shit together, and fast, otherwise they''d become the lackys of either the Alliance, or the Horde.
Fortunatley, many people had started slaying the Undead-with and without him-yet 5,000+ of the 7,000+ refugees refused to leave his estate to fight.
His ultimatum was going to go into effect soon, and Varrus wondered how many would sit on their hands and call his bluff. He however, wasn''t playing any games.
What''s that, you spent the last thousand years selling and making cheese? Want a cookie? No, if they wanted a Mana Stone, they either fought, joined House Vandercross, or possessed useful auxiliary skills such as smithing/enchanting/alchemy, etc.
As for the army he was building, they were slowly getting the hang of it.
Those that followed him into the field mostly only knew a single spell, or could wield a weapon with passing familiarity. But the way an Elf amateur wielded a weapon was worlds apart from an amateur Human. It was no wonder High Elves were so smug when their reflexes, balance, and depth perception were naturally on par with a Human olympian.
Moreover, after a few nights of studying, some of the original 100+ citizen mages he brought with him could cast Slow, Blink, or even throw a slightly bigger/more frequent fireballs as their mana pools increased from the frequent spell casting.
The knowledge they had forgotten long ago was slowly coming back to them. Like a man going back to college in his 40''s, it was a pain in the ass, but the information didn''t disappear. The periodic table would always have the noble gasses, and a cell would always be powered by the mitochondria. These old heads just needed a refresher.
Of course, not everyone wanted to follow an Elf younger than a century. Even if the name Vandercross did grant him some prestige, some people only trusted in the age-old adage age = experience + wisdom. Varrus only needed to look at Earth''s political elite to raise an eyebrow at that one, but wasn''t about to throw a hissy fit at them when they split off to clear Silvermoon in their own small groups.
Others were exploring for loot, as Varrus had added an additional bounty. He would offer Mana Stones for ore, metal, enchanted equipment, gems, weapon/armor schematics, herbs, and most importantly, spell books.
Among the loot, Varrus made special attention towards seizing as many magic wands as he possibly could along the way.
The little death sticks were as intuitive to Highborn as a gun is to a man.
Most generic magic wands packed about as much oomph as a musket, and could be shot about every 2.0-4.5 seconds depending on the wand. Unlike WoW where gear ran on durability, wands actually had a preset limit, and were not much different from an enchanted weapon in Skyrim. With a carrying capacity of about 50-100 shots before requiring recharge, wands were an effective tool for mages/priests while they recharged their mana.
Not only was Varrus taking everything he could get his grubby hands on, but he was also focusing on recruiting talented personnel. 330+ of the survivors he had rescued had pledged themselves to House Vandercross in a variety of roles. A good proportion of them were signed on as House Guards, and were being trained by the veterans, or followed him into the field.
Many others served auxiliary functions. For example, he hired a dozen Elves skilled in agricultural spells. It was easy now to force everyone into a war time economy, but he had to think about the future. Every arm chair tactician knew that logistics won wars, and food was the key ingredient to any conventional war. Varrus'' thinking was that since the majority of the western city was a giant park untainted by the Scourge, it would make for an excellent mega farm. Additionally, food was a valuable bargaining chip in these tough times. If he wanted to sway the humans in the Plaguelands to the Elven banner, then meeting their basic need of untainted food would make many inroads.
Outside of logistical support, Varrus had recruited a rather sizable force from these motly survivors. His army was a group of 712 High Born. Whether they joined out of political affiliation, cultural loyalty, for extra mana stones, or desperation, Varrus didn''t care. A soldier was a soldier. One more body against the enemy was a welcome ally in his book.
His army was a loose coalition that-for the most part-reluctantly followed his lead. Only a core of about 100 or so had turned into true believers, and would follow his orders without question. It honestly surprised him that such prideful and arrogant people could follow someone centuries younger than them considering how rife Highborn culture was with demeaning the youth. It was the equivalent of the Greeks following a 14 year old Alexander into war. Varrus knew that if some kid tried to lead him into a firefight on Earth, he''d laugh and walk away. What idiot would follow a kid into battle?
Yet desperate times called for desperate measures. Besides, Varrus had a lot going for him.
The powerful allure of Mana Stones, the family name, and safety in numbers were a large part of the equation as to why they followed him.
Victory however, was the glue that bound them together.
The smug elves in the army wouldn''t admit it out loud, but the few looks of grudging respect when Varrus slung out a near endless torrent of spells said it all.
To keep up the showmanship, Varrus would act like he had near endless mana by consuming Mana Stones in his inventory whenever he ran low on MP.
Only after a long and drawn out fight would he openly absorb a Mana Stone. His actions implicitly showed all those who chose to follow him that yes, his mana pool was larger than theirs, and yes, he was a genius mage.
Because if there was anything that would move a smug elf to disregard age as a factor, it was BIG MAGIC.
Of course it helped that Varrus squeezed in extra Mana Stones for all those who followed him. Bribery was a valid strat, and it helped level up his Speech skill. Lesson number two of arm chair tactitionary: ALWAYS pay your men well, and pay them on time.
Varrus spammed so many spells, and spent Mana Stones generously so much, that even the stuffiest of elders could only sigh begrudgingly at his performance.
In these five days, he focused on three skill trees in particular:
Conjuration: 62
Restoration: 98
Destruction: 53
And he also reached level 72 after repeatedly resetting his Alteration by going legendary.
His base stats were:
Mana: 600
Health: 388 (initially 420, but reduced -10%)
Stamina: 100
While training, he had finally gotten a brief moment of alone time from his wife, and tested the health stat by slashing himself on the palm with an iron dagger. He didn''t lose any hp, because the knife couldn''t pierce his skin. Varrus'' hp, it seemed, increased his level of toughness. Varrus could only assume a powerful enough attack to the neck would decapitate him. Because based on his test, he wasn''t like other gamers who lost hp without any signs of physical damage.
During his training, Varrus also picked up a few spells thanks to his ''book eating ability.'' His favorites so far were Blink and Soul Stone.
Blink was a short range teleportation spell under the Alteration tree. When he learned it, it came with a Novice to Master tier version of the spell. It seemed that every native spell to Warcraft he learned would do that.
Whereas the Soul Stone spell essentially created empty Black Soul Gems, and were filled whenever he slew someone under the effects of Soul Trap. Of course the new spell Soul Cloak was better, and would collect the souls of all slain so long as he had the spell hovering about his shoulders. It was much more efficient than individually casting Soul Trap every time. Needless to say, his Deep Storage had dozens of Petty Soul Gems from the zombies/ghouls, and a handful of Lesser Soul Gems from the abominations.
Varrus also put in time to experiment with his Skyrim spells to see what had stayed the same, and what had been left behind/changed from the game-like qualities.
This was a real and breathing world after all. Just because he had the Skyrim UI, didn''t mean it was 1 to 1. For example, when he swung a weapon, it wasn''t in the exact same pattern as the game character. He chose where and at what angle the weapon would strike. He could thrust the weapon forward, and wasn''t locked into any one method of attack. Likewise, there was some wiggle room in the control of magic. Basic self cast spells didn''t require Varrus to raise his hand up like he was asking a question in class. He could move his hands in any direction to cast the spell.
One of the big changes in the UI was the skill tree of Conjuration.
To level Conjuration initially, Varrus threw out his ghostly wolf with Conjure Familiar countless times. It was a boring, basic, standard approach, but it got the job done. When he leveled up to Apprentice, he would summon the fire elemental, Flame Atronarch. That''s where some interesting developments occurred.
See in this world, there was no Oblivion for daedra to be called upon. The summoned beings came from a different place.
The atronachs for example, had become an elemental summoned from the elemental plane. And unlike in Skyrim, summoned creatures, like the summons of a Warlock such as imps or voidwalkers lasted until they were destroyed, or had their mana exhausted.
Similarly, the restriction on time and number of active summons had changed. In its place was a mana value signifying how much "charge" the summon had before it dissipated, as well as if it was bound or unbound.
Theoretically, Varrus could summon a never ending wave of Flame Atronachs. However, in the Warcraft universe, and Skyrim for that matter, there were bound, and unbound summons.
For every 200 base mana, he could conjure a bound summon.
The Flame Atronarch for example had enough mana to cast roughly 22 fireballs. After it spent its load, it would dissipate, or explode in a fiery torrent. However, so long as it didn''t cast magic, the elemental would hangout pretty much indefinitely.
He also noticed that the amount of fireballs would increase as his skill level increased. For example, when he unequipped the Power Stick, his spell power bonus disappeared, and as a result, the amount of fireballs decreased as well.
Besides this change in Conjuration, Varrus was busy experimenting with the Destruction tree.
One fun fact is that a zombie will become frozen solid the same as any mortal would. Electricity however was almost next to useless aginst the Undead at Varrus'' level. The arcs of plasma made their lifeless magically empowered bodies spasm and contort. Eventually their flesh would be burnt off, but at that point, why use electricity against the Undead at all? In the end, nothing beat a good''ol fire ball, or beam of restoration magic.
Magic in Skyrim wasn''t actually all that strong when compared to the stealth archer build. However, magic had extreme AOE capabilities, and unlike an arrow, magic in the real world blew up buildings, and could even destroy entire cities.
Now with the enchanted equipment to boost spell power, magic was incredibly powerful. Maybe there would come a day when he visited the stealth archer build, but at this point in time, it seemed highly impractical.
While he had a lot of fun exploring magic, his time spent in Warcraft wasn''t all sunshine and rainbows. Grinding levels, studying magic, and trying to garner support amongst the drama loving smug elves was kids stuff compared to the reality of their situation.
The Scourging of Silvermoon was a serious event in which 90% of all High Elves died. Again, 90%. For someone who once lived in a large country, he couldn''t even fathom losing such a sum.
Like, imagine walking down the streets of Beijing, London, NYC, Tokyo, etc, and only seeing 9-20 people after going for a mile or two¡that''s how sparse it was.
With such a huge loss, there was bound to be tragedy. The things he had seen in this short span of days were sickening.
In these five days, Varrus had experienced first hand terrible sights of ghouls feasting upon the corpses of children. Heard the horrified screams of a family eaten alive before they could reach them. Witnessed an Elf cannibalize his family in an effort to boost his magic. He was even forced to destroy a zombified child.
One necromancer even begged for mercy! Claiming he was forced into the Cult of the Damned against his will. Ha! Mercy?! He knew what the cult had done. Selling their souls for immortality, they perpetuated damnation for all they raised.
Every zombie, ghoul and Undead had a spirit trapped in torturous torment within that shell of a corpse. All enslaved to the bidding of the Lich King and his Dreadlord masters.
He was fresh out of mercy.
Varrus had never been so saddened, so¡angry in his entire life!
He wanted to pick something up, and throw it against a wall. So that''s what he did.
Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.
It was with this fire in his heart that he took his anger out on the filthy vermin polluting this once shining city.
Street by street, block by block, Varrus purified the land by smiting one tainted corpse at a time.
With 0 mana cost on Alteration spells, Varrus spammed Telekinesis. He would pick zombies up, and splatter them into walls, the ground and each other. Their disgusting black brackish fluids and brain matter sickened Varrus to no end, but the sound of their cracking bones was music to his ears. Against an enemy like this, victory mattered more than any moral code or idea of Geneva conventions.
Anything smaller than a giant from Skyrim-whether it be an inanimate object or snarling zombie-it could be lifted off the ground. He speculated that if he had more spell power, he could lift even bigger/heavier objects.
But for now, rocks, rubble, weapons, anything and everything became his projectile. It wasn''t a God tier ability, as he did have to point at a thing or object to cast the spell. It also had the major downside of being single target. Otherwise, Varrus would be able to cast ''fuck everything in that general direction'' and use it like a Super Fus Roh Dah.
However, there was nothing more satisfying than finger flicking a gargoyle down to the ground, or yeeting a zombie back so hard, it crashed through several of its fellows.
When he did come across any hulking monstrosities, he would burn them with the spells from the Restoration tree.
He especially capitalized on the perk, Hallowed Burial (2) - Your attacks and Restoration spells and effects are 20/30% more powerful against undead enemies.
The Restoration tree was rife with anti-Undead spells/abilities. While Varrus had a natural inclination toward Destruction, he would be a fool if he didn''t capitalize on this natural weakness.
And one spell in particular, Sunblast was his bread and butter. It was a concentration spell that dealt 15 damage per second in a beam of pure concentrated energy at (base cost: 19 mana/second).
The ray of light would completely turn an Undead into ashes after he destroyed their heads or damaged them enough. But the smell of sizzling necrotic meat was something Varrus wished he had never encountered.
Varrus thought he would vomit the first time he killed an abomination with this spell. The damned monsters were 8-12ft of thick flesh filled with a bloated belly of plague gasses. The rancid smell, the bubbling flesh, it was the stuff of nightmares. However, all he felt when facing the Undead was a cold rage.
The dead eyes of that zombified child he was forced to put down was a punch to the gut. One day, he would have a child who looked similar. Imagining his child trapped in the tormented shell of a mind controlled corpse had him forget any regret.
In fact, he came to become numb to the awful stench. It even made him crack a smile knowing one less threat was gone for good.
The only thing keeping him relatively sane in this hellscape was his wife.
She was so observant of him. Always watching over his back for danger. Grabbing him a drink when he just realized he was thirsty. Syra would hug him when he felt down after any particularly harrowing or gruesome scenes. Always listening to his worries and concerns.
Even now, her kindness to the children was a breath of fresh air.
While most High Elves seemed selfish to Varrus, focused on fulfilling revenge, political maneuvering, or chasing Mana Stones, Syra seemed like the only one who was alive.
She even caught a flower the other day, and showed it to him before pressing it into her diary.
Of course the fact that they passionately made love every night wasn''t harming anything. Varrus thought to himself with a smirk.
That''s how he would spend his days in this new world. 8-15hrs of cleaning up/exploring the city, collecting interesting loot for his Deep Storage, and rescuing refugees.
Then he would return home, and check in with the veteran House Guard for updates, especially on the activities of his mother-in-law. Show his face for half an hour to distribute Mana Stones, then return to his room for a meal + romance with his wife, utterly exhausted. He would then close his eyes for a second, then snap them open a minute later. He wasn''t in a position that afforded sleep.
He couldn''t rest early because he had to grind more Mana Stones to power level, and stockpile his inventory/Deep Storage for a rainy day. During all this, Syra would constantly talk to him, rub his shoulders, or do training of her own. She was a professional through and through. Varrus sometimes would take a break from his mind numbing Mana Stone grind, just to watch her perform some amazing feats of yoga or acrobatics. Needless to say, small, intermittent moments of love making or romantic kisses paired with grinding their bodies into one another would occur during her semi-erotic stretches.
Then, once the early hours of the day approached, he would finally allow himself to fall into his wife''s sweet embrace. Sure, he probably didn''t need to eat or sleep given his Skyrim UI, but sleep was a necessary component to rejuvenate his tired mind.
In all this chaos, the pressures of leadership, and living on the edge of death day by day, his wife rarely left his side. She was the light keeping his sanity alive, and she always supported him in whatever direction he wanted to go. When he asked her what her dreams were, if she had any input on how he should run things, what did she say?
She said ''I love you.'' and left it at that.
Someone so strong, beautiful and supportive¡Varrus was seriously beginning to fall for this blonde murder machine.
Unable to help himself, Varrus embraced his wife from behind, and breathed in her hair. He didn''t care if he was in front of these refugees, or a bunch of old people who would criticize him for a public display of affection. When he was with her, she was all that mattered. So what if she was crazy? She was his crazy. He was her man, and she was his woman. She was his rock in this mad mad world.
Predictably this moment of blissful peace was not to last long.
"Ambush!" Someone shouted, and Varrus witnessed an Undead rogue decloak from stealth, and stab an Elf dead. The Undead then threw down a smoke bomb, and disappeared in the cloud.
All around the street, Undead began to swarm in from a distance outside of Varrus''s Detect Undead''s range.
A pack of 13 Gargoyles swooped low, and managed to sink their claws into a group of refugees, lifting them into the air, then letting them drop to their demise.
Acting in a hurry, Varrus cast Drop Zone wherever he saw an Elf about to fall.
When the Gargoyles came back for a second pass, Varrus used his Telekinesis spell on one gargoyle after another, and slammed them into the ground with such ferocity, their bones twisted, and they moved no more.
"To me! To me, House Vadercross!" Varrus cried out as he saw Undead rush in from the far end of the street and their sides.
Fortunately, they had set up bulwarks at the end of every street with a raised platform so the mages and rangers could throw spells from an elevated position. It acted as the fallback point for anyone still on the street or in the buildings.
The same Undead rogue kept appearing and disappearing, successfully sowing discord amongst their ranks in all the chaos as he killed three more.
As soon as he gathered the army, Varrus began to scan his surroundings with Detect Undead for the rogue.
''There!'' Varrus reacted immediately as he saw an incorporeal aura, and blasted the spot with an AOE spell.
Only the rogue had managed to dodge, and retreated out of his spell''s range.
"Tch." Varrus clucked his tongue in anger, but he had bigger fish to fry.
If his Undead Sight was correct, they were surrounded, and not by a small force. There were easily thousands, possibly over 10,000 Undead swarming in on their position.
"Form ranks, form ranks! A large army approaches!" Varrus raised his voice in warning.
Every time he shouted, Speech perk effects such as Thu''um of War were triggered - Your shouts stagger nearby enemies within 25 feet, reducing armor rating by 300 points for 10 seconds and knocking enemies below 25% Health to the ground.
He was no dragonborn, so he had to get creative with how he interacted with the Skyrim Ui.
At the front of his line, three hulking Frost Atronarchs stood at the vanguard alongside his wife.
The child amongst refugees began to cry loudly as a seemingly never ending tide of undeath emerged from every back alley and side street.
Seeing the danger presented to him, Varrus opened the Deep Storage, and began handing out Mana Stones like Halloween candy. Now was not the time to be stingy.
The Undead suddenly stopped just outside the range of the Elven bows. Their limbs creaked and cracked within the eerie silence.
Emerging from within their ranks was an Undead High Elf, one that Varrus recognized.
"Greetings pup of the Vandercross, I am Dar''Khan Drathir, King of Silvermoon! Your valiant efforts have caught the eye of the king. I am impressed boy! Lay down your arms, and I promise you a seat by my side as one of my chief lieutenants!" The man said with a degree of arrogance Varrus had never seen before.
"Follow you? The Elf who was such a failure, he was passed up for the seat of Grand Magister not once, not twice, but seven times? I think not, traitor. Your jealous incompetence saw you betray your people, and deform yourself out of prideful arrogance! Had Ranger-General Lor''Themar not told you the location of our hidden runestones, the shield covering Silvermoon would yet stand.
Let your tale of cowardice be a lesson to all Highborn. Let all who witness your foul form see the price of treachery." Varrus adopted a righteous demeanor, and explicitly informed those within his army that the object of their revenge was right in front of them.
Several Elves nearby had to be held back from blindly charging in once they realized that the Elf responsible for their downfall was standing at just the other end of the street.
"You will regret those words boy. I will enjoy tormenting you for an eternity!" Dar''Khan finished his statement by throwing out a powerful spell directly at him.
A beam of concentrated necrotic-green energy blasted forth.
Varrus slammed up a two handed Greater Ward, catching the attack head on.
The force was so powerful, and so great, Varrus was rocked back, and felt his mana rapidly deplete as he did everything in his power to maintain the shield.
Fortunately he had focused so much on the Restoration tree. Because he had the perk Bastion Ward: Wards reduce incoming attack damage by 40%.
He also had Vigilant: The first ward you cast in combat costs no Magicka to maintain.
And even then, Dar''Khan''s attack was mightily powerful. He wasn''t an archmage considered for the role of Grand Magister for nothing.
Dar''Khan''s spell was some sort of signal, as the Undead horde began to March forth. The only saving grace was that their bulwark was sandwiched between two giant rubble piles.
However, the Undead army was working to tear down the rubble, and encircle them.
Varrus didn''t have time to worry about commanding the army as he was in a magical duel to the death.
Blinking to the roof of a nearby apartment, Varrus tried catching Dar''Khan in a telekinetic grip, but the damned High Elf Undead also Blinked to dodge.
The two mages threw out spell after spell at one another, but couldn''t seem to land a hit.
Varrus exploded the ground with AOE Restoration spells one after another, and threw out magnetic Alteration spells in an attempt to break Dar''Khan''s focus. Yet everything he threw at the damned traitor missed.
Every second he failed to slay this foe had him worried that they would lose the fight.
''Come on, die already!'' Varrus internally raged as he tried his best to pin this asshole down.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
All the while, Syra was holding the bulwark almost single handedly.
Her blade chopped an abomination in half, and in the same motion, she called down three hammers of light to crash upon the heads of a pair of gargoyles.
However, the sky was beginning to be blotted out with the thrum of countless gargoyles. The mages and rangers could take down only so many, and were needed to support the warriors and paladins.
In the back of the Undead ranks, Meat Wagon catapults began tossing heavily diseased, explosive organs at them. The boney shrapnel contained within didn''t kill, but instead spread infectious wounds.
Priests that would heal a cut or laceration in seconds were forced to choose between healing a diseased victim over the course of minutes, or those with infectious yet not at the moment life threatening wounds.
Slowly but surely, more and more Highborn were killed, or forced to the back of the line, wounded, crippled, or on the verge of death.
Syra killed all that she could, but more and more kept coming. She slew 1,000 then 2,000 yet the Scourge was endless.
Meanwhile the 700+ Elves slowly declined to 500, and now barely 200 were holding themselves up.
Every second, spells flew into the horde, and swords hacked down. Zombies liquefied, abominations crispified, and ghouls became decapitated upon the tips of ceaselessly swinging swords.
Over 3,000 Undead were slain by a third of their number.
It was not enough.
"Kier! Kier!" A familiar cry of the Dragonhawk resounded in the sky.
"Dragonhawk knights! Reinforcements have arrived from the sky!" Someone shouted, and pointed into the clouds.
Swooping down upon the gargoyles, a few dozen dragonhawk knights skewered them upon their lances, and tossed the gargoyles to the ground.
Their lances acted similarly to Skyrim staves too, and blasted concussive magical balls of arcane power down into the Undead.
The relief brought beleaguered warriors time to regain a hint of stamina. For priests to heal 100 warriors back to the fight. For mages to consume Mana Stones, and breath between constant evocations.
Things were beginning to look up, yet a mighty roar shook the very air of the battlefield.
Flying in to meet the dragonhawk knights was a trio of mighty wyrms. Their bodies were made of dragon bone held together by hauntingly pale blue magicks.
The brief moment of hope was broken as the wyrm breathed one mighty frost breath, utterly encasing three dragonhawk knights, and forcing them to plummet to their doom.
Syra absorbed all this information within a second, and knew she had to take it out.
Holding on to her beloved''s band of hair wrapped tightly around her wrist, Syra smiled to herself, and her confidence grew. She knew her husband would triumph over the wizard. But to do so, she had to take care of any obstacle that may hinder his path.
As her thoughts and feelings of love blossomed, so too did the intensity of Light surrounding her.
She then took a deep breath, and channeled this energy to her legs. Taking aim at the frost wyrm, Syra took a deep breath, and she jumped.
The spell Leap of Faith activated, and Syra rocketed toward the dragon at breakneck speeds.
Spotting her ascent, the wyrm opened its maw wide, and sprayed forth a blizzard of frosty death.
Closing her eyes, Syra let''s the cold wash over her like a spring breeze.
"For Varrus! For love! For my unborn children! DIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!" Syra screamed at the top of her lungs.
Her aura left her body, and condensed solely around the tip of her sword, generating through the mist of cold.
Her strike was true, and she cleaved the great wyrm in half, right down the center.
Frostbitten, and skin blackened, Syra ignored the pain, and screamed her defiance to the heavens as she jumped off the scattered remains of one wyrm onto the next one.
She roughly landed upon its spine, and felt a cold aura begin to seep into her bones.
Black spots began to dot her vision, but she wouldn''t allow any obstacle to stand in their way.
Crushing a Mana Stone, Syra felt his warmth fill her body, and renewed conviction blossomed within her heart.
Overwhelming mana surged out of her pores, and she jammed her sword into the long bony spine of the wyrm.
Light energies flooded the beast''s body, and the sickly blue light holding it together turned holy gold. The wyrm shrieked a ghastly wail as its body began to crumble from the inside.
Standing triumphantly upon the corpse of the wyrm as it plummeted toward the ground, Syra was unconcerned. Her only regret was that the last remaining wyrm was too far away for her to jump to.
"Hail fair maiden, we are the Knights of the Hawk and we are here to rescue you! Quick, take my hand!" A dragonhawk knight shouted as he flew by.
Syra, upon seeing it was a man offering his hand, snorted and turned away. She would not besmirch her husband by holding hands with another man!
Instead, Syra rubbed her wrist one more time, and felt a great big smile stretch across her face. As the wind flapped in her face, and pushed back her long blonde hair, Syra felt so alive knowing she had killed the scum that stood between her and her husband''s happiness.
Sparing a glance of murder at the man who had tried to turn her into an unfaithful wife, Syra slashed out with her sword in silent anger.
"Woah! You''re crazy!" The dragonhawk knight exclaimed in shock, and pulled away.
"Leave her brother! We must deal with this last wyrm!" Another dragonhawk knight urged.
Syra scoffed in ridicule, then turned toward the rapidly approaching ground.
She happened to spot several of those circles her husband called ''Drop Zones.'' Glee came to her heart. ''He must''ve dropped them in advance knowing I would fight in the sky.''
Syra flipped off the wyrm''s corpse like a seasoned ballerina, or circus performer, and easily landed within one of the Drop Zones.
Ah, she was the luckiest woman in the world to have such a thoughtful man. She couldn''t wait wait wait wait ANY longer to have children!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Varrus saw his wife plummeting to the ground and he saw white. His heart stopped, and his mind went numb.
He raised his hand to teleport over to the other side of the battlefield and save her, yet Dar''Khan constantly got in his way.wThe direction he wanted to Blink in had become obvious, and throughout the fight, they gotten a measure for how far each of them could teleport.
"I''ve been studying your movements these days Vandercross. And I know your methods and your greatest weakness!" Dar''Khan crowed in triumph.
Dar''Khan''s sinister smile was awash with schadenfreude as Varrus struggled to come to a decision.
Varrus ignored the asshole, and decided to put faith in his wife. It was time to end this.
For the last five days, Varrus was admittedly scared of closing with the enemy. This entire time, he would stand back, and spam spell after spell, and watch the Undead crumple before him. It was very satisfying.
However, if he wanted to defeat this smarmy sonuvabitch, he would have to leave his comfort zone and get close.
Mind made up, Varrus drew his sword, and used Blink to come closer.
"Fool! You wish to recklessly charge at me, the King of all Elves?!" Dar''Khan scoffed in ridicule, then began to shoot a torrent of concentrated corrupted lightning at Varrus.
Green, electrical sparks met Varrus'' Greater Ward, making his advance slow to an agonizing pace. Lightning bounced and refracted off his magical shield, scoring deep furrows in nearby buildings, and churning up the very earth.
Varrus pressed onward, getting within 10ft of Dar''Khan. Knowing his foe wouldn''t let him get any closer before he Blinked away, Varrus stopped advancing, and held his position.
"Ah ha ha ha! I am the greatest mage to have ever been born! This city should''ve never passed me up!" Dar''Khan laughed madly as he redoubled his efforts.
Varrus grunted, and almost let slip of his ward, yet he grinned all the same.
''That''s right, keep acting like a typical Blizzard written, mustache twirling villain.''
It didn''t take long before his perk Nullifier to activate:
Nullifier - You radiate a dampening field, preventing enemies within 25 feet from regenerating Magicka and Stamina.
A minute passed, and Dar''Khan''s magic began to fade and subside.
"You. What did you do!?" Dar''Khan raged.
"You''re the most powerful mage of all time, you figure it out." Varrus said as he cast Soul Trap, then Blinked behind Dar''Khan to finish the job.
However, as he appeared behind Dar''Khan, that same Undead rogue from before that had been harassing his forces decloaked from invisibility, and stabbed his dagger toward Varrus'' side.
Blue magic light met pale green Ebony Flesh for an instant, then slipped off Varrus, and into Dar''Khan''s back.
"Yo-you damned fool!" Dar''Khan said as he stumbled to the ground.
The rogue and Varrus both paused in their tracks as the reality of the situation kicked in.
Varrus had never let go of his Sense Undead spell this entire time, and was prepared for the rogue, but nothing prepared him for the accidental sleight of hand!
Reacting on instinct, Varrus cast the spell he was most comfortable with and telekinetically yeeted the rogue into a wall, and held him there with one hand. Meanwhile, the other hand unleashed a beam of light, crisping the rogue into ashes. In the process, leveling his Restoration to 100.
"I don''t know how you''ve sapped me of my mana boy, but I''ll be back! That slut of yours will make a fine addition to my collec-" Dar''Khan''s monologue was cut short as Varrus stabbed his fiery enchanted sword down into Dar''Khan''s scalp, silencing him forever.
He then heard a ghastly scream as Dar''Khan was sucked into the Soul Stone, creating a Greater Black Soul Gem. Varrus sighed in relief that the Soul Stone wasn''t solely Skyrim lore, otherwise this cockroach would come back to haunt him again and again. Canonically Dar''Khan was a cockroach that died 3 or 4 times.
Varrus then placed the Soul Gem into his inventory, and took in the rest of the battlefield.
While he had been gallivanting from rooftop to rooftop, the Elves had it bad. Thousands of Undead forces remained, and even if they lost their tactical ability due to Dar''Khan''s defeat, they were still a force to be reckoned with.
Most importantly however, he saw that his wife was safe and sound fighting at the front line.
Sighing in relief, Varrus performed a series of Blinks, and landed at the front of the Elven line.
Syra saw him, and flashed him her award winning smile, to which he blew her a kiss in response.
His presence didn''t go unnoticed.
"What news Vandercross?!"
"Is there an escape, have you brought reinforcements?!"
"You''ve led us into damnation boy! We should''ve never come here!"
Varrus ignored them in favor of placing his final perk in the Restoration tree.
Apotheosis - Grants the "Apotheosis" power. Once a day, casts Warrior''s Flame on all nearby for 500 seconds. Costs 250 Magicka.
He then raised his voice to be heard over the din of battle.
"The arch traitor, and cosigner to our demise, Dar''Khan Drathir has been slain!
All that stands between us and victory is our own fear and self-doubt!
Arise! Arise Elves of Quel''Thalas! This is your hour! Swords shall be shaken, Undead shall be splintered!
It is a magic day, a red day, AND THE SUN RISES!"
Activating Apotheosis, Warrior''s Flame spread to each and every Elf present. Bright golden light tickled and strengthened them to peak health.
Warrior''s Flame - In combat, the Warrior''s Flame periodically touches a random target within 100 feet (including you). Friendly targets are blessed, restoring 20 points of Magicka and Stamina for 5 seconds. Hostile targets are cursed, draining the same amount instead.
Once Warrior''s Flame triggered, a whole host of beneficial passive buffs activated at the same time from Varrus'' perk tree.
Perks proc¡¯d by Warrior¡¯s Flame:
Battle Cleric - When Warrior''s Flame blesses or curses a target, it also increases or reduces armor by 200 points and magic resistance by 25% for its duration.
Eternal Flame - Warrior''s Flame lasts twice as long.
Sacred Guardian - Emanate a 20 foot aura of protection. Any living allies within range who fall below 30% Health are automatically healed 150 points. This effect has a 30 second cooldown per target.
Under my Wings - Dual casting a healing spell on yourself also casts it on nearby nonmechanical allies
Sacred Flame - Your Warrior''s Flame carries the essence of life. Living allies blessed by Warrior''s Flame are healed 20 points per second.
Ashes to Ashes - Your Warrior''s Flame carries the essence of death. Hostile undead cursed by Warrior''s Flame take 30 points of damage per second.
Respite - Healing spells also restore Stamina equal to their power
Edgewalker - Restoration spells are up to 30% more powerful if the recipient is below half Health. The bonus increases as Health decreases.
Every single Elf still alive rose to their feet. No matter how badly wounded they had been, no matter if they were missing an ear, an eye, or a limb, it grew back at remarkable speed.
"The Sunwell is it back?!" One Elf questioned as he held his glowing hand aloft in wonder.
"Now is the time! Deaaaathhhh!" Varrus waved his sword back and forth at the army.
"Deaaaaaathhhh!!!" They screamed back.
"For Silvermoon, for Quel''Thalas!!!" Varrus roared, and led the charge with his wife by his side.
"For Silvermoon, for Quel''Thalas!" All those sworn to House Vandercross roared in response, and followed behind.
A beat later, and any who had maintained their doubts and suspicions shouted alongside them, and joined the fray.
Warrior''s Flame''s light suffused each Elf, constantly healing wounds, and providing an unending supply of stamina.
Any wound they suffered, so long as it wasn''t a decapitation, the damage was healed within moments. Stabs to the heart, cuts to the neck, they were but flesh wounds before the awesome might of Apotheosis!
The holy light flickered about them, and spread into the zombies, abominations, and ghouls like the plague. Causing them to steam and sizzle like a boiled lobster. Their movements slowed, and forced many of them to freeze up like a puppet with its strings cut.
Varrus''s enchanted sword sliced through an abomination''s arm, and then its leg. Forcing it to fall to the ground, he cut its head off. He then stood atop its corpse urging the Elven forces forward with shouts of encouragement.
"So long as I, Highlord Vandercross draw breath, the Convocation of Silvermoon will protect all!"
After shouting for a second, he triggered Windborne - Shouting summons up a divine wind, granting 30% extra attack damage and 15% increased movement speed for 15 seconds. This effect stacks.
Then Varrus leapt into the fray once more to increase his One-Handed skill as much as possible. Any possible retaliatory strike slipped off his Ebony Flesh, and Varrus'' courage grew more and more as he learned to face the enemy at close quarters.
The Undead horde began to smolder and crumble before the Elven charge. Their decayed forms turned ashen, and brittle under the extreme energies of Warrior''s Flame.
Unafraid of mortal peril, those skilled in martial talents fully abandoned defense, and put their offense to the test.
Ten true blue weapons masters abandoned their fear of death like no other, and turned into true masters of killing. The way they slaughtered their foes was almost as insane as Syra''s feats. Their swords moved so fast, it was as if they created after images. Heads and limbs were cut apart like a knife passing through hot butter. Such were their movements, it was like watching a main character in a kung fu movie pick apart the mob.
Mages, priests and rangers joined in on the mad charge forward if only to keep up with the warriors and paladins. Their mana regeneration was increased due to the buff, as a result, they hurled an even larger barrage of fire and magic arrows down and into the enemy. Undead screamed as they sizzled under the volley of fire and holy magic.
Rampaging forth in a loose chevron pattern, the Highborn stomped the Undead underneath, and brought ash and ruin to their near uncountable ranks.
Finally, after much carnage and bloodshed, the streets were burnt clean of any Undead filth.
Varrus stood upon the wrecked remains of the barely recognizable bulwark with Syra next to him in his embrace.
A silent crowd of Elves looked up at him, waiting for him to speak.
"My friends, we have done it!" Varrus shouted, then held up Dar''Khan Drathir''s head for all to see.
"Vandercross!"
"Vandercross!"
"Vandercross!"
The ground shook and rumbled as the surviving Elves-all 643 of them-roared themselves hoarse.
Any chant or shout Varrus had experienced before was absolutely drowned out by the power and intensity present in this one.
Looking at his quest interface, Varrus saw he had reached 15,009/20,000 Undead slain to clear out the city.
"My friends!" Varrus butted in, stopping the chanting, causing everyone to pause in their celebration.
"My friends, heroes and protectors one and all, thank you for your generosity!" Varrus half bowed.
He then held up his hand to forestall anymore cheering.
"But there is still much to be done. Our friends from Farstrider Square, the Knights of the Hawk tell me that much of Quel''Thalas lies in ruin. The work of traitors and selfish motives must be put to the side if we are to survive. Those of you who fought alongside me today have proven themselves to be true sons and daughters of Quel''Thalas. Come claim your just due!"
Varrus finished his speech by reinforcing his message with a Mana Stone reward.
"Syra, my love, thank you." Varrus nestled himself within his wife''s embrace, and held her tight.
"That man from the Hawk Knights tried to hold hands with me." Syra whispered.
Varrus looked over, and saw one of the twin leaders of the dragonhawk knights pick up a Mana Stone and salute him.
Varrus quickly checked his stealth stat: 5.
"He''ll receive his due." Varrus said as he slowly stroked Syra''s hair to placate his crazy lady.
"MN, he better." Syra sleepily muttered as she fell asleep in his embrace, forcing him to pick her up in a princess carry.
Taking another look at the knight, Varrus clucked his tongue in pity. He wasn''t going to kill anyone over this likely misunderstanding, but there would have to be some sort of retribution, or Syra might go a little overboard.
''Sorry bro, but it''s nothing personal.''
Chapter 4
"I heard stories from my father while learning the history of our people, but dismissed it as unimportant. I now understand why the Vandercross were granted a seat on the Convocation. Without the Sunwell, we are nothing." Koren Vongstag, one of the twin dragonhawk riders said in a mix of awe and bitterness.
"Hmm." Varrus intoned as he sat atop the bulwark overseeing a never ending supply of Mana Stones being exchanged for Undead scalps.
Now was one of the rare, peaceful moments when his wife had gone off to press more flowers into her diary, yet here he was, impressing some dude. Admittedly, it was a skilled dude who would make for a great ally, but he''d rather spend his alone time away from his wife¡alone.
Besides, Koren''s hungry gaze almost had Varrus shiver uncomfortably. Fortunately, his desire was placed upon the large pile of stones. At least Varrus hoped so. He''d hate to explain Koren''s ''mysterious'' death if his wife ever thought some guy was hitting on him.
"This bores me brother, when we left father, we promised him to gather survivors, rescue fair maidens, and gather glory for House Vongstag!" The other brother, Dakar, complained.
"Apologies for my brother''s impertinence, Highlord!" Koren was quick to flick Dakar on the ear.
Dakar scoffed, and strode off to mount his dragonhawk.
"...." Varrus remained silent in the face of Koren''s apology.
Dakar was the one who his wife wanted him to punish for daring to ''woo'' her. Varrus considered using this opportunity to take petty revenge, but decided he would rather do so stealthily. He didn''t want to ruin an opportunity to make allies with a pair of brother''s who could take out a frostwyrm.
What was especially impressive was that the Vongstag brothers did so while in the throes of mana sickness. Based on their performance, they might be eligible for Hero status once their mana was restored.
Considering all this, Varrus let loose with a big belly laugh, he then raised his hand, and pat Koren on the shoulder. The other blonde was stiff like a board, and soon relaxed with a hollow chuckle of his own.
"No worries my friend! We must come together in these trying times!" Varrus was quick to reassure.
"That is a relief to hear my Lord." Koren visibly brightened up, and softly smiled.
"Yes, your help was most welcome Koren. Please, you and your men deserve a reward!" Varrus gestured toward the dozen or so pack of figuratively salivating dragonhawk knights.
"Well, if you say so¡" Koren said with uncontrolled desire.
Varrus wordlessly dumped a bag full of Mana Stones into Korens hands.
Koren seemed to ignore the world as he eagerly crushed and consumed the power inside. His body exploded with holy light, and Varrus felt a pressure emanating from him only just below that of Syra''s.
"Amazing! How much of this did you say you had!" Koren dropped his diplomatic act, and gripped Varrus'' forearm like a hyperactive kid hopped up on sugar.
Varrus merely raised an eyebrow, and stared him down.
"Ahem, I forgot myself." Koren cleared his throat and stepped back when he noticed four nearby guards with half-drawn steel.
Varrus waved his hand, and the guards stepped back.
"I understand. Our people are destined to crave mana. It is our biggest weakness, and our most powerful strength. One day, I hope to restore the Sunwell." Varrus said in a conspiratorial tone, yet loud enough that every Elf within 30 ft must''ve heard.
High off this crushing victory, Varrus knew his strongest supporters would be in the crowd. If he wanted to sway the general population to work with him, the ad hoc army members would be the loudest voices spreading word of both his plan to restore the Sunwell, and his achievements.
"Truly?" Koren said in a voice that desperately wanted to believe.
"I have some ideas on how to accomplish this feat. It would take time, months, possibly years, but I am certain I shall prevail. Yet I worry some may try to stand in my way¡." Varrus trailed off, and looked into the distance with an unfocused look in his eye.
"Who would dare?!" Koren stepped forward once more, and said in righteous indignation. A holy aura of might weighed heavily upon the air as his magic pressed down onto the surroundings.
Varrus internally smirked as he beheld the casual use of Koren flexing his power. Hero units were something else.
"I know not their names, but our people fell low to treachery once, it could happen again. I have your support in quashing the plotters in the dark, don''t I Koren?" Varrus said softly.
Emotions warred across Koren''s face as he was obviously conflicted about something.
"But my father, my House-"
"Will only benefit from an alliance. I''ve seen the talent you and your brother displayed, and I''m impressed. Think about it." Varrus finished by clapping Koren on the shoulder and sending him on his way with another mageweave bag of Mana Stones.
[Speech +1]
Varrus decided not to press any further, knowing he had planted the seed of doubt. If Koren wasn''t convinced to form an alliance by his words at face value, he would be convinced by Varrus'' Mana Stones or his battle record.
Besides, Varrus'' Speech skill had leveled, what better indicator was there than that? He was certain the mana addiction would sway Koren, and where he went, his much less responsible brother would follow.
Speaking of said brother, Varrus saw him mounted upon his dragonhawk performing flips and tricks while a dozen or so women and one or two men swooned at his performance.
"Do you want to see me do a corkscrew dive, kick flip?!" Dakar asked the small crowd of his fans.
The responding cheers were music to Dakar''s ears, so he began to fly high up in the air, then corkscrew down low, as close to the ground as possible.
There, on the ground where he was about to almost hit before pulling up was a large pile of dragonhawk dung. Varrus narrowed his eyes. This was his chance for Syra''s revenge.
As Dakar came closer and closer to the ground, and the cheers became more and more frenzied, Varrus stealthily flicked his hand, casting Telekinesis.
The animal shit flew up from the ground in big globules, absolutely coating Dakar and his mount.
"Who did that?!" Dakar scowled, and his mount cried out as its shit covered wings spread to the fans down below.
"Boo! Boo! Doo doo Dakar!" One fan scowled and began to chant.
Soon the entire group sent him fleeing in embarrassment with their hurled insults.
Varrus rolled his eyes at the fickleness of fans, and took this lesson to heart. Earlier, he had had his name chanted to the heavens. Yet they could turn on him at the flip of a coin. Even Kael''Thas had half his own troops defect to the other side in Outland. If it could happen to the beloved prince, it could happen to him.
After completing his petty revenge, Varrus turned away, and decided to go over today''s gains.
Varrus had collected a few dozen alchemical ingredients from his army once they searched and looted the city''s ruins, or the few undamaged homes.
Alchemical ingredients were quite frankly, a huge negative in Varrus'' opinion. Oh sure, everyone wanted to find the right ingredients to make a potion that could theoretically upgrade stats, armor, etc forever. The trouble is, Varrus had to literally eat the ingredients if he wanted to find out their viability.
Ever eat Murloc eggs? Harpy''s feather? Troll''s blood? Undead flesh? Treant bark? Fire oil? Ghost mushroom? Blindweed?
No? Varrus didn''t think any sane person would either.
Yeah, and if he cooked the food items, they would no longer be listed under the ingredient tab, and instead become part of food.
Discovering the secrets of alchemy like this would be long, tedious, and frankly, disgusting as all heck. Varrus resented the thought, hence his alchemy stagnating to a low level. Perhaps he could randomly mix them, and his Ui would tell him the effects, but he was rather ignorant on the subject. Some players devoted time to alchemy in Skyrim, but it was frankly, one of the skill trees he seldom touched. It would be something to test out at a later date.
Fortunately the formulas native to this world were in the book section of his UI, he could craft those. He may have to settle for Warcraft potions for a while.
Which wasn''t all that bad considering he could learn things that increased his spell power, haste, shrink/gigantify things. Just thinking about brewing a thousand shrink potions, then feeding them to a sleeping dragon was setting Varrus into a chuckle.
Potions were definitely important, but he was much more interested in enchanting and smithing.
His Soul Cloak for example collected over 4,881 Petty Soul Gems, 511 Lesser Soul Gems, 58 Common Soul Gems, and one Greater Soul Gem.
Fortunately the Undead were functionally little different from Draugr, and he didn''t need to make Soul Stones to contain their souls. As a Soul Gem worked under the Skyrim UI system, and took their essence while the soul moved on. Otherwise, all the innocent Human and Elf souls trapped within the Undead would become trapped once more in his Soul Gem.
However, the Soul Stone ability in Warcraft, not to be mistaken with Soul Gem from Skyrim, was a Warlock ability, and could act as a Black Soul Gem. Which Varrus did use to contain the souls of particularly troublesome opponents, and would consume their soul upon use. Such a vile opponent like Drathir Dar''Khan deserved nothing less. That guy had his entire body immolated into ashes, yet somehow still came back three more times. Varrus could think of no better punishment than to use him as fuel to strengthen an enchantment.
He didn''t have much time to experiment, but thanks to the Alteration spell Fabricate Object, he could spawn in a crafting station anywhere at any time.
Casting the spell with a wave of his hands, Varrus saw the enchanting table appear out of a purple vortex, and plop down in front of him.
Placing his hands on the table in the classic pose from the game, he felt his consciousness go to the crafting UI, and he could vaguely see his surroundings in a 360 radius.
Over the past five days, he had picked up tons of rings, amulets, crowns, cloaks, and other assorted items that contained a modicum of magical power, and disenchanted them. Although they turned to dust, he learned dozens of enchantments.
He could enchant brooms to sweep the floor, items to remain hot or cold like a fridge or stove, he could even create magic orbs which acted like mobile phones, able to record or facetime with linked orbs.
Silly QOL enchantments at face value, but what if he enchanted a thousand swords to sweep at an incredibly fast rate? What if he enchanted thousands of plates of armor with the coldest frost attribute, and dropped them on top of Ragnaros? Conversely, when he eventually made a trip to Northrend to rip the Lich King to shreds, what if he equipped each of his troops with a hot plate?
There were many more QOL enchantments, but what Varrus was interested in was damage. Unfortunately, those were less common.
In terms of flat effects, Varrus gained: water walking, breathing, invisibility, fire, movement speed, protection, and levitation.
Additionally, he could allocate stats such as strength, intelligence, agility, spell power, etc to a piece of equipment.
For instance, a Petty Soul Gem, instead of enchanting a piece of gear with something like water breathing, he could assign 5 stat points.
Say Varrus wanted to enchant his ring with +5 strength? No problem! Additionally, he could distribute those points in any order. As an example: +2 intelligence, +1 agility, +1 stamina, and +1 spirit.
And this was the base amount. As his enchanting skill went up, so too did his ability. Just like in Skyrim, when skill went up, the amount of damage on a fire enchant would increase.
Of course with perks, enchanting was that much more powerful. Enchanting Mastery (2) - New enchantments are 25/50% stronger. Soul gems provide 2/4 extra weapon charge points per level of Enchanting.
A Petty Soul Gem could therefore enchant a piece of equipment with +10 stats. Not much at face, however, it was important to keep in mind that 1 intelligence = 10 mana!
In fact the entire stat to effect distribution went something like:
1 spirit = 2.5 mana +hp/sec
1 intellect = 10 mana
1 strength = 5 dmg on a weapon
1 agility = ¡Á0.05 cast/swing/move speed
1 stamina = 10 stamina + hp
Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.
1 spell power = 5 dmg on a spell
Doing some simple math, say every piece of clothing is enchanted. Hood, chest, gloves, two rings, amulet, pants, boots. That''s 8 pieces of gear for a total of 800 mana. Meaning one entire set enchanted by Petty Soul Gems provided enough mana to cast most Master tier spells!
The Petty Soul Gem is the most basic enchanting material. Meaning the stat increase could only go higher!
After some experimentation. Varrus concluded that the rate of stat improvement seemed to increase by a factor of 4.
This was Varrus''s theory at least, because he had every Soul Gem type except a Grand Soul Gem, so he had yet to verify.
HOWEVER, the stat distribution was looking pretty crazy.
At their base, without any modification, Soul Gems could dole out an amount of stats like so:
Petty: 5
Lesser: 20
Common: 80
Greater: 320
Grand: 1,280
Once he learned the perks Gem Dust, Regalia, and Attunement, he would be able to increase an enchantment by 90%!!!
Gem Dust - You may choose to destroy a Flawless Gem when you begin the enchanting process and sprinkle its dust on the Arcane Enchanter. New enchantments are 25% stronger when placed upon an item of the type corresponding to the gem.
Regalia - New enchantments placed upon robes, circlets, hoods and necklaces are 30% stronger.
Attunement - All enchantments on equipped weapons and armor are 10% more powerful and last 10% longer.
A Grand Soul Gem would be coming in at 2,433 stat points. Aka, 24,320 mana or hp.
Varrus was imagining that, but on every single piece of gear. If he put it all into strength, would he be strong like the Hulk? Agility making him fast like the Flash? Heck, agility also affected his cast time!
Frankly speaking, Enchanting was some bullshit, and some bullshit accessories. And Varrus was happy to abuse it.
If he wanted the perks for himself, he was going to need to level Enchanting. He might as well take this opportunity to further his follower''s strength at the same time. Petty enchantments for the fair weather fighters, and maybe a few pitty lesser enchantments for the actually skilled amongst their number to sweeten the deal.
And for House Vandercross? Varrus practically wanted to shout ''you get a car, you get a car, everyone''s getting a car!'' He couldn''t leave those directly sworn to him by the wayside. They were getting almost all of his Lesser enchantments. As for his Common Soul Gems, he had so few, he only had enough to fully deck out himself, his wife, and two or three more veterans.
Pulling out of the UI interface, Varrus turned to the one veteran House Guard he had come to rely on the most when he wanted shit to get done. The man was different from most Elves, as his hair was red, he sported a beard, a scar ran diagonally across his face, and he possessed a rugged masculinity not seen in many other Highborn.
"Rho''dan, inform everyone to gather, it''s almost time to return. However, before we set out, inform them that I plan to reward everyone present by placing enchantments upon their gear."
"Yes Highlord." Rho''dan nodded, and began to round everyone up.
There was no nonsense with that one. Serious, quick with a blade, and experienced. He made for an excellent follower.
Varrus, meanwhile, was brimming with excitement as people began to form a crowd around his table.
After a sizeable group formed, Varrus raised his voice to be heard.
"I am so impressed by the contributions of everyone present. My pride in the brave defenders of Silvermoon is so strong, I know you can face any adversity head on! However, this should never have happened!" Varrus said as he gestured toward the nearby ruins.
"The harsh reality is that despite our magical might, our long wisdom, and keen intelligence, We. Are. Too. Weak!" Varrus sighed in lamentation, and slammed his hand down harshly upon the table.
"So let''s change that starting here! Line up, Vandercross House Guard on one side, everyone else the other. I will enchant two pieces of your equipment of your choice, and then you will get back in line until I am out of enchanting materials. For the glory of Silvermoon!"
"For the glory of Silvermoon!"
Varrus then began to accept the irregulars first so he could level up his Enchanting skill level, and place his perk points in the skill tree. Once he had that 91% boost, then he would upgrade the gear of those truly loyal to him.
Once the line began to advance, Varrus had the people strip off their gear, and place it on the table one at a time. Once the item was on the table, it would enter his UI interface, and he could choose the effect. When he wanted to enchant an object, he would feel his body move on autopilot, and wave glowing hands over the equipment for a second, then it was done.
All in all, about a 5-10 second process with Varrus deciding on what enchants to use taking up most of the time.
Before long, several hours had passed. He often enchanted bows, and ranger equipment with a combination of strength, agility, and intelligence. Varrus considered going all in on agility, but the Elven rangers were already pretty fast, what they needed was a larger capacity to cast Arcane Arrow, and a stronger draw strength to permanently put their enemy into the ground.
Paladins got a mix of stamina, intelligence, and spirit. Warrior''s strength, stamina and agility. Priests and mages got spell power, spirit and intelligence.
Finally it was time to pimp out Rho''dan and the one other veteran guard who had tagged along. Varrus'' enchantment skill had reached 100 after spending thousands of Petty Soul Gems, and hundreds of Lesser Soul Gems. With all the perks in place, he was ready to strengthen his most loyal followers.
Each Common Soul Gem netted 80 stat points by itself. With the 91% boost due to the perks, it came up to 152 points per piece of gear. Given the 8 traditional pieces of equipment + the shield of a warrior, Varrus could give Rho''dan 1,368 stat points, an amount theoretically equivalent to 13,680 health.
Now that he had 100 in enchanting, he could also use the second enchantment on anything other than stats.
What Varrus wanted was a wall to stand in front, so he could rain down magic from behind. So he put 1/3 of the stats into strength, and the remaining stats into stamina.
As for the secondary enchantment, Varrus went with Protection. Which acted just like Ebony Flesh, coating the wearer in a secondary film of magical armor that lasted until it broke. The base armor amount wasn''t much considering it was only a Common Soul Gem, only about 25pts, which was the equivalent of an iron armor chest piece in Skyrim.
Meaning, anything like a long bow from Earth, or especially a bullet from a modern firearm would easily break it. However, the 91% boost made Protection increase to 49 armor. Multiply that by 9, and a pale, translucent shield worth 441 armor would completely covered Rho''dan from head to toe.
Confusing math aside, the point is, Varrus'' favorite yes-man had just become a nigh unstoppable tank.
As soon as he placed the armor on, unbearable strength radiated from his person. The crimson haired warrior took a step forward, and slammed his sword into the ground, then took a knee.
"I had misgivings for so long. The drunken parties, the womanizing, the squandering of generations for wealth. But you have opened my eyes to the real you. My loyalty was to your father, and everything he had done for me. Now, I fully pledge myself to you, Varrus Vandercross. I am your blade now and forever. All hail Highlord Vandercross!" Rho''dan said with great seriousness, and solemnity.
Varrus was slightly embarrassed as his inherited memories of bad drunken poetry, and long nights partying came to mind. Rho''dan was the one who had to rescue him from one to many potentially nasty situations. His stiff face and unyielding attitude were something ingrained into Varrus'' psyche.
The old him was quite the little Malfoy. Lines like "My father will hear of this!" followed by a swift retreat seemed to be the norm.
Varrus barely plastered on a weak smile, and withheld the cringe from spreading to his face as he helped Rho''dan stand.
"I accept your oath of fealty Rho''dan." Varrus replied with some embarrassment.
Deciding to move on from this moment of uncomfortable memories, Varrus enchanted a new set of equipment, placing his robe and family necklace into his inventory.
Using Common Soul Gems, he put half the stat points into stamina, and half into spell power. Increasing his health, stamina and spell damage/effectiveness on the Skyrim UI by a considerable margin. Likewise, he also placed protection upon his gear too with the help of the secondary enchantment perk.
Robes, pants, boots, 2 rings, and an amulet came up to 6 pieces of gear, worth 912 stat points. Divided in half, that was 4,560 hp/stamina, and 2,280 damage added to spells! When compared to the toughness of a Legendary Dragon on Legendary difficulty that had 4k+ hp, Varrus would be able to two shot one with a basic fireball.
Again, Varrus had to remind himself that there was no such thing as hp in this world, as health translated to toughness. However, Varrus considered the toughness of a Legendary Dragon to be lore accurate to his current situation.
Meaning if he fought something of similar size and magical ability, it should have just as much toughness.
This told Varrus that he had a good chance to take on anything less than an Aspect. That other than the most powerful of their kind, perhaps only the most venerated and legendary of ''regular'' dragons, like Onyxia, Nefarious, Korielstraz, or Kalecgos, would prove a challenge. Anything smaller than them were of no concern.
Satisfied with his gains, Varrus was going to dismiss the enchanting table, Varrus felt a sudden and tight embrace from behind.
Syra was nuzzling her head into his back like some sort of kitten rubbing her scent on him.
For a woman carrying such a big sword, her footsteps were exceedingly nimble. He couldn''t hear her despite his increased hearing.
But he wasn''t mad. In fact, he loved to be surprised by his wife.
"Yes, yes, I haven''t forgotten about you. I''ve simply saved the best for last." Varrus said faintly as he turned around in her embrace, and gently stroked her cheek with the back of his hand.
Syra forced her head under Varrus'' chin, and simply wouldn''t let go.
It was only now that his position had swarmed that he could see hundreds of Highborn staring at him and his wife.
"Rho''dan, have everyone break camp, darkness is approaching and it is time we were well on our way home." Varrus said with as much injected authority and Highborn smugness as he could muster.
"It will be done, Highlord." Rho''dan said with a smile.
Apparently it hadn''t been as convincing as he had hoped. Rho''dan never smiled! Besides, there was no Speech level up.
Varrus sighed, lifting up a strand of his wife''s hair from the exhale.
"Do you want strength, speed, endurance, defense, mana or a mix?" Varrus questioned.
"Speed so that I may never stray from my Love''s side for too long." Syra said after a moment''s thought.
Including the Greater Soul Gem among the Commons, Varrus enchanted Syra''s boots, pants, shoulder pads, bracer, two rings and an amulet. Dumping everything into agility, his wife''s movement/cast/attack speed had increased by 81.85%!
Syra dashed from his front to his back so fast, he could hardly believe it. If he had any comparison from Earth, it was like watching a sports car accelerate to 60mph in a second. She was clearly still visible, yet her movements were outrageous!
She then began to giggle as she would run back and forth behind Varrus, creating tiny gusts of wind, and flapping his long blonde hair left and right.
Varrus rolled his eyes at Syra''s frivolity, but joined in the fun too when he predicted where she would run, and held her in a telekinetic grip.
"I''ve been caught. What does my Lord think my punishment should be?" Syra said huskily.
"Why my dear we should-" Varrus paused in his tracks as he took a whiff of his wife.
Good lord, what kind of flowers was this woman picking?!
"Take a bath." Varrus exited sex talk mode, and said matter of factly.
"What are you implying?" Syra said in a lower pitched voice.
Her slightly clenched fists did not escape Varrus'' notice.
Biting the bullet, Varrus pulled her in closer to him with his telekinesis, and recommenced with the romance.
"I mean a bath, our naked bodies intertwined within the warmth, me washing your hair, cleaning you." Varrus breathed heavily into her ear.
"Oh, oh yes, I see now my Lord. I''ve been a dirty girl, and need a good wash. Will you help me?" Syra said as she roughly pulled on Varrus'' robes.
"Of cour-hya!" Varrus agreed, then was picked up in a princess carry by his wife.
"I shall see you at home, HighLord." Rho''dan bowed from the side.
"Highlord Vandercross, I shall tell my father about our meeting!" Koren shouted.
Many other Highborn laughed loudly at the scene.
Varrus didn''t even have time for a witty comeback as Syra began to speed blitz them home. She dashed there with single minded determination.
When they reached the premises of the estate, several rangers and other House Guard on patrol greeted them, yet Syra paid them no mind.
Hundreds more Highborn who were training in the square hastily bowed. Some seemed to even recoil at their approach. Varrus idly noted that most of them were bruised, and had been heavily damaged. However there were easily more than a thousand of them. It would seem his ultimatum had paid off! Of course some would be scared, they were forced to kill their former friends turned Undead.
Varrus didn''t have much time to appraise the people, because his wife stopped for no man.
She marched with him in her arms to a bathouse whereupon she promptly kicked the door open, then practically tore off Varrus'' clothes. Warm steam from the bathhouse entered his pores, and helped relieve the day''s stress.
He wanted to say something, but her hot, moist lips pressed themselves upon his mouth, and any protest disappeared.
He breathed heavily as they parted, and rested his forehead onto hers. They stared at one another for what felt like eons before he went in for another passionate kiss.
His hands squeezed her firm, yet pliable buttocks, and felt himself harden as she began to moan into him and rub her body up against his crotch.
Syra pulled away from him, and took Varrus by the hand.
Confused, Varrus followed along.
"Come, rest your head." Syra commanded, as she pointed at her lap.
Varrus followed her orders, and soon found himself staring up at her magnificent breasts.
He reached a hand up for a squeeze, only to have it be slapped away.
Syra''s enchanting smile stunned him, and he couldn''t say a word in protest.
Varrus felt warmth spread across his chest and abs as his wife began to ladle water from a bucket onto him.
Her soft thighs made for the perfect pillow, and he felt like he could let go, and fall asleep.
This closeness, this comfort. It was heaven.
His drowsy eyes, however, were forced wide open as he felt his wife''s grip across his cockhead.
Syra began to rub the palm of her hand up and down his shaft, causing him to shake and shudder in pleasure.
All the while, she would stroke his hair with her other hand, and began to hum an Elven melody, and occasionally sing along.
Varrus was transfixed by her performance. Tears of ecstasy mixed with a forlorn sense of loss dripped down unbidden from the corner of his eyes.
He had lost so much coming to this world. His parents meant the world to him, and their deaths would break his heart. Yet he would never again see them, or handle their affairs.
The tears began to well up, and Varrus started to uncontrollably sob while his wife held him in her embrace. She gently rocked back and forth, and kept singing her nameless melody.
"I love you, always remember that Varrus. Come woe and weal, sunshine and doom, we share our lives together. I will always be here to protect you, my Love." Syra said as she leaned down for a kiss.
Varrus wanted to lean away because snot and tears had made him embarrassed to look her in the face, yet she gripped him tight, and clunked her forehead onto his.
"I love you too Syra, and thank you. Thank you for everything you do. Without you, I, I don''t think I could keep doing this. I don''t want to fight, but if I don''t, who will?" Varrus said between stuttered sniffs.
"You are a brave man Varrus. I know that you hadn''t fought so much as once in your life before five days ago. Most people hadn''t. But you faced your fears, and came out stronger for it. And bravery deserves to be rewarded." Syra said huskily once more, and resumed her ministrations.
Her hand began to pick up speed, and Varrus could barely contain himself.
"Syra, I''m-mnn!"
Varrus was interrupted by a sloppy kiss, and couldn''t help but buck his hips while his wife''s smooth hand sent his cock tingling in pleasure.
Varrus closed his eyes, and softly moaned as sticky hot fluid erupted from his tip all over his wife''s hand.
"Oh no~ it looks like it''s your turn to clean me my Lord." Syra said with great drama.
Varrus rolled his eyes, and couldn''t help but smile at her antics.
God, he was in love.
Chapter 5
Waking up feeling refreshed, Varrus blearily reached over to kiss his wife good morning, only to find a noticeable void in the bed.
In place of his wife, there was a note. Varrus rolled his eyes, and sighed in relief. He hated to admit it, but her near constant presence acted as a blanket of security, and warmth he didn''t know he needed.
Holding the letter up to the light, it read:
You were so cute while you slept, I couldn''t bring myself to wake you. Your little nose was so alluring, I almost took a nibble! Worry not My Love, I won''t be gone long. The Vanderguard have informed me of a cache of plague free ingredients, and I awoke early to prepare breakfast. Rho''dan also informed me of some rare flowers, so I just HAD to take care of them for you.
-Your loving wife, Syra.
Varrus shook his head and smiled to himself.
Ah, what a considerate woman. He took a deep breath, catching a whiff of her scent, then slowly exhaled, content.
"Although she can be quite silly, Vanderguard of all things!...besides, if we were going to give them a name, it should clearly be the Crossguard!" Varrus cheerfully admonished his wife to himself.
However, Varrus'' cheer soon turned to confusion as the cry of a dragonhawk came accompanied by a letter being dropped in through his bedroom window.
Unfolding the letter, Varrus raised an eyebrow in surprise. This upcoming meeting would be quite interesting. If the contents of the unsigned letter were to be believed, it seemed that treachery was on the menu.
Closing his eyes in thought, Varrus couldn''t help but shake his head.
Damn smug elves. They were on the brink of destruction, yet politics mattered more to them than the survival of theri race.
"Tsk." Varrus spat.
A series of light knocks on his door and a quiet cough that suspiciously sounded like Rho''dan had Varrus jump in his place.
Quickly casting a small jet of flames, Varrus burnt the unsigned letter into ashes. He then took one last look at the letter Syra had written for him, kissed it, then placed it into his inventory.
Slipping on his robes, and applying some basic cleansing and hair/skin care spells, he answered the door.
"Highlord, the Vongstag patriarch, Tou''vor has arrived. He mentioned something of a potential alliance. I have placed him and his sons in your office." Rho''dan said, and stepped aside to follow behind Varrus.
"What do you know of Tou''vor, Rho''dan?" Varrus questioned as they walked down the hallway of Varrus''s massive estate.
"Strong. I fought beside him in the Troll Wars, and his knights proved a crucial role in that conflict. While fighting in a squadron of dragonhawks, his value is almost equivalent to the Lady." Rho''dan spoke in a direct and dry manner, yet Varrus could detect an underlying hint of respect.
So Tou''vor was an old, powerful veteran in charge of aerial units. Crucial traits to survive in the current era. Especially airborne fighters. Control the skies, and the enemy would be in fear of losing their logistics, being flanked, or bombed at any time.
Likely accustomed to giving orders, and the cruelties of war, Tou''vor would make for an effective ally.
"Anything else?" Varrus queried as they turned one last corner and neared the office.
Rho''dan halted, causing Varrus to swiftly turn back, and look at him questioningly.
"At the founding of Quel''Thalas, the Vongstag''s were offered a seat on the table of Highlords for domesticating dragonhawks, and hawkstriders. However, they refused due to their pro-monarchy stance. The current patriarch is soured by his father''s actions, and has been political adversaries with the Covenant for the last couple of millennia."
"I take it he and my father didn''t see eye to eye?" Varrus quipped sardonically.
"Muffle please." Rho''dan whispered.
Varrus raised an eyebrow, yet obliged, eager to learn any additional information to prepare himself for this very important meeting.
The spell Muffle was one many Highborn learned, as rumor and gossip was the strongest currency before Mana Stones entered the market. One of the countless tomes of knowledge given to him in exchange for some Mana Stones contained this spell.
A faint deep blue sheen coated Varrus and Rho''dan in a 10ft bubble, limiting any sound from traveling outward.
"Over the millenia, your father has cut funding to the Knights of the Hawk, and attempted no less than eight assassination attempts on Tou''vor. In the process, Tou''vor''s wife was slain in the crossfire. In fact, part of the reason why your father made a political marriage between you and the Lady in the first place was so that he could secure Faedra''s expertise, and her silence." Rho''dan whispered while covering his mouth, taking extra precautions not to be heard or have his lips read.
Varrus paused as he mentally fumbled. Well, his wife''s superhuman feats made much more sense knowing that his mother-in-law was an assassin. However, that was a thought for another time. He had a meeting to go to, and the more he learned of Tou''vor before he met him, the stronger of a position he would be in.
"Why did my father hate him so much?" Varrus asked.
"Your father didn''t hate Tou''vor, he despised him. You see, the dragonhawk are no native species to Azeroth. They were the mix of a dragon and a mighty hawk. One of the dragons who bred with the hawks just so happened to be Tou''vor''s wife. Their copulation was an affront to your father''s sense of propriety." Rho''dan stared at his feet as a complicated look revealed itself across his face.
"...." Varrus was speechless, his father was a blood purist of all things! How sickeningly Malfoy. While Varrus admitted to himself, having your wife breed with some hawks to gain a military advantage was not something he would be willing to do. It was frankly disgusting and borderline NTR, but hey, as long as it wasn''t his wife doing these things, he really couldn''t be bothered to care that much.
More importantly, could he realistically make allies with a man who had centuries of beef with his family?
"Well, let''s go inside." Varrus said with a sickly grin.
He did not have high hopes for this negotiation. Perhaps he would be pleasantly surprised, and his martial ability would outweigh his youth and inexperience. Perhaps Tou''vor could ignore a thousand+ years of constant backstabbing and political jockeying.
Haha. Yeah. Fat chance.
Throwing on a plastic smile, Varrus nodded at Rho''dan.
"I have your back, Highlord." Rho''dan nodded in reassurance.
Varrus took a deep breath, and exhaled. What was political talk in the face of a never ending horde of zombies? He had this.
Entering the room, Varrus saw the twins sitting at a large meeting table, and the backside of a man decked out in a set of crimson plate armor. He was blonde with long hair, and was tall and stocky like Thor from Marvel.
"So the young one has joined us at last. You know, it was awfully vain to have placed a portrait of himself in his own office." The man, Tou''vor took a swig of a wineskin, then tilted his chin up at a portrait.
Varrus'' attention was drawn to a white haired elf pointing a dagger outward. Cursed memories of such a man admonishing him for decades sent a frown to his face. This father of his not only looked like a super villain, but his political maneuvering had him act like one too.
Tou''vor ignored Varrus''s momentary discomfort, and continued to monologue, seemingly to himself.
"Bastard must''ve known he''d be gone for good one day. Let whoever inherited this mansion know who they owed their wealth and prosperity too. Am I right, Varrus Vandercross?" Tou''vor''s smile was stained purple from his beverage. A sharp glint entered his eye as he took another long swig of his wineskin.
This was a rough start, but Varrus could smooth things over. His Speech skill wasn''t low anymore, if anything, he could trust in that.
"Tou''vor Vongstag, perhaps we''ve gotten off on the wrong start. I am not my father, and am interested in working together to solve this undead crisis that plagues our lands. The survival of our race matters more than any petty politics, or power plays." Varrus said in a diplomatic tone as he moved closer and offered his hand.
"Pwah! Honeyed words for a boy not even a century old. I wouldn''t trust you to clean a dragonhawk, much less ride one! How could someone inexperienced like you possibly restore order to Quel''thalas? Wake up child, those ''petty politics and power plays'' are the lifeblood of our race. I came here to see if my sons spoke truth. So far, I am unimpressed." Tou''vor said as he brushed past Varrus to sit at the end of the table.
Varrus felt his blood boil at the blatant disrespect. Clenching his fists behind his back, Varrus smiled brightly, and waved a palm.
Mana Stones poured out one after another, spooling across the table, and clattering to the floor.
''Watch this mana addict lose his high and mighty attitude once he sees a road to feeding his hunger.'' Varrus thought to himself, all but barely withholding a smirk from forming on his face.
"You came all this way. You must be starving. As a host, it is only my duty to be accommodating!" Varrus gestured toward the Mana Stones that had fallen to the floor.
''You want to be antagonistic? Fine. I don''t need to be your friend to use your forces. I know how your addiction to mana old man. Bend your pride backwards, and pick up a stone from the dirty floor.''
''Go on. Pick it up.'' Varrus thought to himself as he maintained eye contact.
"My boys told me tales of warrior''s rising from near death, of a thousand, thousand undead crushed beneath the boot of the Quel''Dorei. Yet all I see is a child attempting to fill his father''s shoes. These Mana Stones may enamor the foolhardy and gullible, yet this ploy is that of a child preying on simple addictions." Tou''vor briefly paused to glance at Koren.
"Tou''vor, Tou''vor, to reject a gift during our most desperate hour, I am confused. You hate my father, and trust me, the feeling between us is mutual. However, these are Mana Stones. If not for your own stubborn pride, at the very least you could accept them for your soldiers." Varrus said as he took out another Mana Stone and began to errantly play with it, and seemingly ignored Tou''vor''s ever growing scowl.
"The wise and experienced will see you for the youth you are. I say this not to insult you, Vandercross, but to educate you to the ways of the world. A word of advice: put away your impossible promises, and focus on the attainable. There''s nothing stopping me, or anyone else for that matter from robbing you blind, and laying claim to that generational horde of Mana Stones that the Vandercross have built up over the millennia."
Varrus crushed the stone he was fondling, and deeply inhaled as the energy coursed through his veins. He deliberately wore an expression of ecstasy as the mana shone through his blue eyes.
"To be robbed blind, one must be blind Tou''vor. I do not think either of us is quite so stupid as to enact violence upon one another immediately after the destruction of Silvermoon. But then again, I do not hold in high esteem those who would parade their wives like a pig at a county fair." Varrus said, and inclined his head.
"Amusing Vandercross. Most amusing. I see that the drama stage has made a fine clown of the family name. Japes and mummery are what I expected when I came here, and I am disappointed to have been proven correct. You came to my boys, and asked them to ally with you. But with all the supposed power of a Highlord''s family, your forces only saved what, eight, nine thousand? While my Vongstag suffered from mana sickness, and yet we have secured well over 20,000 survivors! You should not be asking us to ally with you, Varrus Vandercross, you should be begging us to protect you. Or will you continue to mock your superiors? To continue posturing now that an experienced elf has called you out on them?" Tou''vor took a swig of his drink, and directed a bemused look at Varrus.
The smug radiating off of Tou''vor had Varrus itching to cast a spell.
"An old man lost in his own glory. I offered this alliance in good faith, yet all you can do is lecture and threaten. You''re past your prime old man, and unwilling to listen to reason. You see 8,000 survivors and judge me to be weak. Yet it was the Undead who were too strong! You, who defended Falconwing Square, commanded a genuine fortress. All I had to work with was a few hundred irregulars, yet destroyed ten to twenty thousand! Do not mistake my youth for weakness, old man. I am simply stunned at your lack of awareness. Did Koren tell you nothing of our victory?!" Varrus looked across the meeting table, and chuckled with confused incredulity. How confident could one idiot be? Was the death of his father so impactful on this millennia old rival that he had lost the plot?
"The young Vandercross bares his teeth! Yet you know not what you say! Children tell tall tales, Dakar told me a much different story. I know you have twisted Koren''s perspective, and for that, I will have to educate him. No, my old rival had quite the collection of Mana Stone powered golems, and weapons. It would be more surprising if you lost! Only me, someone who sparred over the years understands your father and his resources the best. Only I can safeguard your holdings without bloodshed." Tou''vor said while leaning over the table, and squeezed his fist.
Varrus shook his head in disbelief. This guy was really trying to shake him down! After all the bloodshed, power hungry fools would remain as power hungry fools! He supposed that chaos was the best opportunity for someone to raise their social standing, and Tou''vor seemed all too happy to take out his rival to do it. Letting out a sigh, Varrus wrote Tou''vor off as a lost cause. If he continued to threaten him like this...Varrus would be left with no other choice but to end the threat.
"Once the other Quel''Dorei see your wealth, they will stop at nothing to seize it. You need my protection. Otherwise, there will sadly become yet another casualty to the Undead, just like the previous Vandercross patriarch. A tragedy to be sure, but no one would know better. No longer would you be a name, just another statistic. Do you really want that? Or will you accept my help, and survive to see the glorious rebirth of the Sunstrider Dynasty?" Tou''vor finished speaking with another giant gulp of his wineskin, and a shit eating grin.
By this point, Rho''dan had unsheathed his sword, prompting the silent twins to mirror his actions.
Varrus remained silent, lost in thought.
It was na?ve of him to think every Highborn would bend over backwards for his Mana Stones. Moreover, this enmity clearly ran deeper than Varrus had ever imagined. That old hatred could override the threat of extinction.
He was probably going to have to murder this guy. What a waste of time.
The brief silence was broken by the sound of applause.
Decloaking from invisibility, Faedra revealed herself to the room.
"What a wonderful performance, how many times did you have to rehearse that one? I was particularly moved with the oh so subtle threat in between the lines. Proof that age doesn''t equate to wisdom, it only makes us spicier." Faedra said with as much disparagement and mock disdain a spiteful woman could muster.
"Faedra Greathollow, why shouldn''t I gut you where you stand." Tou''vor scowled, and took an extra long swig from his bottomless wine sack.
"Such passion! We truly are a mercurial people once our masks come off! The only reason why he wants to convince you so badly, my cute little son-in-law, is he wants you to remove the wards to the treasury. Otherwise with his talent, he can forget about seeing those fabled contents in his lifetime!!" Faedra sauntered over to Varrus''s side, and lifted a goblet of wine that had been prepared for the table''s occupants beforehand. Then she raised it in salute at all present before splashing its contents across Tou''vor''s face.
The armored elf fumed silently as he directed a look of pure hatred her way.
For her part, Faedra responded with a tiny smirk, and reached to drink from another wine goblet, then dropped some powder from a packet inside. The contents foamed over, and a sinister smell wafted into the meeting room.
Varrus quickly pushed the wine cup closest to him away. He didn''t know what it was like to be poisoned, and even if he could cure it he didn''t want to find out.
"Faedra Greathollow¡" Koren spoke in a whisper.
"Hmm?" Faedra hummed, only for Koren to quickly look away.
"So you''re the slut sleeping around with the Highlord''s, the Madam of Murder Row! The way father spoke of you, I thought you would be 12ft tall and covered in shadow!" Dakar cheerfully slapped the table and exclaimed.
"Boys." Tou''vor hissed in warning.
"Now, now, let the children speak. Besides murder is such an ugly word. We of Augur Row are simply friends interested in sharing secrets to relieve ourselves. A little drama is the spice that relieves this dull thing we call life. That''s not so bad, is it?" Faedra cooed as she tilted her head to the side, and placed a finger on her cheek.
Dakar blushed, and turned away.
"Ha, drama, she says! The mysterious deaths of not one, but three royal children is indeed what some would call drama." Tou''vor spat, voice dripping with scorn.
"Now, now my dear, there never were any witnesses tying me to those little accidents. Anyone could''ve fallen down the stairs. In fact, it happens at least once a decade!" Faedra said, while spreading her palm, and inspecting her nail polish.
"And the King''s sister drowned herself in the well, while you were her only attendant?" Tou''vor growled, slowly drawing his weapon.
"She was a young woman in love with a married man. I could only speak to her in consoling words. It was her choice to go down that path." Faedra smiled magnificently, all the while adopting the most faux innocent expression Varrus had ever seen.
Varrus frowned, and glanced at Rho''dan for confirmation.
The subtle nod was all he needed to know.
Although Varrus had learned of her skills just before the meeting began, the information was still fresh, and had yet to sink in. His mother-in-law was more than she presented herself to be. Not only had she taken out the wife of a prominent noble, but she had apparently also killed royalty! Perhaps her blatant disregard of him earlier was, as she said to Tou''vor, a removal of masks. What use did the playboy Varrus have to offer with his father dead? But when he revealed himself as Varrus the Mana Stone maker, she was quick to use the ties of family to bind them together.
Varrus would have to watch this woman closer. But not too close. He liked his eyeballs where they were, thank you very much!
Maintaining his frown, Varrus kept silent, interested to see how these two ''long time friends'' would roast one another.
"When I came to this accursed place, I had not expected your bloody hands to be behind it. Now it all makes sense. From what my boys told me, your forces were ambushed by well over 10,000 Undead. How could anyone-even a wet behind the ears boy-fail to spot such a large force with the best rangers in all of Azeroth at his disposal? But with a gadabout like you pulling the strings, why, I''m not very surprised." Tou''vor coldly laughed.
A stinging pain hit Varrus in the heart as Tou''vor''s words hit too close to home. He was genuinely caught out with his pants down by a large force. Complacent with his magical sight that allowed him to spot the undead from a mile out, he hadn''t bothered sending out scouts far and wide.
This entire experience was a lesson. One to etch into his memory, and learn from. First, the duplicity of the elves was astounding. When he met them in the future, he would have to assume that any elf was in it for themselves, and might value prestige over the unity and strength of the race. Heck, the arch traitor, Dar''Khan himself betrayed the Highborn all because they wouldn''t make him the chief magister. Elves were untrustworthy across fiction for a reason, and Varrus had to keep that in mind even if he now looked like them. Secondly, his military prowess was severely lacking. He needed to find some skilled strategists and tacticians to surround himself with. Varrus knew he wasn''t the smartest man in the room, but he was smart enough to know that. He would go the George Washington approach to warfare, and seek out talents to fill his ranks.
While Varrus was internalizing to himself, things had grown tense between Faedra and Tou''vor.
Tou''vor and Faedra both took a drink at the same time, and regarded one another with hostility as silence ensued.
Tou''vor''s silence was steely, promising hot violence at the business end of a sharp pointy stick.
Faedra held Tou''vor in utter contempt, as if what she was looking at was nothing more than a lower life form.
In the silence, Varrus noticed Koren seemingly becoming more and more uncomfortable. He kept fidgeting, and his eyes kept shifting around, then meaningfully at Varrus like he wanted him to do something. As if he was pleading for Varrus to take action.
Short of sending them on their way-either as enemies or in a body bag-Varrus didn''t really know how to resolve this conundrum.
The tension was broken when the door to the office opened up, revealing Syra holding a tray of steaming hot, delectable food.
Stomach rumbling, Varrus inhaled, and exhaled the divine scent emanating from the plate. He wanted to eat!
Deciding to ignore the potential fight about to break out, and trusting in his Ebony Flesh, bodyguard, and wife''s reflexes, Varrus relaxed himself, and beamed a smile up at his wife.
"Guess what''s for breakfast!?" Syra cheerfully entered, then placed the tray in front of Varrus.
"Steak and eggs?" Varrus queried as he put a mouthful of scrambled eggs into his mouth.
"So this is the lynx you used to marry into a Highlord''s House. What a shame you chose Vandercross of all people. But I suppose whore mother like whore daughter." Tou''vor sneered with satisfaction in his voice, like he had just served justice to a truly vile criminal.
Just as the eggs were halfway into Varrus''s mouth, he heard Tou''vor''s remarks about his wife. Slowly lowering the fork, Varrus placed it gently on the plate, and wiped his mouth with a napkin.
Before this moment, he was unsure if he should show Tou''vor the door. However, insulting his wife like that? The only way this smug elf was leaving his house was in a body bag!
"Yes, very good! It was dragonhawk steak and eggs!" Syra giddily clapped by the side.
"This insult will not stand. You Vandercross have crossed the last line. I think I''ll be taking those Mana Stones naow-kuah, Ko-Koren??..." Tou''vor stood mouth agape as blood dribbled down his exposed neck. He took a confused step forward, only to stagger-fall into the embrace of his son.
"I am sorry father, but I won''t let you doom our House and our people. The Sunwell must return." Koren shed a tear as his sword dug greedily into Tou''vor''s neck, killing him.
"Koren, what the-!" Dakar stood from his seat in a hurry, yet was stopped in place by Rho''dan''s sword pointing at his neck.
"By my right of succession, I pledge the Knights of the Hawk to ally with House Vandercross." Koren said, then took a knee.
Varrus pursed his lips at the scene. It would seem the anonymous letter he had received earlier in the morning was from Koren. He expected some sort of trap, or trick, or maybe as events unfolded, some plot hatched by Faedra. But reality proved otherwise.
"Oh my, what a rich ending for such a tough man. My friends conducted eight separate attempts, yet Tou''vor was slain not by poison or intrigue, but by a blade to the back! And the deed was done by his own son no less! Despite my lack of involvement, I cannot say I''m displeased. Because this oh this will live on as an especially memorable occasion. I really must thank everyone present for putting on such a remarkable performance!" Faedra covered her mouth, and let out a dry chuckle at Koren''s face fraughtful of pain.
Then suddenly her tone switched to one of tedious seriousness.
"And what makes you think we won''t kill you twin brothers, and take your refugees for our own? After all, who can trust a kinslayer?" Faedra said in a matter of fact tone, as if she was discussing the purchase and sale of groceries.
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
Faedra then Blinked forward, and teleported an enchanted knife into her hand all in one swift motion, placing the blade''s edge an inch away from Koren''s eye.
Crazy, it would seem, ran in the family.
"We are not our father. Highord Vandercross¡Varrus, I saw the glory of your final charge the other day. The power you exhibited. My father didn''t believe me, but I know how strong you truly are! I truly believe you can restore the Sunwell. So please, please let this vile act convince you of my sincerity to your cause!" Koren said with mad fanaticism, his voice starting calm, but reaching a crescendo at the end.
"My, he''s cuter than I thought. I think you should keep him after all. As for the brother¡" Faedra flipped backward, and gracefully landed behind Dakar with the fluidity of an Airbender from the Avatar series.
"Spare him! He can be useful!" Koren was quick to beg.
"Okay, I''ve seen enough. Faedra, enough with the theatrics. You may be a powerful assassin, you may be my mother-in-law, but this is my house. Unless you want me to show you what has made Koren so in awe of me, you will withdraw." Varrus said, and prepared himself to Blink incase Faedra decided to attempt to speed blitz him.
"Oh very well. I must confess, I did want to marry into the House of a Highlord, but Syra chose you. How happy I am that she finally did something right. Come see me you two, when you''re done with your little play date. My friends have informed me that Prince Kael''thas is on the cusp of conquering the eastern half of the capitol, and we will want to be there when he does. Let this frankly pathetic attempt at negotiations serve as an appetizer for the political bloodbath to come." Faedra glanced at her daughter several times as she spoke to Varrus, then disappeared in a cloud of smoke.
Varrus quickly cast Detect Life, and made sure she was truly gone.
''Damn rogues acting like shinobi out here.'' Varrus thought to himself.
So Faedra was some important broad from Murder Row, the place where rogue/warlock trainers gathered in WoW. Lovely thing to have a millenia old professional assassin for a mother-in-law. One that everyone and their mother seemed to fucking recognize! That certainly wasn''t going to bite him in the ass.
Well, at least that explained why Syra was such a killing machine, and could consistently sneak up on him.
He was going to have to question his wife later, but for now, he had to take care of business. Varrus hoped his breakfast would still be warm by the end of this.
He then turned an appraising eye at Koren. It took a lot to commit patricide. Varrus didn''t think he could off either of his parents on Earth even if it concerned the future of his country. As for Koren, he could only hope that Tou''vor was the scummiest elf to ever exist, because this was just brutal. In some regards, medieval politics was scarier than a zombie. You could blow a zombie up with a fireball, but a dagger to the back from those you trust and love was the most sickening of things.
Varrus tried to justify Koren''s actions in his head. Tried to make reasons as to why he should spare a father-killer. Perhaps Koren hated Tou''vor, perhaps he was scared of Varrus and Syra''s power and knew he couldn''t win. Or maybe it was as he truly said, and he was in genuine awe of Varrus'' abilities, and fanatically wished the Sunwell to be reborn.
Any of those could be true, or partly true. The zombie apocalypse genociding Quel''Thalas, and destroying the Sunwell touched more than one elf in the head. Varrus had seen his fair share of crazy and suicidal in the last few days. Perhaps Koren was one of them.
Tapping the table, Varrus slowly chewed on his dragonhawk steak as he thought.
Suppose he did kill the twins right there and now, he could as Faedra put it, claim credit for retaking the entire western capitol. But if he let them live, he could do the same thing, and get a pair of Hero units out of it. One of which was a potential flight risk.
Plus, who was to say if the Knights of the Hawk would disband, or simply get absorbed into the Rangers of Silvermoon? While they served the Vongstag''s, the Order would act as another one of his arms.
What mattered most was the cache Varrus would have as the leader of western Silvermoon. With them under his banner, he would have a much better time negotiating with the eastern half. Keeping that in mind, Varrus had come to a decision.
"Very well, I accept an alliance between our two Houses. Now go secretly cremate your father, and spread rumors that he had died to an undead rogue on the way back to your home." Varrus gave a series of instructions, and traded markers (their word for telephone numbers) so that they could communicate with one another via magic orb, and sent the pair on their way.
He almost sent them to their deaths, or demanded the other brother, Dakar, serve as a hostage. But he didn''t want to go down such a dark path if he didn''t have to. Varrus had no illusions as to the harsh reality of this world, killing that Undead kid still haunted him.
Cliche as it was, he would do anything in his power to keep those close to him safe. Even if it meant going to extremes. He wanted to try to be good and merciful if he could afford to. But if this meeting taught him one thing, it was that some people, like Tou''vor, couldn''t be reasoned with.
Glancing at his guard, Varrus smiled in relief. It was reassuring to know someone other than his wife had his back.
"Thank you for guarding me during this tense negotiation Rho''dan, you may stand outside, or go on patrol." Varrus said with a warm smile.
"Aye." Rho''dan replied in his typical serious tone, and exited the room.
Varrus then gestured for Syra to sit beside him, and took a bite of the eggs.
They were by this point, sadly, cold.
However, Varrus was a man, and wouldn''t want to make his woman disappointed.
"Delicious!" Varrus made sure to hum his enjoyment at the clearly not appetizing eggs to his wife.
"I''m so happy!" Syra gushed, and wrapped herself around Varrus'' side.
Varrus wasn''t totally lying either, the dragonhawk eggs were different from chicken eggs, and actually tasted pretty good. But cold food was cold food.
Moving on to the steak, Varrus nodded along, and complimented it too.
He much preferred breakfast with his wife to politics. If he could survive the next 30-50 years of turmoil, he would enjoy doing this for the rest of his life.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Within the ruins of the Palace of the Sun, Kael''Thas sat within the gloom of his father''s office.
He rubbed his hand gently across the broken blade of Felo''melorn, and let the legendary sword burn his hand slightly just to confirm that he could feel pain.
"So it really is true. This is no dream, but a waking nightmare." Kael''Thas bit out to himself in sadness and anger.
When he received word of the invasion of Quel''Thalas, he was unconcerned. The Elf Gates were an impenetrable barrier that not even the old Horde could not penetrate.
He was confident in his people''s defense, but mostly, he was reluctant to return home and face his father. His fascination with human tales of heroism and culture had seen him ostracized in court. Oh, no one said anything to his face, but the sly smirks, whispers behind his back, and narrowed eyes said it all.
So he left.
Kael''Thas thought time would heal the heartache, that he would eventually come home and greet his father with a hug and a smile.
Instead, that cursed bastard, Arthas Menethil.
Kael''Thas paused and took a deep breath of repressed rage. Just thinking about that monster sent him into a downward spiral of rage and depression.
That bastard somehow breached the Elf Gates after a week of failure. Then with nearly the entire population of Lordaeron zombified and at his back, Arthas smashed through their unprepared defense, and marched straight to the Sunwell.
This crumpled blade that he lovingly held in hand was proof of his father''s demise.
Proof of Kael''Thas''s failure.
"If only I had done more. I have failed you." Kael''Thas spoke to the blade, and clenched his fists.
What happened after his return was nothing but a blurred nightmare.
Arthas corrupted his people''s very lifeblood, the Sunwell was tainted beyond measure.
The countless corpses, and the ashes of his father presented to him with a broken blade.
In truth, he wanted nothing more than to die alongside the Sunwell once he freed the Highborn of its corrupted influence.
To have his last act as a failed prince to be one of good.
Unfortunately, Rommath teleported them out at the last second before it exploded.
And when the elite force of Elves who followed him to the Sunwell shouted their devotion and loyalty to him upon their return, Kael''Thas couldn''t in good conscience deny them their hope.
This new lease on life put things Into perspective. He once cared deeply when he heard the hushed whispers of ridicule just within earshot. About the love he had for Jaina Proudmoore.
But now that only blood and ash remained of his people, he saw them for the fragile magic addicts that they were. That he was.
Even now the pangs of withdrawal sent him into a searing headache.
Pressing his hand onto the enchanted blade once more, Kael''Thas hissed in relief as the mana sickness momentarily left him, and he absorbed the ambient magic in the heat.
Six days had passed since that fateful day. Six days to retake the eastern capital.
Six days to vent on the Undead.
Yet despite the cheers and glorious cheers, Kael''Thas paid attention only to the silent ones. Those who looked blankly into the horizon, or grinded their teeth in repressed wrath.
These ones he understood. All this cheering and talk of reforming their institutions, it infuriated him to no end.
Wise the ancients may be, but their slowness to act was what caught them off guard when the Elf Gates broke!
What they needed was action, not talk! They needed vengeance.
Smoldering flames spread across Kael''Thas harmlessly, and rose from his body. From within an egg hidden in his robe, his Phoenix companion, Al''ar cried in sorrow.
He was so caught up in his sorrow, he barely registered the knocking on his door.
"Enter."
"Ahem, apologies for intruding on Your Majesty, but the wisest and most accomplished have gathered in the throne room. They await your presence." His father''s herald, Pathaleon the Calculator announced.
Kael''Thas lifted his blank gaze from his weapon, and focused on the spiky haired, red headed herald, forcing him to flinch backward.
"Very well, I will be there in a moment." Kael''Thas said dismissively.
Watching the career courtier slink away, Kael''Thas was reminded why he hated the palace so much.
Imagine their surprise when he announced his plan? The mere thought of it sent Kael''Thas mad with laughter.
His insane chuckles echoed along the empty halls as he strolled to the throne room.
The vast palatial hall grew silent as Kael''Thas entered.
His father''s throne sat empty, as did the seven thrones for the members of the Convocation that circled the room. From what the few survivors had told him, the members of the Convocation of Silvermoon had perished due to the treachery of Drathir Dar''Khan. Another name to add to his list.
The rest of the wise sat themselves down below on a large meeting table placed in the middle of the grand chamber.
Kael''Thas glanced at the throne, its elevated position commanded respect, yet Kael''Thas only felt bitter disappointment when he saw it.
Deciding to forgo those honors, Kael''Thas instead chose to sit at the head of the table.
"King Sunstrider, this breach of protocol is highly unusual!" Someone said in protest.
"I am not your king, nor do I intend to hold that mantle. At least not until I have discovered a cure for our people''s sickness." Kael''Thas said with determination.
His fierce glare across the table silenced any would be protests.
"Status report, how goes the mustering of our troops? Are we prepared to launch a campaign on the line of Menethil?" Kael''Thas said, some eagerness entering his typically melancholic voice.
The assembled Elves kept quiet, and glanced at one another waiting for someone to step forward and speak.
Kael''Thas barely withheld a scowl. Politics. How he loathed the institution. If only they would speak their mind, instead of waiting to test the waters. He wasn''t some tyrant, he wouldn''t smite someone for speaking out of turn! What he needed was information! If he was to lead his people out of the dark, then they had to trust him.
Standing up from his seat to speak, Kael''thas recognized a stalwart elf. It was the acting Ranger General, Lor''Themor Theron, former right hand man to Sylvanas. His efforts proved critical in retaking the Royal District. If anyone had information regarding the movements of the enemy, it would be him.
Kael''thas gestured for the man to talk, eager to begin the downfall of his hated nemesis.
"There is some good news, Your Majesty. Word has reached us that the son of Highlord Vandercross, Varrus Vandercross has retaken the western capital. Yet my rangers have yet to fully confirm this information." Lor''themar Theron, leader of the Rangers, spoke up. His general bearing, long white hair, eye patch, and goatee gave him a feeling of masculinity lacking amongst most High Elves.
Kael''Thas drummed his fingers across the table, lost in thought when he heard that name.
Memories of a pair of boys ostracized, and forced to face the wall together came to mind. Kael''Thas''s punishment for his infatuation with humanity, and Varrus for failing his studies.
He hadn''t seen Varrus in more than 40 years, not since he left to join the Kirin Tor.
A small smile graced his lips as he recalled the mischief they had gotten up to. Highlord Vandercross was quite cross with the two of them. His father''s great belly laughs, and Vandercross''s sour expression were a treat to recall.
Such joyful memories of his father only served to darken his mood.
"The prince requested information on Menethil, not about some fanciful rumors." Thaladred the Darkener, one of the Heroes that had joined Kael''Thas in destroying the corrupted Sunwell said harshly as he slapped his large axe onto the table. His crimson plate armor, and horned helmet marked him out as a warrior through and through.
"Apologies Prince Kael''Thas, I thought you would be interested in the security of your kingdom." Lor''themar said, pausing to glance at Thaladred. He then continued to speak. "Word has reached my ear that Menethil is overrunning Dalaran as we speak. A force of Alliance holdouts under the command of Grand Marshal Garrithos is rallying the Humans and Dwarves for a counter offensive." Lor''Themar replied.
"The security of our people is the only thing on my mind, acting Ranger-General. Which is why I seek to obliterate this Scourge infestation once and for all." Kael''Thas said sharply.
The tense meeting was interrupted as the herald, Pathaleon ran into the room, and spoke in haste.
"My Prince, Varrus Vandercross has come to the palace leading a force of hundreds at his back! He is demanding entry by his right as a member of the Convocation, what is your command?" Pathaleon said in a hurry.
Kael''Thas frowned. This was most unlike the friend he recalled.
"The boy Varrus Vandercross?! Hah! He is no member of the Convocation! True, the position is often regarded as a hereditary one, but he lacks the qualifications to sit here. Just last week, he had his father reprimand me, and saw me out of his opera house! His childishness has no place governing over the Quel''Dorei! Send him back." Sanguinar, another accomplished Hero who accompanied Kael''Thas said mockingly. His scarred face, chiseled features, and plate armor placed him as a veteran soldier amongst the typically magically inclined, scholarly members of the wise.
Many mutters and disparaging comments were thrown out at Varrus. None believed him to be a threat, and utterly dismissed his claims.
Kael''Thas wanted to accept Varrus into the room just so he could see the astonished looks on their faces. But if he was going to strike back against Arthas, then he was going to need all the popular support he could get.
"Deny him access. Tell him that the Convocation is dead. We have no need for his services." Kael''Thas declared with a heavy heart.
The Convocation had governed Quel''Thalas alongside his father, and in many cases could override his authority. In a way, he blamed the Convocation for their current predicament. So sure of the power of the Sunwell, they let their years of uncontested hegemony cloud their minds. The world was changing, and Kael''thas would see his people adapt to it.
Although he disdained the title of King, he would not forgo his royal responsibilities and power. Kael''Thas could not bear to suffer such a thorn in his side when he wished to wage all out war with the Undead.
"But Your Majesty, a crowd of thousands have come to follow him! They are cheering his name in the streets! All because of this." Pathaleon pressed forward, and spoke with a hunger in his voice as he presented a large Mana Stone.
"A Mana Stone, so the young pup has revealed the Vandercross fortune. How long does he think he can sustain a population of tens of thousands? This position is untenable." Sanguinar shook his head and chided.
"Agreed. Be on your way Pathaleon. Now then, let''s resume our plan of attack, Lor''Themar, I want your Rangers to-" Kael''Thas began, then paused as his ears twitched.
"Your Majesty?"
"Does anyone else hear music? What a forlorn, yet joyful melody." Kael''Thas muttered as all sorts of emotions began to well up inside of him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
At the urging of his mother-in-law, Varrus had taken her, Syra, the Crossguard and the Vongstag brothers with him, and traveled to the eastern capital.
Along the way, he was close to achieving his quest to clear Silvermoon of the Undead. As it stood, there were less than 1,000 remaining within the city. However, the most depressing thing about this journey was how quiet it was. A from one end of the city to the other was about 25-35 miles. In that time, there was nothing but damage and destruction as far as the eye could see.
Sadly, there were no survivors.
The largest feature of note amongst all this desecration was the Dead Scar.
The Dead Scar was a giant necrotic line of plagued soil. The giant black line was almost a mile wide, and it split the two halves of Silvermoon in half. The Scar ran from the border between Quel''Thalas and the human kingdoms all the way to the sea. It was a sickening and awe inspiring feat of magic, proving just how dangerous Arthas Menethil was.
Along the way, Varrus slew a few hundred mindless zombies and skeletons. Without any leaders to direct the mindless horde, or Hero units to tie him down, he easily soloed the majority of enemies with his increased Spell Power.
The super effective beams of Light energy crisped and turned every Undead he came across into purified piles of ash.
By the time his army made it to the ruined gates on the western side, Varrus couldn''t help but be amazed at Kael''Thas''s efficiency.
At least half of the buildings suffered nothing more than a scratch or a few burn marks. In contrast, the eastern capital was like Berlin after the Soviets had their way with it.
As they drew within a few miles of the palace, the army took a break, and Varrus began to think about the future.
Considering Kael''Thas''s personal skill and charisma, Varrus was seriously considering convincing the prince to stay. In his quest to cure the Highborn''s mana sickness, Kael''Thas would take 15% of the survivors, and incorporate them into his army.
Amongst that force were the strongest and brightest of the Elves. At least a dozen of which were powerful bosses, and many more experienced veterans at Rho''dan''s skill level.
In contrast, all that remained in Silvermoon were maybe 5 boss level Heros, and the dregs of the Rangers, leaving Quel''Thalas a shell of a shell. Without them, Lor''Themar was forced to ally with the Horde. This weakness would lead to Sylvannas threatening Silvermoon. Either join the Horde on a campaign to Northrend against the Lich King, or die. The crazy bitch had to be stopped. For that, Varrus would need all the help he could get.
On the other hand, if Varrus sent Kael''Thas off on his quest for revenge, he would have much to gain politically, and would practically have no rivals for the Highborn''s hearts and minds. At the same time however, the prince would become more and more deranged under Fel corruption, and eventually pledge himself body and soul to the demons.
Varrus'' desire for leadership, and concern for his new people''s future warred in his heart. He didn''t have any easy answer, and was still uncertain on what he should do.
Did he truly have to become the sole leader of the Highborn at the expense of his entire race? Wasn''t he just disparaging Tou''vor earlier for playing politics when his people were on the line?
Not only that, but he would be throwing away his only friend and ally outside of his wife and mother-in-law if he let Kael go on his mad quest for revenge.
Syra seemed to see his stress, and squeezed his hand for comfort.
That was right, as long as he had her by his side, all would be okay.
Varrus sighed as he decided to let go of ultimate authority. He would attempt to convince Kael to remain with Silvermoon. However, that didn''t mean he was giving up on the Convocation. If he could reinstitute and become the leading voice in what was essentially the Senate/Parliament of most Earth countries, then Varrus'' desire for authority would be sated.
At the end of the day, what mattered was the strength of the people. The stronger and more united they were, the better odds they faced when the likes of the Old Ones or the Burning Legion struck.
While Varrus was brooding, he received a tap on the nose.
Looking up from the ground, Varrus blinked his eyes as a fair finger tapped him on the nose once more.
Varrus smiled weakly at his wife, to which she flicked him on the ear, then smiled widely at him. Her bright white smile reinvigorated Varrus somewhat, and he rolled his eyes at her childish antics.
Syra suddenly came in close, leaving Varrus without enough time to blink. She stared him deep in the eyes, gold meeting blue.
It felt like he was trapped in time as he was mesmerized by her good looks and cheerful attitude.
His heart beat increased, and he felt sweat on his palm. He had made love with this woman a dozen times yet she still made him crazy.
He opened his mouth to lean in for a kiss, then felt a pain in his stomach, and the air swiftly expelled from his lungs.
Falling to his knees, Varrus looked at Syra questioningly, only to be met with her admittedly attractive and plump backside.
"Stop staring at the ground all day, it''ll make you depressed. Maybe this will help keep your priorities straight." Syra said over her shoulder, then promptly collapsed onto Varrus'' chest, forcing him to the ground.
Varrus was embarrassed as he overheard a few of his House Guard snickering just a stones throw away.
He moved to get up, but Syra pushed down.
"I''m not going to eat you my Lord, if that''s your fear. That''s for later tonight." Syra huskily whispered, then placed her hand underneath his robe, and gently fondled him at an angle that no one else could see.
"You''re, u-unfair." Varrus harshly whispered and felt himself squirming in her grasp.
"Ah-ah, no moving, otherwise my great and magnificent man will embarrass himself in front of the boys. We wouldn''t want that, would we now?" Syra cooed as the palm of her hand began to glide up and down Varrus'' shaft.
Biting his tongue, Varrus felt his erection spring into her grasping hand. His breaths came in shallow, ragged gasps, and he felt himself getting close.
"Mnn, go win in that palace my love. You know what awaits." Syra suddenly released her grip on Varrus'' head, then sauntered away like nothing had happened.
''Dammnit!'' Varrus thought to himself as his eyes snapped open, and he was greeted with his wife''s voluptuous ass prancing away.
Fuck, but that woman knew how to motivate!
Fugue over, Varrus was dead set on killing that damn meeting!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Standing atop a raised wagon, like some sort of parade float, Varrus waved down at the confused crowd of people as his guards tossed down handfuls of Mana Stones.
Honestly, he felt like an idiot waving his hand back and forth, and smiling like some plastic celebrity. But it seemed to be great for his reputation.
It was Faedra''s idea to help spread his popularity, and although it was embarrassing, Varrus was looking forward to helping the Highborn manage their addiction.
"The Convocation has not abandoned you! Rejoice, rejoice in House Vandercross''s gift to you!" Guards shouted out.
Listless Elves who did nothing but stared blankly at the ground lost their lethargy as Mana Stones found their way onto their laps.
People were going crazy like sharks at a feeding frenzy.
Varrus smiled to himself. At least the average person was still moved by his Mana Stones. It was the old, calculative monsters that he had to be on guard for.
By the time they reached the end of the street, a crowd of tens of thousands had swarmed behind them. They pushed and shoved so much that the Crossguard were barely able to maintain order. These people were like war-torn refugees receiving food from the UN, they were desperate.
Frankly speaking, Varrus pitied these people. Average civilians just living their lives suddenly forced into dire straits. When he saw them begin to regain their coloring and some of them laughed, wept or shouted their thanks, that was what made doing this all worth it. He had to admit, it felt good to be loved.
Varrus just had to make sure he didn''t become complacent. The people loved Julius Caesar too, yet his fate was well known. If he was going to navigate this world, he would have to keep aware. People were fickle, and while he loved the sound of his name being chanted from the streets, he couldn''t afford to let it get to him. These ardent supporters might one day become his harshest of critics. But for now, he allowed himself to bask in the praise, knowing that this good deed would cement himself as a major figure in Highborn society.
As the procession continued, they eventually made it to the Palace of the Sun.
Similar in size to Versailles, the Palace of the Sun was a monumental structure, and took up a full quarter of the Royal District.
According to Faedra, the oldest and most accomplished Highborn had been summoned to discuss the future of Quel''Thalas.
While he wasn''t invited, he was certain his accomplishments would earn him a seat at the table.
Taking a deep breath to steady his nerves, Varrus approached the grand doors to the Palace of the Sun, only to be stopped by a squadron of Spellbreakers. They were the elite royal guards, trained in the ways of silencing mages, and redirecting magical attacks.
"Halt! I recognize you Varrus Vandercross, playboys have no right to attend his Majesty''s meeting! Begone!" A man Varrus recognized as the King''s herald said as he shooed Varrus away.
"Not even for an old friend? Oh how you wound us Pathaleon. It would truly be a shame if someone were to discover a recording of a certain someone embezzling thousands of gold coins from a certain vault, wouldn''t you say?" Faedra purred as she slinked out from behind Varrus and Syra.
"F-Faedra!" Pathaleon stuttered, and pulled at his collar.
"Well big man, are you going to step aside, or are you going to force us?" Faedra sauntered up to him, and lightly caressed him by the cheek.
"You, you stay right there! I will request an audience with His Majesty!" Pathaleon turned around and ran so fast, Varrus was left flabbergasted.
Ten minutes passed, and Pathaleon had yet to return.
"It would seem we are not welcome here. What do you intend to do Varrus?" Faedra questioned in a tone dripping with schadenfreude.
Syra wordlessly unsheathed her buster sword, causing the royal guards to tense.
"No one disrespects my husband." Syra muttered. Bright holy energies began to furiously swirl around her. Such was its intensity, some of the ground was torn up, and turned into rubble.
Varrus hugged her from behind, diminishing her wrath.
"We could throw a party?" Dakar, quiet and sullen this entire time due to the murder of his father, spoke up.
Varrus turned to look at him like he was the dullest block of wood amongst a pile of tinder.
The heck was throwing a party going to do?
"Yes, the idea has merit. The tens of thousands behind us would make so much noise, the so called wise and experienced would be forced to investigate the commotion." Faedra tapped her chin, and nodded along at the idea.
"A party? We lost so many people, the last thing we need is a party." Varrus countered.
Were these people insane!? Then again, he distinctly remembered the Highborn gathered in his ballroom, sipping on wine while the world was on fire outside his walls.
Highborn society was different from that of Humans. Perhaps social functions were their way of coping?
"We never danced at our wedding." Syra said, and adopted a pitiful, childish look.
Varrus'' heart melted, and he stroked his wife''s hair.
"Fine. But only for you." Varrus barely bit out, only to feel a tight embrace across his ribs, driving the air from his lungs.
"So many people will watch us dance, oh how exciting! The whole of Silvermoon will know that you are mine!" Syra madly giggled.
"Very well, a dance needs music, and I have something in mind."
Varrus sent some guards to gather some instruments, then enchanted them to play a melody.
Holding Syra tight, Varrus began to dance to the music in a slow and rhythmic cadence.
She stared him in the eyes, and looked down with a bashful smile. Tears streamed down her face, her complexion became radiant.
Varrus leaned down, and kissed her on the lips.
"Why so sad, My Love?" Varrus questioned.
"I never thought we would dance. It has been my girlhood dream to do this with my husband, to dance with you! I am so, so very happy now!" Syra gushed as a fresh wave of tears trailed down her cheeks, and tickled Varrus''s face.
"Is it everything you ever imagined?" Varrus whispered as he gave Syra a twirl.
"It''s better." Syra replied as she clutched Varrus close, and let herself be guided round and round.
Varrus was struck by her beauty, and completely forgot about politics, the war with the Undead, and all his woes.
Moving to the beat of the music, and gliding gracefully with Syra in hand was all that mattered.
In this one, blazing moment of passionate, innocent love, there were only two beings in all of Azeroth.
Him and his wife.
Chapter 6
Quel''Thalas, a land once golden orange in a perpetual state of autumn, was now wrought with dark clouds due to the destruction of the Sunwell.
Light drops of rain began to fall upon Helios, though he paid it no mind.
All was lost.
The kingdom, his squad, and worst of all, his oh so loving, eternally supportive wife. After centuries of trying, she was finally pregnant. Yet when the call to arms spread through the land, she was the first to volunteer.
Bold, strong, compassionate, she was his Sunwell.
She was with them now, raised into undeath before his very eyes. Her cold uncaring gaze and snarl of savagery was so alien, it sent him sprawling in horror.
Countless died, yet nothing prepared him for this. He couldn''t take it.
He ran.
The cries of betrayal from his unit rang hollow as he escaped the truth.
After an indeterminate amount of time, he found himself in Sunstrider Square staring blankly at his feet.
One thought constantly pounded itself within his mind.
''If I''m not here anymore, everything will be better for everyone.''
He had been psyching himself up for the last six days, yet he couldn''t go through with it.
And now when the wise had finally gathered, a disturbing distraction presented itself.
Hellos looked on at the dancing display taking place in front of the Palace of the Sun, and it sickened him.
He gripped the green cloak of his fallen lover, trembling in rage. The dried blood dyed dark crimson was awash with his mournful tears.
For the past six days, Helios heard the haunted banshees screams whenever he tried to relax. When he closed his eyes, all he saw was her bloodstained face presenting itself to him as she gasped wordlessly with a blade in between her ribs. The sound of an endless twang of bows couldn''t escape his mindscape as the endless tide monstrosities came.
Then the mana sickness came. He and what few survivors there were began to turn unhealthily pale. Their skin dried, and the hunger pangs ate away from within like a parasite digging its way out.
He had already seen a dozen people jump from the palace. Helios had considered joining them¡but then he had heard a commotion that sent him into a rage.
Half an hour ago, soldiers riding carriages tossed something miraculous into the crowd of desperate, sick people.
Midnight black hair covered his eyes as he stared down at the glowing blue rock sitting at his feet. He desperately wanted to pick it up, and absorb it for all its worth. Yet a part of him was disgusted for even considering feeding this newfound addiction.
But the hunger was insidious.
When he first laid eyes upon one, his heart rate skyrocketed, and his eyes dilated. He almost bashed in the skull of a fellow Ranger while he scrambled on the ground like some boar hungrily feeding upon its slop.
When he finally came to and his hunger pangs barely subsided, he was greeted with that pompous, self serving asshole''s smiling visage.
For centuries, Helios had been stuck at the rank of Lieutenant within the Farstriders. He was amongst the elite of the elite. The special forces that all Quel''Dorei strive for. He wasn''t some mere hobbyist playing dress up like so many so-called Rangers. He was damn good at his job, and after sweat, pain, and plenty of Troll blood, he was due a promotion.
Drunk on his impending ascension, Helios attended a play with his friends, as was customary.
When the spawn of Vandercross pranced about the stage, proud as a peacock strutting its stuff, acting out the smiting of some foul demon, Helios had seen enough.
Most actors in Highborn society reenacted the deeds of their ancestors, or actions they had personally taken part of. But Vandercross crossed a terrible threshold. Varrus reenacted Helios'' very own father, and his tragic sacrifice during the Sundering. He turned his father''s devotion to their people into a comedy!
Helios''s entire being was wholeheartedly put into the Farstriders, to exterminate any and all threats to the Highborn. Whether it be man, beast, child or elderly, all fell to his blade in the name of Quel''Thalas!
And Vandercross slapped him across the face, insulting his very reason for existence!
He couldn''t help himself, and had to say something, to speak out against this abomination! Hellos had jumped up the stage, and backhanded the whelp to the ground.
Of course, Helios was struck down from behind by the coward''s guards while he stood in triumph over the pretty boy.
And like that, not only was he denied his due, but he was demoted to sergeant due to the corrupt father and son duo.
Hundreds of years of work, merits and countless sleepless days. Gone with the snap of some old bastard''s fingers.
Seeing Vandercross''s smiling face, and energetic wave, why, it sent Helios'' blood to a raging boil!
Shifting his gaze left and right, Helios picked out several others with less than satisfied faces. Tell tale signs such as frowns, clenched fists, and grinding teeth, all expressions that pointed out a simmering resentment for Silvermoon''s most notorious playboy.
Gripping her cloak one more time, Helios felt emboldened to act. Either he ended it all, and finally found peace, or he could be the spark that ignited change.
"Hear me brothers and sisters, I am Farstrider Lieutenant Helios! Like you, I have lost everything to this curse. This vile curse that our leaders had been well aware of for a month before it entered our fair city!
We''ve been ruled by the same people for nearly 7,000 years, I''m sick of it! Look at what their ineptitude has wrought! I''ve fought against the Trolls my entire life! Never once did we free ourselves of that menace, and now a Scourge of plague and undeath has visited our lands!
Without the Sunwell, without our immortality, we are lost! All the while those same nobles calling themselves to be ''the wise'' hole themselves inside the palace, and this noble brat flaunts his wealth in an attempt to buy us off!
We''ve all known the name Vandercross, and his penny pinching policies. Many of us are also aware of his spawn! The very same boy who bribed his way into no less than 1,000 plays, and ruined several prominent actresses'' reputations! Are we to believe such a child truly was a powerful archmage all along?! He''s not fooling anyone, we see through his weak act! Therefore, we must seize the Mana Stones! Without them, we will die!"
"More stones, I need more mana!" One man charged the guards with reckless abandon.
Like a dam bursting, he was soon joined by a dozen more people.
Helios gripped the bloodied cloak one more time, and joined them.
Varrus gaily twirled Syra round and round, his heartbeat began to race as he drank in her figure.
"Magnificent." Varrus breathlessly said as their dance became more and more acrobatic.
Syra opened her mouth to say something, but whatever she was going to say was interrupted as she violently moved Varrus to the side.
The sudden shift in momentum had Varrus witness a series of fireballs and magic arrows explode where he had just stood.
"Enemy attack!" Rho''dan called, and rushed forward.
Varrus immediately got into game mode and prepared his Restoration spells to take out some Undead.
However, much to his shock, his assailants were 18 loving, breathing High Elves.
The light spell died on his fingertips, and he hesitated. Did these people want his Mana Stones? Did he really have to kill these few people in front of a crowd of thousands?
There had to be some misunderstanding.
"Non-lethal, I want them alive!" Varrus shouted at his guards as they began to engage the enemy.
Blinking 20ft above the combat zone, Varrus cast Wind Running: Grants the ability to sprint across thin air and immunity to fall damage for 30 seconds.
Walking across the sky, Varrus began to shoot out the spell Paralyze left and right.
The assailants dropped like a sack of hammers, and were quickly tied up by his guards.
However, one attacker, a ranger, was impossible for Varrus to hit with his single target spell.
The ranger possessed incredible agility, and easily dodge rolled each and every one of Varrus''s attacks. Furthermore, he retaliated with dozens of magic arrows in just a few seconds.
Each arrow was surprisingly fast, powerful, and accurate.
When Varrus Blinked to evade them, the archer seemed to predict exactly where he would arrive, and Varrus was greeted with six arrows straight to his Ebony Flesh.
Thankfully he had improved his spell power with his enchantments, because the arrows exploded in a shower of arcane power, significantly tearing into Varrus''s defense.
All that happened in less than a minute, yet was enough time for Syra to knock any who weren''t paralyzed unconscious with the flat of her buster sword.
When she got to the archer, he tried to pull a long sword, only to have it knocked from his grasp, and have his teeth knocked out by a series of punches to the chin.
Syra then kneed him in the stomach, and forced him to his knees.
When Varrus approached, Syra placed her giant sword onto the archer''s neck, and glanced at him, silently asking for his opinion.
Varrus shook his head in the negative, then smiled in thanks. He then took in the dark haired assailant-a rarity amongst a primarily blonde race-and based on his skills, took him to be the leader of this group.
"Why do you want me dead? Was it for the Mana Stones? Did someone send you?" Varrus said as he roughly lifted the man by his long hair.
"You, hah, you don''t even know who I am, do you?" The man struggled to speak through bloodied lips, coughing up blood in the process.
Varrus quickly searched his memory, and for the life of him, he couldn''t place this face to anyone he knew.
"So I''m not even a footnote? Figures, hah!" The man said between fits of coughing. "I''m not some assassin or political rival. Just some nobody with a dead dream, a cursed wife and no future so to speak. Just do it, kill me and be over with it." The man spat spite filled blood down onto Varrus''s boots.
Syra wordlessly kneed him in the forehead, knocking him onto his back. The snap of his neck, and skull hitting the pavement was not a pretty noise.
He simply grinned crimson up at them.
Varrus frowned. Was this truly a random attack? Or was it as he said, he was a man on his last string with nothing to lose?
"Do it, coward." The man taunted.
Yet to Varrus, it almost seemed like he was staring out at nothing, not even speaking to Syra or him at all.
A moment of silence passed between the two of them, and Varrus slowly drew his blade, placing it upon his assailant''s neck.
"If I''m to do this, I at least need to know your name."
"What difference does it make?" The man said listlessly.
"I''ve never killed a person before. The least I could do is remember this moment, and take it as a life lesson." Varrus replied grimly.
"Really?" Helios snarked.
Varrus replied with silence. His grip firmed on the hilt of his sword, and he slowly nodded.
While he had no qualms with offing those who wanted him dead, it was one thing to do it in the heat of the moment, and another with his enemy literally on his knees and at his mercy. Besides, Helios was just so broken, it didn''t feel right to kill someone who obviously was doing a ''suicide by cop'' type of maneuver.
The whole situation was just sad, and almost kind of pathetic. Despite the threat to his life, Varrus couldn''t help but pity this obviously damaged man. How many more of the Highborn were just like him, but kept it repressed? It wasn''t so surprising that the leadership amongst the Blood Elves canonically resorted to brainwashing their population when PTSD was such a serious issue.
"What an eye opening experience before my demise! Not only is the child of Vandercross an accomplished mage, but he''s surprisingly innocent! Very well, I am Helios, remember me as the first kill of your life!" Helios said with some renewed energy, and went to plunge himself upon Varrus''s blade.
Varrus was caught off guard, and failed to retract his blade in time.
"There is hope for you yet My Sunwell." Helios muttered to himself as he collapsed in a puddle of his own blood.
Radiant energies escaped Varrus''s hand as he cast Infinite Light: Stream of healing energy that diffracts between targets, healing 150 points per second.
Wounds coagulated, and Helios was soon gasping in air as his chest and lungs were repaired.
"Why? Why would you bring back the man who tried to kill you? You may not know me Varrus Vandercross, but I know you, and I can''t stand the sight of you." Helios said in fury as he tried to charge at Varrus.
Varrus saw through Helios''s sloppy form, and knew he wasn''t seriously trying to kill him.
Raising a hand, Varrus tossed out a Paralyze, and watched as Helios collapsed to the ground.
"For someone who doesn''t want to live anymore, you sure are energetic. Do you truly hate me? Or is that self hatred an excuse you use to take your hurt out on others? Would the person who owned that cloak want to see you like this?"
"Shut up! You spoiled playboy! You know nothing of me." Helios shouted from the ground.
"No? You tell me about your cursed wife, and grip onto that ranger cloak rather tightly for a man who doesn''t care. I think you do have something to live for, and I think I can help." Varrus said in pity.
"Do not mock me Vandercross. You may have hidden your talent as a mage well, but you cannot convince me to believe in your change of character. You''re better off ending me here and now to save yourself the future dagger in your back." Helios bitterly scoffed.
"Maybe. Maybe I am the same foolish playboy at heart. Maybe it''s because of that, that I want to believe in my people''s spirit. No matter how powerful I am as a mage, or flush with riches beyond ken, I am but one light in a sea of turbulence. I cannot rebuild Quel''Thalas alone. If I am to act as a leader, I will need people like you, people with differing areas of expertise, and opinions to help center my decisions. So I ask you, are you truly willing to throw it all away here and now? To let your loved one rot away, trapped within her husk, silently losing her sanity as she is forced to commit atrocities against her own people?¡± Varrus entreated passionately.
The death and destruction he had witnessed over the last few days had haunted him. He had no savior complex, but if he was to take a life, it would be on his terms, not those of a damaged, suicidal man.
Another moment of silence descended between the two.
"Why do you torture me Vandercross." Helios said weakly as he sat himself upright as the paralysis faded.
Varrus looked off into the horizon as he recalled the people he knew who had lost themselves in the fight against depression. He had wanted to do more, to be better, but he was of no help in the end.
"Because if I can make a difference, even if it''s a little one, I want people to live a happier life. Why do you think I engage in these plays, or write fanciful stories? For power, money or influence? No, I am not that talented. I did those things because if even one person smiled or felt something from my performance, then I did something good. Knowing that I helped relieve their boredom, that I helped them escape for but a moment in this endless slog we call life. That, Helios, makes it all worth it." Varrus smiled to himself, and felt Syra clutch onto the hem of his robe in reassurance.
"I hope you truly mean those flowery words Vandercross¡I will follow you for now, at least until we free my wife. So long as you conduct yourself with integrity Varrus Vandercross, you shall have my bow. But that doesn''t mean I''m one of your House Guards, I''m simply monitoring you!" Helios slowly picked himself up, and sloppily saluted.
"We will avenge your wife, Helios. We will avenge all of our people." Varrus said with steel.
"Ah-hem, His Majesty bids you enter." Pathaleon coughed into his hand, and said from behind.
"Oh, finally changed his mind?" Varrus grinned.
"Yes, yes, so long as you quit it with this racket, the wise shall accept your request for a meeting." Pathaleon said dismissively. "Now make haste, His Majesty is very busy, and doesn''t have time to waste!" Pathaleon snapped, then twirled around to take the lead.
"Faedra, Syra, Rho''dan, Helios, Kaden, follow me." Varrus turned to his companions, and motioned them to follow.
"Ah, there does seem to be a problem here. I was explicitly told to bring Vandercross inside. I am sorry, but you''ll have to make this journey alone." Pathaleon said over his shoulder.
"They are with House Vandercross, do you dare deny a Highlord entry into the Palace of the Sun?" Varrus questioned with a hint of danger in his voice.
"The Spellbreakers will silence any spells you dare cast in an instant. Do you truly wish to go down this path?" Pathaleon hissed.
"My mistake, I forgot their invitation." Varrus slapped his palm upon his forehead as if he was some dunce.
"Invitation?" Pathaleon looked at Varrus quizzically.
Varrus held up his hand in reply, and focused on the Telekinesis spell. Testing his newfound spell power buff, Varrus twisted and pulled his hand backward in a sudden jerk once he found his target.
Shrieking metal rang sharply causing many Elves present to wince.
Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.
"My ticket." Varrus gestured toward the portcullis floating midair, then yeeted it into a destroyed section of wall.
Varrus clapped Pathaleon on the back, causing the man to flinch, and then he walked past the seemingly paralyzed guards, companions in tow.
"You can''t just, I mean! Guards, stop them!" Pathaleon raged and sputtered.
Yet no one stood forth to oppose them.
"My, my, I truly won the slots with my son-in-law, hmm, wouldn''t you say Pathaleon?" Faedra cooed as she sauntered by.
"Witch." Pathaleon muttered hatefully.
"You know, I heard King Anasterian turned his last herald into a newt when he was caught recording private information in his journal. You wouldn''t happen to know where I could find such a journal, would you?" Faedra whispered conspiratorially.
"I haven''t the faintest clue." Pathaleon grumbled as he turned away in a brisk hurry.
"That''s too bad, I thought for sure I knew of one under the floorboards at the jewelry store. It was a green Hawkstrider leather-bound book if I recall." Faedra tittered behind her hand, then moved on.
"Yes. Then I shan''t be keeping you, I have official business to take care of in the city. Faedra. Highlord Vandercross, Lady Vandercross." Pathaleon nodded at them, then promptly about faced.
Varrus looked on, impressed. If they went with this from the start, they would''ve skipped out on all the nonsense.
He then felt a distinct threat of danger in his arm as his wife''s nails began to claw into his forearm. Surprisingly, even with his increased toughness, she still managed to make him feel some pain. Varrus truly married an apex predator amongst apex predators.
"Ahem, let us be off." Varrus pointedly ignored both women, and took the lead.
"Typical Vandercross politics." Helios spat.
"Don''t be so disrespectful, he''ll save our people from this darkness." Koren said with near fanatical worship.
Helios muttered something about crazies under his breath, then moved to catch up.
Rho''dan brought up the rear, and exchanged nods with some familiar faces within the royal guard.
As they approached a set of large double doors leading to the interior of the palace, Varrus paused.
He had many negative opinions on Kael''Thas for his actions. How he creeped on a teenage Jaina, let Garithos treat him like a whipping dog, how he simped for Illidan, then turned into Kil''Jaeden''s pawn.
For a man with such a strong drive, he was rather easily bullied around.
In effect, Kael''Thas was the Elven equivalent of a moody teenager forced to lead a species on the brink of destruction.
Varrus honestly felt bad for the guy. Especially because of his dual sets of memories. From what he could remember, Kael''Thas was the only person to have ever shown Varrus kindness as a child. In a court of vipers, and centuries old machinations, Kael''Thas was a friend he could rely upon, and the only one who would speak to him not because he was the son of an important politician, but because they were friends.
It was a surreal feeling knowing that he was about to walk into that room, and be on opposite sides of the political spectrum from his only friend.
Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Varrus turned toward his companions, and steeled himself.
"Alright people, this is it. The future of our people will be decided in that room. Let''s do this." Varrus channeled telekinesis, and flicked the giant double doors leading into the palace open with a bang.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Kael''Thas barely restrained himself from drumming his fingers across his armrest in boredom as the assembly discussed the logistics behind supporting the humans.
If he could only speed things up and exact vengeance faster¡
It was then when the meeting had reached its driest point that the doors to the room slammed open, and a group of five marched their way in.
Finally, some action.
Several warriors and mages rose from their seats, weapons and spells ready to be unleashed.
"At ease." Kael''Thas said with a wave of his hand as he recognized the leader of this contingent.
A moment of hesitation ensued, before they sat back down.
Kael''Thas assessed his old friend with some nostalgia. He never would have imagined Varrus to have hidden himself so deeply. He wondered if he knew him at all, that the playboy attitude could all be a facade.
If so, Kael''Thas felt that he had lost one more connection to this land and his people. If not for the fury of his father''s demise, he would happily be sitting upon the Council of Six at Dalaran. Yet here he was, amongst the wise.
Whatever the truth was, Kael''Thas was happy to see a familiar face. Hopefully their friendship could last the test of time.
Varrus had such a self righteous look upon his face, his eyes scanned the hall before finally setting upon him. Kael''Thas slowly inclined his head. He eagerly awaited what Varrus was going to say, and how the old wiseman would react.
"You look like shit, Kael." Varrus said in obvious concern.
Kael closed his eyes, and smiled.
This was the feeling he was looking for. Ever since he left for Dalaran, he hadn''t had someone care about his personal wellbeing once.
It was a long 40 years.
"You haven''t been crying alone in the ruins of your father''s study, have you? You''re such an emo." Varrus teased and said with a chuckle.
Kael''Thas snapped his eyes open, and saw the same smirking face that boasted to him about his mischief while they faced the wall.
Varrus hadn''t changed one bit.
"I must''ve been away from Quel''Thalas too long. I know not what this ''emo'' is, but I am certain this derogatory slang is fit for none other than gutterspawn." Kael said with a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
"Sharp words Your Highness, yet it is not I fouling up your gutters!" Varrus said theatrically.
Kael leaned forward in anticipation. His friend always had a flair for the dramatic.
"Prince Kael''Thas, surely we have entertained this concerned citizen enough? After all, we have all seen his performances before, there is little substance to be had here. We mist focus on bringing the fight to the Scourge" Sanguinar said in a dry tone.
Kael leaned back, his countenance lost its glow. Yes, he had his priorities. No childhood nostalgia could take place over the revenge of his people.
"Continue Sanguinar." Kael reluctantly nodded.
"Thank you, Your Majesty." Sanguinar half bowed before turning to Varrus.
"The wise appreciate your timely assistance in the west, and acknowledge your gift of Mana Stones. Your contributions will not be left out of our considerations as we plan the next phase of our people''s survival. You have our thanks, Varrus Vandercross." Sanguinar said, and began to gently clap, which led to a light round of applause.
Once the applause ended, Sanguinar sat back down, and continued with the meeting. "Now about the issue of food, what information do you have upon our granaries, Lady Liadrin?"
Kael sucked in a breath as he watched the smile on his friend''s face wilt and wane.
Reality hurt, Kael knew that much every time he stared at his broken blade. But the inevitable was something they all had to face head-on some day.
Varrus had reportedly retaken the western capitol, but information was in high demand, yet in pitifully low supply. For all they could tell, only a few dregs of Arthas'' army marched upon the west. That was hardly a defining achievement compared to blowing up the Sunwell, and retaking the seat of government.
Lady Liadran awkwardly opened and closed her mouth as she glanced between Sanguinar and Varrus, seemingly unsure of what to say.
"Go ahead my dear, this is a civilized place, there is no fear of reprisal, and no Convocation to muzzle your mouth. We serve the sovereign." Sanguinar said, and raised a glass of wine in praise to Kael.
"To Prince Kael''Thas!" Several other attendees raised their own goblets, and shouted.
"Seven thousand years of tradition, and you seek to sweep it all under the rug Sanguinar? Do you even know why the Convocation formed?" Varrus stepped forward, and raised his voice.
"As one of the founding citizens of Silvermoon, I would know better than most, I imagine." Sanguinar was quick to retort.
"Then you are aware of our people''s shortcomings! Seven Houses grand, seven trades command. Enchanting, golems, alchemy, forestry, arcane, holy, and Mana Stones. Each of these seven heroes drove back the Trolls, and created the very basis for which this society stands." Varrus said, impassioned as he strode around the floor.
"In the process creating a system of crockery, and malfeasance. Anasterian was the greatest king to grace these lands, yet it was the Convocation''s treachery that had him cut down in his prime. Once upon a time, those heroes were a necessity, even now, our people need men and women like them. But you, young Vandercross, are not that Elf." Sanguinar rapped his knuckles upon the great table, and shook his head.
Varrus smiled, and Kael knew that whenever that look appeared on his face, mischief was soon to follow. He couldn''t help but feel some excitement well up inside of him once more.
"Mana Stones, my dear Sanguinar, you are familiar with the item in question, no?"
"Whatever performance you think you are putting on, stop. We know you have drained the Vandercross vault dry. There is no point in continuing with this charade, spare us your diatribe, and leave us. There is much work to be done, and we have no time to spend on your petty politicking." Sanguinar waved his hand, and covered his forehead like he was tired beyond belief.
"You think these crystals come from my family vault?" Varrus had a curious expression of bemused bafflement upon his face as he asked.
"Then allow me to disabuse you of that notion." Varrus happily said as he raised his hands, and began to wave them about.
Several more Elves tensed, yet Sanguinar scoffed.
"Enough with the parlor tricks, guards, see them out!" Sanguinar ordered.
A dozen royal guards moved close, yet when they were no more than 10ft away, they paused in their steps. They all seemed to eye Syra with extra precaution.
"Are you disobeying a command?" Sanguinar said with incredulity, a tinge of violence entered his voice.
"We obey His Majesty. Only the full vote of the Convocation could rouse us otherwise." One guard curtly replied.
Sanguinar looked to Kael, but Kael ignored him in favor of the glowing Mana Stone that appeared in Varrus''s hands.
"Amazing." Kael said in awe as his hunger pangs began to hit a new high as he took in the bluish rock, roughly the size of a man''s thigh, composed entirely of pure mana.
"My gift, to you." Varrus walked forward, and presented the Mana Stone to Kael.
Unable to contain himself, Kael held the Mana Stone in his lap, and stroked it lovingly.
"Your Majesty."
"Your Majesty."
"Hm?" Kael blinked and saw Sanguinar looking at him in concern.
The royal guard had drawn their blades, and were in a standoff with Varrus''s entourage.
"Your Majesty, are you okay?" Sanguinar said.
"I''m fine." Kael bit out.
He then closed his eyes, and pulled on the mana within the stone.
Unchecked energy began to pulse through his veins. His pores took on a new glow, and his very being began to feel reborn. All sickness and malays were pushed to the back of his mind as ecstacy poured into his system.
The stone began to wither and crack under his ministrations. It slowly lost its luster, and turned dim before turning into a pile of ash.
He sighed, hoping it would last just a little longer, as he was almost topped off.
Kael had hoped his friend had come to the palace with something in hand. Hoped that he wouldn''t have to send his only friend home in disappointment. Kael valued his friendship greatly, but his responsibilities to his people took precedence. However, Varrus had delivered, and now he could publicly show his appreciation!
Kael stood from his seat, and walked forward to embrace Varrus with a tight hug. He shook, and almost cried. There was finally a source of mana for his people! The weight of finding a replacement for the Sunwell had eased up just enough that Kael could get some breathing room to think! With Varrus at home staving off their peoples'' hunger, he would be free to seek Arthas''s head!
"You are a Hero my friend! Let none say that you have no place amongst the wise. Come, Varrus, take a seat!" Kael flexed his rejuvenated energy, and conjured a seat next to his, then sat Varrus down upon it.
Varrus had a stunned look, and was muttering something to himself about an Adept level stone or some such in shock.
Kael couldn''t help but chuckle. It was a rare occasion when he could surprise his friend.
"You''re not the only one who has improved, my powers have more than doubled since the last time we met, Highlord." Kael puffed himself up in pride, and jabbed at his friend at the same time.
"More like quadrupled." Varrus muttered sarcastically.
"Mana Stone creation, surely creating an item of that value is quite taxing without the Sunwell. You wouldn''t happen to be able to reproduce this feat, would you?"
"Sanguinar." Kael said in warning.
He had understood his faithful advisor''s concern, but now that Kael had made his stance clear, Sanguinar''s intense dislike of Varrus was beginning to irk him.
"Apologies, Your Majesty, but this is a sensitive matter regarding the future of our people. Should this indeed be a one off event requiring long times recharging, then there is no point in continuing this affair." Sanguinar bowed his head.
Kael hesitated, unsure of what to say.
"No, he is right, Kael. I''ll make more right now, enough that everyone present can have a feel for themselves. Seeing is believing afterall." Varrus chuckled, then began to consecutively conjure up Mana Stone after Mana Stone.
After a time, they were all passed around, and absorbed by those present.
Varrus seemed to have a solemn look as some in the crowd could absorb an entire crystal all by themselves.
"Something troubles you my friend?" Kael said in amusement.
"Not much Kael, I am just reminded that everyone sitting at this table truly deserves to be here. Not many people have a large enough capacity to absorb this much mana." Varrus replied.
"Is that respect I hear in your voice?" Kael mocked.
Varrus half smiled, and rolled his eyes.
Kael felt relief enter his system. He hadn''t joked like this in a very, very long time. The mages of Dalaran were kind, yet distant, while his fellow Highborn were always scheming against him. This was the feeling of acceptance he had longed for all his life.
"Your Majesty, we can accept that Vandercross can sit amongst us, but why is his entourage present?!" Thaladred loudly proclaimed, and banged his plate covered fist upon the table.
"Is that a challenge for a duel I hear?" A seductive voice rang throughout the hall.
All was silent as a familiar face made itself known.
"Faedra." The name seemed to whisper around the hall.
Kael rubbed his eyebrows. He did not expect to meet his father''s chief assassin in these circumstances.
"Some might fear your reputation for never being caught in the act of murder, but I never liked your coy, ''I''m better than you'' demeanor! If it''s a fight you want, it''s a fight you''ll get!" Thaladred heated his axe, and saluted, only to have the Ranger General, Lor''Themar, hold him back.
"We are not some children so easily riled up by the mere presence of some upjumped information broker, are we, Thaladred?" Lor''Themar questioned.
"Release me Lor''Themar!" Thaladred raged.
"Come now my friend, these five deserve to be here such as you. Syra Vandercross was amongst the first of the Highborn to learn the skills of the paladin in the Orc War, and was vital in the war effort. Faedra Greathollow''s information was instrumental in preventing two Civil Wars as you''ll recall. The youth, Koren Vongstag is an accomplished dragonhawk rider, representing the airborne forces of Quel''Thalas. The guard in heavy plate, Rho''dan, is a veteran of every war, same as you. Finally, one of my Farstriders, a man I considered promoting to my third in command, Helios stands at their back. Surely we can all get along?" Lor''Themar said patiently, and with a diplomatic smile.
"I am not your friend Lor''Themar. The failure of the Rangers is apparent for all to see. You may be older than most, supposedly the wisest in this hall, yet you always were the Windrunners whipping boy! Where did relying upon those whiny women get us?! Where are the other two sisters when our people are in danger? I do not answer to you, fool." Thaladred snarled, and roughly shook off Lor''Themar''s arm.
"Bravo, Sanguinar, a dog is only useful as long as he is leashed. You have trained him well." Faedra mock clapped.
"Thaladred''s only concern is the safety of Quel''Thalas. Perhaps a demonstration of his prowess will convince those present of his cause?" Sanguinar said over his shoulder. addressing the wise.
"We are not barbarians, we are not the orcs." Lor''Themar entreated.
"Time in the field has addled your mind, Ranger General. The duel has always been the way of settling disputes upon Azeroth. What say you, Vandercross?" Sanguinar locked eyes with Varrus.
Kale made to say something, but before he could, a woman''s voice rang throughout the hall.
"I accept, I will not accept your insults toward my husband any further. I shall enjoy making you suffer." Stepping forth, a buxom blonde woman carrying an overly large sword presented herself.
"Sending a woman to fight in your stead, boy? You never should''ve come here." Thaladred taunted, and scraped his battleax upon the marble floor, pulling sparks into the air.
"Go Syra, kick his ass!" Varrus cheered, and clapped from the side.
"Quel''Dorah!" A random Elf shouted.
Soon after, more cries of "Quel''Dorah" followed.
The floor was hastily cleared, and the meeting table pushed to the side in preparation for the oncoming fight.
"This is your wife?" Kael raised an enquiring eyebrow.
He was somewhat miffed that he hadn''t been invited to give his friend away at the wedding.
"Yeah, she''s the best." Varrus said thoughtlessly, ignoring Kael. His eyes only had room for Syra.
Kael scoffed, then pursed his lips. That girl must be something to snare his friend so tightly. The old Varrus would never be so enamored with anyone in the past.
"Your Majesty, if you would officiate?" Sanguinar enquired, breaking Kael out of his thoughts.
Kael adjusted his collar, and stood tall in regal pose #3 that he had learned from his tutors.
"Thaladred the Darkener, you have been challenged to a Quel''Dorah-a duel of high valor-from Syra Vandercross, do you accept?" Kael spoke with as much authority and grace decades worth of royal training had taught him.
"Quel''Dorah!" Thaladred slapped his plated gauntlet onto his cuirass, and bowed to Kael.
"Syra Vandercross, do you-"
"Quel''Dorah." Syra interrupted Kael, and drew her buster sword.
"Very well, begin!" Kael stomped his foot, and a small pulse of arcane energy swooshed through the room, signaling the start of the Quel''Dorah.
Both combatants leapt forward, and met in the middle. Their oversized weapons locked in a struggle for power, each seeking to push the other back.
Light energy pulsed around Syra, and empowered her blade with a holy golden glow.
Countless light rays burst and exploded off her sword, churning up pieces of marble as they exploded all around Thaladred.
Whatever explosion was going to strike Thaladred was magnetized toward his shield, and absorbed by its enchantment.
"Hurah!" Thaladrad pushed out with all his strength, and his shield began to slowly suck all the light away in the room until it became the only light source. The vacuum ability was so powerful, it even began to drain Syra''s own light infused weapon.
"Huh, so that''s why he''s called ''the Darkener." Varrus nodded his head in understanding.
''How can you be so casual while your wife is engaged in mortal kombat?!'' Kael glanced askance at his friend.
"By the Light, burn!" Thaladred roared, releasing the pent up energy in his shield as a concentrated beam of death.
Kael raised his hands, prepared to intervene at any moment. Doubtful as he was, if she was worthy of his friend, he wouldn''t sit by and watch Varrus''s wife die. Cultural significance of a Quel''Dorah be damned.
Syra dodge rolled beam after beam, seemingly moving away just in time. Every spot that the beam missed cratered the ground, and shook the very foundations of the palace.
All the while, she was beaming a bright, excited smile at Varrus. In Kael''s eyes, it was as if she wasn''t paying attention to the fight at all.
Loose rubble and debris fell from the rafters, dirtying the once immaculate palace floor.
The corner of Kael''s mouth twitched, and his hair cast a shadow over his eyes. He had just repaired the damage to the palace an hour ago.
"DIE whelp!" Thaladred slammed his shield onto the ground, creating a pulsing ring of energy that spread out to cover the room.
Syra performed a handstand jump to dodge.
Thaladred began to laugh as he moved to intercept her, confident she had nowhere to run to.
Syra then conjured a chain of light energy, and used it as a whip on the wall to reorient herself.
Caught off guard, Thaladred was met by a boot to the helm, and was knocked flat onto his back, sliding along until he fell into one of the many pits he had created.
Kael''s eyes went wide as he had a sudden realization.
"She''s playing with him." Kael muttered in awe.
His observation didn''t seem to be unique, as the other wise seemed to similarly be in shock.
Thaladred jumped out of the hole with silent fury, and swiped his axe at Syra in a flurry of fast and accurate swipes.
Yet Syra replied with a wide smile, and either side stepped, or parried every single strike to perfection.
A chain of light formed on her hand, and she lassoed it around the horns on Thaladred''s helmet. With a heave, Syra body slammed him onto his back, then wrenched his helmet off.
Fair blonde hair spooled in front of Thaladred''s face, yet Kael caught sight of horrible burn scars.
Thaladred grimaced, and faced the floor to hide his appearance from everyone. He then changed his shield with his axe, triggering another enchantment that absorbed all the light in the room, turning it completely dark.
Even though Elves had the ability to see in the dark, Kael could not see in this magically induced darkness.
Invisible howls of frustration, and the sound of metal on metal met Kael''s ears. The intensity of the conflict only served to make him nervous for the outcome.
Should either one of them die, there would be hell to pay.
After another minute of off and on clashing, there was absolute silence.
The tense silence lasted for more than five minutes before Thaladred''s pained voice cried out "I yield!"
Like the lights of an orb suddenly illuminating the room, the darkness retreated, and light spilled once more into the hall.
Thaladred once more wore his helm, yet he was on his knees with his head bowed toward Syra.
"I see the error of my ways. Your valor was greater than mine." Thaladred said weakly.
Kael let loose a breath he didn''t know he was holding.
"Hah hah! Well done My Love! My wife is the most stunning woman in all of Quel''Thalas!" Varrus rushed forward, and pulled her into a deep kiss.
"All for you." Syra cooed as she snuggled into his embrace.
Kael looked away. If only Jaina could see him in a similar light¡
"Your Majesty, Your Majesty! Bad news!" Pathaleon shouted as he burst into the room.
"What''s the problem Pathaleon, is it the Undead, have they made a resurgence?!" Kael questioned.
"T-trolls! Off the coast! I thought you should know."
Kael was going to ask for further details when tribal war drums began to sound throughout the city.
"To arms, to arms, the Amani have come!" Kael shouted to everyone present.
Kael hadn''t been there to stop the Undead, he would be damned if he stood by while their most hated enemy came by to finish the job!
Fire, fury and arcane energy coursed in his veins.
Today he would burn a core memory into the Troll bloodline.
The Quel''Dorei were not to be trifled with!
Chapter 7
AN: Still an OTP with Syra.
Once the alarm was set throughout the city, Koren swiftly departed to rally his dragonhawk knights, and Rho''dan left to gather the army of irregulars, as well as the few hundred Crossguard that were undergoing training.
As much as Varrus would want his personal force to have more time to train, this was an all hands on deck situation.
"Say that again Pathaleon, how many Trolls?!" Sanguinar questioned with incredulity.
"Sss-sixty thousand Lord Sanguinar. They are set to make landfall on the eastern beach. We have received reports that a flanking force has split off, and is heading towards the northern port of Silvermoon." Pathaleon stuttered, wiping sweat from his forehead as the wise regarded him harshly.
"Impossible! Not 20 years ago, we burnt half the forest to the ground, and ran the forest purple with Troll blood!" Thaladred snarled, and lifted Pathaleon up by the scruff of his neck.
"Peace Thaladred, Pathaleon is known as ''the Calculator'' due to his mathematical attainments, and has acted as this court''s faithful taxman for centuries. Surely you trust his abilities?" Kael said commandingly.
"Of course, apologies, my Prince " Thaladred said reluctantly as he released Pathaleon.
"Pathaleon, what numbers can we muster?" Kael said as he magically lifted the herald up with a wave of his hand, and flicked the dust off him.
Looking at Varrus, Pathaleon rubbed the red marks on his throat and lightly coughed.
"Vandercross claims to muster a force of 3 Heroes, 5 veterans equal to one Hero, and 1,278 fully enchanted irregulars, each individually on par with a veteran. The Vongstag can produce 2 Heroes, 183 dragonhawk riders, along with 3,500 irregulars." Pathaleon paused, then puffed up his chest, and began to speak with pride.
"As for the eastern forces, we can field 18 Heroes, 1,201 fully equipped veterans, and 8,431 irregulars. And of course we have Your Majesty, which surpasses any mere Hero!" Pathaleon bowed, and said flatteringly.
Varrus nodded his head along, not all too surprised by the amount of powerful figures in their ranks. Where Elves lacked large numbers, they made up for it in the quality of individual fighters. Who needed a hundred man army when one spell could incinerate 100 men?
"Astute analysis, Calculator, yet there seems to be a deficiency in your formulae." Faedra slow clapped from Varrus'' side.
Pathaleon shrank his neck back, then looked to Kael like a puppy that had been denied his treat.
"Away with the theatrics Faedra, tell them what you know." Varrus tiredly waved his hand.
This woman had put Sanguinar in his place, and for that, Varrus was grateful, but this millenia old minx was having much too much fun while they were on the brink of disaster.
"Oh very well, as the Highlord commands." Faedra knowingly smirked.
"What our esteemed bean counter failed to account for is the precise composition of the enemy forces. 60,000 is a grand number, but what of their leadership, their Heroes?" Faedra buffed her nails, and blew on them while she ignored everyone in the courtroom.
"P-preposterous! They are Trolls! They''re brutal, regenerate limbs, and require a good burning! Every school child knows this much!" Pathaleon quickly defended himself.
"Kill it with fire, what a typical Elven response. I see the appeal, what self respecting lady wouldn''t want to see the world burn? Yet you fail to realize that a massive monsoon the likes of which have never graced our fair land for 7 millenia is about to make landfall." Faedra said with disdain.
Almost as one, the wise all turned their heads upward, and noticed the tell tale signs of massive thunderclouds gathering above the giant glass window above the courtroom.
"So?! We burn them harder!" Pathaleon doubled down.
"Fool! Every child, as you put it, is aware of the power of the sun! With its might, our fire spells are nearly twice as effective! Without the Sunwell granting us an inner fire, the storm will dampen our fire magicks! Furthermore, Troll shamans are attuned with lightning, their shields, movement speed, and chain lightning will all be enhanced!" Sanguinar said, and signaled Theladred who arose from his seat, then backhanded Pathaleon across the chin, knocking him to the ground.
A grim silence descended upon the hall as everyone came to the crushing conclusion that they were in an extremely precarious situation.
During this brief interlude, Syra poked Varrus in the side, eliciting a brief giggle.
"You have something to say, Vandercross?" Sanguinar arched an eyebrow.
Varrus pursed his lips. Sanguinar had 100% heard Varrus giggle.
Varrus glared at his wife, but she merely looked away, like a cat that had pushed over a cookie jar, yet acted aloof. For someone so powerful, she sure acted childish at times. Well¡at least she was cute. Varrus amended as Syra stuck her tongue out at him.
Chuckling to himself, Varrus scanned his spell list, and an idea came to mind.
"Actually, I do have a solution, Sanguinar, thank you for your consideration." Varrus mock bowed, then turned toward the hall.
"I have a spell to temporarily alter the weather. If cast at the height of their invasion, I can surprise them, and we can turn on the Trolls when they least expect it." Varrus spoke up.
Varrus eyed the Master tier Alteration spell, Control Weather: Temporarily summon the weather of your choice.
"How temporary? If it can last an hour or longer, then there is no need to risk the storm''s fury." Lor''Themar said while stroking his chin in thought.
The focus of the wise was all on him, and Varrus couldn''t help but scratch the back of his head.
"About three to five minutes." Varrus said with surety.
Although in reality, Varrus was only vaguely going off his memory of the Skyrim spell. Perhaps it would last longer because of his increased spell power, or even create a weather effect more intense than usual. The fact was, Varrus had no clue, he had never cast the chance weather spell since he woke up in Warcraft. Truthfully, he never thought he would use it either.
"If you could hold the sun up for 10 minutes, I would be able to cast a grand ritual spell, can you do this, Highlord Vandercross?" The future Grand Vizier and Grand Mage of the Blood Elves, Rhommath spoke up from amongst the wise with great respect.
Varrus made note of Rommath''s address, and wondered if he was merely brown nosing, or if he truly held loyalties toward the Convocation. If it was the latter, it was about time Varrus found some allies amongst this council!
"It should be manageable." Varrus nodded in assent.
Worst case scenario, he cast the spell again. Hopefully he wouldn''t be locked in a life and death struggle at that point, otherwise, the 5-10 seconds or so it took to cast a Master spell would be too long in a fast paced fight where every second counted.
"If you boys are done chatting about the weather-such a male thing to do-then perhaps you are ready to hear about the enemy forces?" Faedra called everyone''s attention to her.
"The floor is yours m''lady, please tell us what you know." Kael said with some humility and in a diplomatic tone.
The men amongst the wise grumbled and cleared their throats, yet remained silent, eagerly awaiting this information report.
"Oh very well. My friends inform me that Zul''jin as you are all well aware has escaped our clutches 20 some odd years ago-no thanks to a certain Ranger General''s ineptitude-and has risen from the ashes once more to kill us while we are at our lowest."
"My liege, I could''ve told you that much!" Pathaleon hotly interrupted.
"Pathaleon." Kael said while glancing at the herald.
"Yes, Your Highness?"
"Shut up."
Pathaleon paled, and bowed in response.
"As I was saying, Zul''Jin has bargained with a so-called ''dark power.'' Whether this be the Old Ones, Demons, or another force, we can only speculate. What we do know is that he has bound himself to four Loa. These very same Loa are possessing four hosts, granting them immense power akin to a demigod. In essence, powered by four nature spirits, Zul''Jin is more than the skilled warrior who defeated 2 archmages and our current Ranger General." Faedra looked everyone in the eye, and spoke with a gravitas lacking entirely of her usual mocking tone.
"The Loa are the key to this." Sanguinar said as he drummed his fingers across the table in thought.
"It would seem we have discovered the Troll''s weakness. Decapitate the limbs, and leave the body vulnerable." Rhommath spoke up in his characteristically deep voice.
"Yes, yes, kill the Loa, and that Zul''Jin''s power should wane as well! Brilliant deduction Rhommath!" Lor''Themar slapped his armrest in excitement.
"One final warning. Their Great Shaman, Hexlord Malacrass is the glue holding this operation together. His abilities are largely unknown, yet his totems are spectacular. Many of my friends have died learning of a plot to sabotage this city. This is where we part ways as I go to gather my friends. Oh, and Varrus, don''t break my little girl''s heart." Faedra thinly smiled, then simply faded away.
There was no smokescreen, no raise of the hand, or crack of obvious teleportation. One moment she was there, the next, simply vanished.
Checking with his detect life spell, Varrus couldn''t find hide nor hair of his mother-in-law.
"A most perplexing, yet useful woman. How I despise her." Sanguinar crunched his plated fists into a clenched fist.
"Bahaha, it has been centuries since she divorced you. The fact that her daughter is from another male must vex you so!" Thaladred belly laughed, and caved in a portion of the grand table when he slammed his meaty fist upon it.
"Discretion is the better part of valor my friend." Sanguinar said calmly, then steepled his fingers.
Thaladred was quick to silence himself, and looked anywhere but at Sanguinar.
Varrus squeezed Syra''s hand, and looked down at her to see her reaction.
She flashed him a smile.
"I''m fine." Syra mouthed.
"Enough banter, how do you wish to distribute yourselves." Kael rubbed the bridge of his nose, and asked the wise.
"I volunteer to hold the north." Varrus was the first to speak up.
"Nonsense, your ability to clear the weather will sorely be needed on the main battlefront, Thaladred and I shall defend the north of Silvermoon." Sanguinar quickly interjected.
"Sanguinar is correct, my friend. Besides, I welcome you to fight by my side." Kael smiled, and placed a reassuring hand on Varrus''s shoulder.
Well, he wasn''t complaining, there would be more soul gems to be had on the main battlefield. The only reason why he suggested he hold the north was that he could defeat the smaller force quicker, then set out to flank the main force.
"Our numbers are slim, I agree with my husband, I shall lead House Vandercross''s elites to victory on the northern front." Syra declared, brooking no disagreements.
"Syra?" Varrus questioned.
Without her by his side, he wouldn''t feel nearly as safe or secure. He needed her.
"Go to the main battlefield, they need you. I shall secure your flank." Syra clunked her forehead onto Varrus'', and stole a quick peck across his cheek.
"Ahem. Very well, I agree to this arrangement. The meeting is adjourned." Kael cleared his throat, and spoke loudly into Varrus''s ear.
Varrus stood in place, still angered and disappointed that his very capable wife would be fighting on a separate front from him. Many of the wise ignored him, and began to file out of the room, discussing where they would position themselves for the battle to come. A large group surrounded Kael''Thas, and were eagerly entreating him for one thing or another. The prince gave Varrus a tired, complicated look, then attended to his royal duties.
Varrus wasn''t overly concerned with his friend, now that he was hopped up on mana again. If Kael''Thas was strong in WC3 without a source of mana to sustain him, he must be particularly powerful now. He may be a bit of a moody teenager, but his raw magical abilities easily placed him in the top 50 strongest on Azeroth.
No, what he was concerned about was his separation from his wife. It touched his heart knowing she would be securing his flank, but it also hurt his heart knowing she wouldn''t be by his side to confront the enemy.
"I''ll see the five veteran guards see to your safety." Varrus said as he stroked Syra''s hair, and stared lovingly into her eyes.
"No need. A group of four veterans I led during the Orc War are calling to me now." Syra pointed out a group of oddly familiar faces.
Varrus didn''t know where he could place them¡were they the fucking Illidari Councillors from the Black Temple raid?!
''Veterans my ass!'' Varrus'' eyebrow twitched as he remembered some annoying fights from his WoW days.
These were bona-fide Hero units!
"Lady Syra, you survived!"
"Praise the Light, there is hope yet!"
"I thought that was you upon the carriage handing out Mana Stones!"
The group of High Elves began to celebrate, and cheer for her, to which Syra directed an embarrassed smile Varrus'' way.
"What''s this, my lovely, confident wife can make such an expression?" Varrus teased.
"Don''t go looking at women while I''m away, and don''t let me catch you hugging pretty men again, got it?" Syra hissed and roughly poked Varrus in the ribs.
"Uhh, I got it?" Varrus rolled his eyes, and thought to himself ''I haven¡¯t been looking at anyone else though?'' He then pulled his wife in for a deep tongue tied kiss.
"And you come back home safe and sound." Varrus said breathlessly as he pulled away from her lips.
Syra flashed another smile, then twirled away to socialize with her old squad, leaving Varrus alone.
While he was waiting for the armies to gather, Varrus found himself surrounded by a small group of the wise.
Surprisingly, the one at the lead was his chief antagonist during this little courtroom drama.
Sanguinar.
"Surprised to see me?" Sanguinar laughed.
"Truthfully? Yes, I thought you hated me." Varrus shook his head in confusion, and looked at the older man wearily.
"Hate, is a strong word. I may dislike your father, and heavily frown upon your past playboy actions, but tough times make tough men. I vehemently oppose the reconstitution of the Convocation, but that doesn''t mean I cannot appreciate your usefulness, Vandercross. I do not give compliments lightly, you understand, so take it to heart when I say thank you for your service." Sanguinar was professionally curt, and nodded his head.
"Thank you?" Varrus blinked in confusion.
"Don''t look at me like that Vandercross. Obviously you are not an object or commodity to be plied. However, it cannot be understated how important your continued survival is to the Quel''Dorei. Keep that in mind that if you die, we all will suffer. I hope it sinks in how much value you hold for our race as a whole." Sanguinar looked deeply into Varrus'' eyes, harrumphed, then twirled away.
Before Varrus could form an opinion on this strange turn of events, a long line of well wishers and lobbyists came forward. Among them was a familiar face.
"Varrus Vandercross, i doubt you recall seeing me much, but my name is Halduron Brightwing. Your father''s influence was instrumental in promoting me to my position within the Farstriders. I wanted to let you know that there are some amongst the wise who still support the Convocation." Halduron said with a no-nonsense attitude. His blue-black hair set him apart from the standard blonde Elf, and despite his seriousness, he had a bit of a mischievous smirk, and roguish air about him.
"It is good to know that not all are opposed to the restoration of tradition. I''ll keep you in mind." Varrus smiled back.
"We will have to discuss these matters over lunch, for now, I must gather my rangers." Halduron nodded at Varrus, then departed.
Alongside Halidron, several other paladins, and warrior well wishers introduced themselves, then departed to muster with the army.
However, two Elves remained behind.
"Good, with the bow plucker gone, we can finally discuss what really matters." A handsome, arrogant Elf dressed in loose flowing robes, wielding a giant intricate golden staff said while he levitated to Varrus'' side.
"Greetings young Varrus, I am High Examiner Tae''thelan Bloodwatcher, but of course I need no introduction. Despite being one of my students, you truly hid yourself deeply, tsk tsk tsk. I had wanted to mold you per your father''s instructions, but I can see my efforts would be wasted. You truly are remarkable my boy. Bravo." Tae''thrlon clapped his hands, and then raised two goblets full of wine with a wave of his hand.
"A toast to your magnificent ascension." Tae''thelon smirked, and raised his goblet high.
"Don''t be deceived, Vandercross, he''s only after your stones." A voice interrupted, and slapped the floating wine glass away, shattering it upon the ground.
There standing in its place was an elf in fully black plate armor. Varrus vaguely recognized him as one of the bosses that fought for Kael''Thas in Tempest Keep.
"Telonicus." Tae''thelon scowled at the fully armored figure.
"Make no mistake, I''m interested in your stones too. Don''t let this old wind bag fool you." Telonicus said in mirth.
"This accusation is preposterous! I simply wanted to congratulate young Varrus on his magical mastery. Cannot a teacher take pride in his student''s achievements?" Tae''thelon waved away the mess on the floor, then conjured up a fresh beverage.
Varrus rubbed his forehead. These two characters were starting to become increasingly familiar. If he was right, then Tae''thelon was the leader of the Horde''s version of the Explorers League, in which they searched for ancient sources of power/archeology. Telonicus was Kael''Thas''s chief engineer, and the brains behind the Mana Forges that were sucking Outland dry of all its mana.
The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.
In short, if Varrus read the situation correctly, they were two genius scientists lobbying for funding.
He decided to play along for now. Having two genius'' fight over his power supply could only be a useful connection moving forward.
Taking ahold of the conjured beverage, Varrus saluted the pair, then took a sip.
"Not bad!" Varrus praised as he licked his lips at the sweetness of the drink. He then looked to asses Tae''thelon''s reaction to flattery.
"See Telonicus, young Varrus here can appreciate the fine art of our people, unlike others. Why don''t you take your short sighted designs elsewhere." Tae''thelon nodded appreciatively at Varrus, then shooed away the fully armored man.
It was then that Varrus noticed a handful of drawings within Telonicus''s grasp.
"Your mind, Tae''thelon, is locked onto the ancient wonders, such thinking will never see our society advance. So what if my inspiration comes from a Dwarf?" Telonicus ridiculed in turn, then unfurled his blueprint for Varrus to see.
Varrus recognized the design for what it was. This was a fantasy sized, giant fucking cannon!
"This is a Mana Cannon. I drew inspiration for the design witnessing the fearsome firepower of the Dwarven cannons upon the Orcish Horde. In effect, it is a mobile Arcane Tower, capable of changing between fire, ice, and arcane energies. All it requires is an energy source. I theorize that one of those larger Mana Stones handed out to the wise could sustain 150-300 discharges." Telonicus excitedly pointed toward a sheet of numbers.
Varrus was nonplussed, as the actual physics behind ammunition capacity, ballistics, range and theoretical numbers were not within his sphere of knowledge. He could do the basics, and wasn''t half bad at chemical formulas, but physics wasn''t something he had dabbled much in.
However, big gun goes boom. Any idiot in an armchair could see the value of field artillery.
"I''m sold." Varrus held up a hand to stop Telonicus''s technobabble.
God knew he went into long ass nerd filled tangents himself, and he certainly listened to his fair share over the years. However, he knew what a cannon was. As long as it went pew pew, Varrus was satisfied.
"Talent is always recognized." Telonicus leaned toward Tae''thelon, and said smugly before rolling up his design.
"How many crystals do you need?" Varrus inquired.
He didn''t have a ton of Adept level Mana Stones, as it was more efficient for him these days to make Master level Mana Stones. As the amount of mana in the higher tier stone was so much higher, it was mind boggling.
Fortunately, he could just chip some pieces off of a Master Mana Stone, and call it a day.
Telonicus rubbed his chin in thought, and looked skyward. "About 300 should do it. I must say, it is refreshing to have someone so straightforward to work with. Thank you Vandercross. If you need help reforming the Convocation, I will aid you in those efforts."
Varrus pulled open his Deep Storage, then dumped the Mana Stones on the floor.
Any remaining wise within the palace all stopped what they were doing, and glanced over.
"You''ll have your fair share once the war commences! House Vandercross is vested in keeping the people healthy and happy." Varrus raised his voice when he saw a couple of the wise draw closer like a pack of hungry hyenas.
"What uncultured bloodsuckers, they cannot appreciate the gift that has fallen from the sky! Your generous donations are quite welcome young Varrus. Even if they go to less than deserving hands, your magnanimity is the sign of a great leader." Tae''thelon raised his goblet, and saluted Varrus.
"Speaking of which, you obtained your prize, shouldn''t you be going somewhere, Telonicus? Tsk, tsk." Tae''thelon raised his brows, and tutted.
"Oh, I have dozens of cannons that need to be outfitted, but I figured I''d stick around and watch you beg for those stones. Go on, show your old student why you''re really here." Telonicus folded his arms, and began to ooze smug.
Varrus wanted to chuckle at Tae''thelon as his face alternated between red and purple, but he also narrowed his eyes at Telonicus. The chief engineer was no fool, and was surprisingly good at the game, despite his obvious nerd-like inclinations.
Or perhaps Varrus was reading too much into it, and the chief engineer was doing what all nerds do best, and was being petty to the extreme.
"I do admit, my friend, that the Reliquary has made a breakthrough. We have crafted a golem using the raiment of the Titan Keeper Tyr. However, we are sorely lacking, and cannot find a power source. Yet what you offered Telonicus is but a fraction of our golem''s required energy inputs. You need not worry, young Varrus, I did not think you possessed such a large quantity of Mana Stones. I truly am here to congratulate you." Tae''thelon lowered his head, and dropped his pride in a moment of humility.
"Again, congratulations for your magical prowess. I know I did not teach you even a fraction of your skills, but I am still proud of you. Should you require my aid in reestablishing the Convocation, you would have my support. I heard you were interested in collecting tomes and artifacts. Consider this a small token of my appreciation." Tae''thelon levitated himself closer, and presented a mageweave bag, then began to float off.
"Tae''thelon being nice. Truly these are the end times. Thank you again, Vandercross." Telonicus nodded at Varrus, then scooped up the Mana Stones to go.
Varrus opened the bag, and was presented with dozens of enchanted items, and books. Several unique enchantments such as elementa/void/fell resistance, and could also attune a weapon with fel/void energy. In terms of books, one detailed long distance portal magic, and another was a crafting schematic to make Titanforged weapons.
The knowledge held by a millenia old archeologist was truly stunning. Especially these Titanforged weapons. The materials for crafting these items were rare beyond rare. Something only an archeologist willing to scour thousands of tomes and tombs would be able to acquire.
''Tae''thelon, that sly bastard.'' Varrus grinned to himself when he looked at the back of that haughty Elf.
He felt like he got played, but it was the best kind of game. Mutual cooperation was much more believable than flowery words, and backroom promises.
"Hold up a minute Tae''thelon, perhaps I can help you, but not here, and we''ll have to make it quick. The soldiers should almost all be mobilized now, we have no time to waste." Varrus chased after the floating man in a hurry.
"But of course, the Reliquary appreciates your aid." Tae''thelon smiled.
"And to think I truly thought he had reformed." Telonicus clucked his tongue, then went about his business. He had to get those cannons into position before the Trolls made landfall.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Within the raging waters off eastern Quel''Thalas, a fleet of countless ships and canoes had set sail.
A storm raged overhead, drowning dozens of the smaller craft, yet the Trolls sailed forth, unwilling to turn back for a second.
Large droplets of water fell upon Jan''alai''s green brow, and wind swept across her flowing brown locks as she stared fearlessly into the ocean.
Yet the screams of her kinsmen drew pity into her heart. Choosing now of all times to invade made no sense.
''The darkness of void shrouds Zol''jin like a cloak, be wary of betrayal young one.'' The dragonhawk Loa, Vas''ai spoke from within Jan''alai''s spirit.
As a subordinate tribesman to the Amani, Jan''alai knew first hand the brutality of the upper caste. Yet she could not stand silent while her people died needlessly.
"Chief Zul''jin, is it wise to set sail in such a storm? Surely our people would be better suited toward a land assault." Jan''alai questioned in concern as she saw a canoe capsize, all dozen occupants cried out for help, yet were quickly swallowed by the briny deep.
"Mmm? Da Undead roaming da land not convincing enough?" Zul''jin growled from a Elf skinned rug thrown across a skull decorated throne.
His lone eye was full of such intense emotion, Jan''alai didn''t dare maintain contact, and looked away.
"Aye, you do not see the signs girl? We all felt da explosion 6 days ago, now is the time!" Hexlord Malacross, the Amani''s lead shaman scowled at Jan''alai.
"But if it will make ya feel better, I be checkin one more time." Malacross approached a chained up Troll from a ''lesser'' tribe, and pushed him to the ground.
Pulling out a wicked sharp knife, Malacross cut open the screaming Troll''s belly, and pulled out his intestines.
"Hmm, mmm hmm, I see." Malacross rubbed bloodied fingertips across his chin as he dug through the entrails. He stuck a finger in his mouth and grinned crimson up at Jan''alai.
Her face was stone, unwilling to show the slightest provocation that may endanger her clan, yet her blood boiled.
Malacross then shoved the entrails back into the chained Troll, and patted him on the head.
Jan''alai hated this bloody ritual. She had witnessed the same done to her own tribesmen 6 times since she was a little girl.
"Vandercross." Malacrass hissed.
"Good. I canna wait ta pull''em apart bit by bit." Zul''jin said with relish in his voice as he slapped down a portrait with the famous Elf''s face plastered upon it.
Jan''alai''s throat hitched as she took sight of Quel''Thalas''s greatest hero.
When the Amani raided High Elf villages 20 years ago, they found countless portraits, and documents with his name on it. What few Trolls understood Thalassian translated it to ''Hero of the Ages, Vandercross the Great Slays ALL.''
Since then, trinkets, toys, and even magic orbs recording Vandercross''s achievements were looted from bins, chests, and other receptacle sites. The Trolls truly knew he was an important character when they found these posters and recording orbs amongst offerings like scrap piles of food and other the broken swords/bows of warriors!
Jan''alai had watched dozens of such recordings for countless hours, and taught herself the language-all in the name of learning to defeat the enemy of course-and she had become inspired.
One of his most memorable speeches to the Humans during the Orc invasion was particularly memorable:
"I have returned. By the grace of the Light, our forces stand again on Human soil ¡ª soil consecrated in the blood of our two peoples. We have come, dedicated and committed, to the task of destroying every vestige of Orc control over your daily lives, and of restoring upon a foundation of indestructible strength, the freedom of your people.
At my side is your King, Varian Wrynn, worthy successor of that great patriot, Llane Wrynn, with the leadership of the Alliance. The seat of your government is now therefore firmly re- established on Stormwind''s soil.
The hour of your redemption is here. Your patriots have demonstrated an unswerving and resolute devotion to the principles of the Light, that challenges the best that is written on the pages of Human history. I now call upon your supreme effort that the Orc may know from the temper of an aroused and outraged people.
Rally to me. Let the indomitable spirit of the Alliance lead on. As the lines of battle roll forward to bring you within the combat zone, rise and strike. Strike at every favorable opportunity. For your homes and hearths, strike! For future generations of your sons and daughters, strike! In the name of your sacred dead, strike! Let no heart be faint. Let every arm be steeled. The guidance of divine Light points the way. Follow us, men and women of the Alliance in the name of righteous victory!"
Vandercross''s rallying cry had sent shockwaves through Jan''alai''s heart when she first heard it as a little girl.
When she saw her father, her brothers, and uncles dragged to the top of the Amani''s temple, and had their hearts ritualistically removed and devoured, she knew she could not grant them her loyalty any further.
Now that Zul''jin had learned of a dark power to force the merger of Troll and Loa, Jan''alai had her chance to rebel, yet she was just one girl. Surely, the great hero Vandercross would be sympathetic to her cause?
Jan''alai wanted revenge. She wanted to live in a society without food scarcity, where death wasn''t around every corner, where people spoke properly, stood without a hunch, and were required to wear pants in public.
The histories said that the Trolls were capable of so much more, yet they let their homes turn into rot and ruin. 20,000 years of history, and half of them lived in stick huts.
She didn''t trust the Elves, but she believed in him.
She believed in Vandercross.
While Jan''alai was lost in thought, the Hexlord called her over.
"Step forward, Nalarakk da bear, Akil''zon da eagle, Jan''alai da dragonhawk, and Halazzi da lynx!" The tribe''s shaman, Hexlord Malacrass rattled his skull tipped staff on the ship''s wooden frame, his voice took on an unholy timbre that echoed across the raging maelstrom.
Countless Trolls cheered as their champions came to the prow.
"Nalarkk, Akil''zon take 20,000 and flank to da north, Jan''alai you lead da glorious vanguard force, take 10,000 of the scattered tribes, and let dem share in your glory. We Amani will be right behind ya girl." Zul''jin commanded from his throne.
"Yes, chieftain." Jan''alai bowed her head, then turned away to go to her forces.
Jumping off the ship, Jan''alai connected with the Loa, and transformed into a massive dragonhawk.
Flying in the sky, Jan''alai saw the target of her people''s attack. It was a relatively narrow beachhead that could accommodate no more than a few thousand at a time, and was surrounded by a never ending wall of cliffs.
Zul''jin was trying to get her killed! Rage, anger, and despair welled up in Jan''alai''s belly.
''Peace Jan''alai, the sooner you speak with Vandercross, the sooner we can resolve this conflict.'' Va''sai the dragonhawk Loa soothed.
"You are right Va''sai, that Vol''Jin and his croney, Malacrass made a mistake when they partnered you with me." Jan''alai grinned bloody murder as she thought up the revenge she would bring to the Amani.
The smaller tribes were with her, and knew of her plan. The hour of her vengeance was nigh.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Once Varrus was done handling business with Tae''thelon, he had been ushered by Rho''dan to follow the army out of Silvermoon''s broken gates.
Torrential rain dripped down upon the burnt down buildings, and mixed with plagued land. This created a black slurry of toxicity that brushed along the marching army''s boots.
Distant lightning crackled, and thunder boomed.
Varrus pulled his hood tight, yet the powerful winds swept water into his face all the same.
"I could gather a carriage for you Highlord, or perhaps a flying carpet.." Rho''dan entreated.
"No need, I''ll walk, same as everyone else." Varrus waved his faithful guard off.
''Besides, a wheeled carriage would go nowhere in this mud.'' Varrus grimaced to himself as he stepped in a knee high puddle of sludge.
"Heave! Heave! This weapon cannot be late!" Telonicus urged the Hawkstrider handlers to work faster, and drag his Mana Cannons forward.
Similar sights of Arcane Golems getting their legs stuck in mud was a constant problem as well.
When a scout came to report the situation with the enemy, it soon became clear that they would have to leave these weapons of war behind if they were to make it in time.
This was not an encouraging start.
Sighing to himself, Varrus picked up the pace.
After a half hour march, they finally reached a narrow beach. It was about half a mile wide, and was rather steep with a tiny amount of shoreline. The beach was flanked on both sides by a seemingly never ending cliff face.
It didn''t seem that this location was particularly important to the Highborne, and it was rather barren. A lone Arcane Tower stood guard, and doubled as a lighthouse.
Choppy water gushed up the shoreline, and raged with the fury of the sea.
In the distance, a fleet of canoes, stolen Human craft, and other tribal looking ships crested the waves.
The water seemed alive as it propelled them ever closer to the shoreline. With every contraction, a big wave would guide the Troll force that much nearer to battle.
Warriors and paladins began to take position along the sandy dunes, and noble voices harshly shouted to be heard over the approaching storm.
Rain pelted them relentlessly, and Varrus felt cold pierce his bones as he took position on the cliffs with Kael and a group of casters.
Last minute Mana Stones were distributed, now all that remained was to wait for the enemy to come to them.
Varrus spat out a mouthful of rainwater, and wiped his face as his nerves began to make his heart rate increase.
The seemingly slow yet fast fleet was advancing at an ever increasing pace. Varrus estimated they would make landfall sometime in the next 10 minutes.
However, he had faced the vile Undead, and had increased his power by several magnitudes. Taking a deep breath, Varrus calmed himself, and went over his plan to deal with the Trolls.
Once they reached a distance taking them about 5 minutes from making landfall, then Varrus would begin spamming the spell, Bolide: Meteoric rock that deals 25 fire damage. It heats up as it travels, dealing up to x5 damage based on distance.
Bolide was a sniper type spell, and had rather high speed compared to most regular fireballs. What made Bolide particularly dangerous was the x5 damage modifier based on distance traveled.
The enchantments on Varrus'' gear increased spell damage by a whopping 2,280. Multiplied by 5, the Bolide spell was (2,305) x 5 = 11,525.
Varrus hadn''t tested the spell, and had no concept for how much destruction Bolide would deliver, but he had high hopes for the meteoric rock.
"Worry not Highlord, the beach is a natural choke point. The scum will be forced to wade through water, and face the continuous bombardment of Quel''Thalas''s best." Rho''dan said resolutely.
"Comforting words Rho''dan, but I don''t understand why the Trolls would attack such a narrow choke point in the first place. One would think that they would send their main force toward northern Silvermoon, and the flanking force would make landfall here." Varrus shook his head in confusion.
Trolls were stupid, but the leadership was never this stupid. Something wasn''t adding up. What gave the Trolls the confidence to run this seemingly suicidal charge? The fear of the unknown combined with this chilling rain was beginning to make Varrus nervous.
Taking a deep breath, and exhaling warmth into his hands, Varrus wished his rock, his wife, were beside him.
With Syra by his side, he wasn''t worried about anything. He could only take comfort in the fact that she was securing their flanks. All he had to focus on was the enemy in front of him, with her behind him, there should be no surprises flanking them in the rear.
"Strange, why is a force of Troll''s diverting to the south?" Rho''dan pointed out.
"Contact! A dragonhawk Loa is coming straight for us. Look alive people!" Lor''Themar''s voice pierced through the rain, and drew everyone''s attention.
Flying toward them at a rather slow pace was a giant green semi-ethereal looking dragonhawk.
"On my command, prepare to shoot it down!" Lor''Themar commanded, bow in hand.
As the Loa began to draw closer, and closer, Varrus prepared to kill it with Bolide.
Then the Loa opened its mouth, and a woman''s voice spoke in crisp Thalassian:
"Life''s but a walking shadow, a poor player that struts and frets his hour upon the stage and then is heard no more. It is a tale told by an idiot full of sound and fury, signifying nothing."
Not an Elf spoke a word. Only the sound of crashing waves, rain bouncing off plate armor, and distant thunder resounded in their ears.
Almost as one, half or more of the Highborn soldiers turned to look at Varrus.
Varrus looked onward, oblivious as to the current development.
"What, what''s going on?" Varrus questioned Rho''dan.
"Ahem. It is a line from your first play, Highlord. How do I say? It was marketed as the showing of the millenia from a fresh new talent. Old Lord Vandercross spared no expense showing this debut to every citizen of Quel''Thalas. In short, there isn''t a soul who hasn''t ahem, found comedy in this uh, unique performance." Rho''dan said as he staunchly looked out to the sea, and repeatedly cleared his throat.
"Varrus Vandercross, although you are a little shorter in person than I had imagined, I would recognize your face anywhere! Hero and savior of the Elves, my name is Jan''alai! Help me Varrus Vandercross, you are my only hope!" The Loa slowly floated down, and transformed into a female forest Troll.
Varrus looked askance at everyone present, but no one would meet his eye, and all looked away.
All except Kael''Thas who busily held his sides as he drowned himself in laughter.
"It is good to see that the clown prince in the recording is true to life. Now I know you are the real Vandercross!" Jan''alai loudly exclaimed, then got down on one knee.
Kael''s choked laughter suddenly petered off, causing Varrus to smirk in response.
"The Amani have run rampant for too long! The lesser tribes as they call us suffer. However, we have been inspired by your heroism to rebel! Varrus Vandercross, I beg of you! Help me, help my people, please!" Jan''alai said from the mud.
Several nearby Highborn wore looks of disgust at the Troll standing before them, and a few even moved forward to stab her in the back.
Varrus had his mind race as he took this scene in. Not in a million years did he think a Troll would come to parlay.
"Why should we trust you? Isn''t this some Troll plot?" Rho''dan shook his head, and pointed his blade at the Troll''s chin.
"My entire family have had their hearts ripped out, and sacrificed to unknown gods. We lesser tribes hate the Amani as much or more than you High Elves do. My people built the temples, my people grow the crops, my people weave the clothes, forge the weapons, and every other task required of them. But my people are the first to be sacrificed at the temple, the first into battle, and the villages destroyed in retaliation when the Amani murder innocent Highborn villages. I hate the Amani. Let their blood drenched in my talons be proof of my commitment!" Jan''alai finished with a savage snarl, hopped into the air, and transformed once more into a Loa.
Varrus rapidly blinked his eyes as Jan''alai''s hatred seemed all too familiar to him. Of course no one could hate a Troll more than another Troll, but it went deeper than that.
Warcraft was largely built upon ripping off other concepts from Earth fantasy, and real world events. Elves and Dwarves were straight up taken from Tolkein, and Stranglethorn Vale literally was identical to Vietnam on the map. These were just a couple of examples, and the Amani were no different.
The jungle temples, animal gods, heart sacrifices, and tribal aesthetic? It screamed Aztec influence. And if the Amani were based on the Aztec''s, then this coalition of lesser Troll tribes was identical to Earth history.
Common belief was that the Aztecs were a homogeneous group that died from the Spaniard''s disease. While this certainly played a role in their demise, what truly sealed the deal was the countless native tribes that were sick of the Aztecs shit, and rebelled.
The situation happening around Varrus right now was eerily similar to what happened to the Aztecs.
In short, he could trust Jan''alai in her motive to rebel based on the overarching themes that the Warcraft universe operated on. She should be genuine.
Noticing several Elves raise their weapons and ready to strike, Varrus knew he had to stop them. Every Troll that defected from the Amani would be one less enemy. He had to give it a try!
"Hold men, let her go! She can prove herself to us on the battlefield!" Varrus shouted.
One Elf went ahead with loosing an arrow anyway, despite Varrus''s command.
Holding out his hand, he yoinked the shaft backward by applying Telekinesis.
"Go Jan''alai! My people do not yet believe in you, but I do. Go now, and prove your cause!" Varrus shouted up at the rapidly ascending dragonhawk Loa.
"Death to the Amani!" Jan''alai screeched back.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Da vassal tribes are headed for the south, and Jan''alai is hovering above da Elves without fightin. I never liked dat self righteous baboozi, no dragonhawk spirit tainted by da Elves is a Loa of my Amani! She must be betrayin us, chieftain." Halazzi, the lynx said in angered disbelief.
"It mattas not. We spent 26 lives in an attempt to bind dat so-called Loa, yet each of them died from the possession. However, so long as they are bound to a Troll, they are bound to me. Malacrass, bring their wall crashing down." Zul''jin said as he lazily rested his hand upon his chin.
"Hahaha, I be waitin for you to say that mon!" Malacrass madly cackled, then held his arms up toward the raging storm.
Lightning poured down like a waterfall into his awaiting grasp.
"SURGING WITH POWER!!!"
Pure white electrical energy coursed through Malacrass''s system, then exited out of his fingertips toward the cliff wall.
A constant stream of lightning blasted the cliffside as Malacrass channel led the storm''s fury.
In a flash of brilliant light, thousands of tonnes of rocks were destroyed in an instant.
Great rumbling stones were greedily swallowed up by the awaiting waves down below.
When the smoke cleared, the half mile long beach had quadrupled in length.
Countless Trolls banged their stone headed axes upon their chests, and roared to the heavens seeing that the path to slaughter had been opened to them.
"Dee Amani nevar give up! We neva forget, we neva die! We gonna bury dem snobby High Elves here! For Zul''Aman!" Zul''Jin rose from his throne, and roared with the storm.
Chapter 8
Once the debris from the falling rocks cleared, a horror awaited.
Their natural chokepoint that would invalidate the overwhelmingly large number of Trolls had been vaporized in a flash.
Chants and tribal drums blared across the open waters.
¡°Zul!¡±
¡°Zul!¡±
¡°Zul!¡±
Dense electric arcs continued to dance amongst the clouds and channel towards one of the Troll shamans.
Knowing he had to act fast, and dispel this stormy weather, Varrus quickly cast Control Weather.
In an instant, the covered clouds dispersed, and a hot, dry sunshine spread across the sky.
As a result however, the fierce, choppy water was quickly dispelled, allowing the Trolls a straight shot at the now exposed beach.
Not only were the Trolls free to navigate in calm waters, but their vessels began to nearly triple in speed!
Varrus was confused for a moment, then noticed that shamanistic totemic magic was at play.
Cresting over the horizon were three humongous boats. Each was in the shape of a totem, and glowed with dense magical energies. Every other second, a pulse of energy would sweep across the fleet from each totem, and imbue the entire force with some sort of buff.
The totem boats corresponded to the elements of wind, lightning, and fire. At a glance, Varrus figured that these ships each possessed extraordinary capabilities.
As if to punctuate that point, fierce gales of wind pushed onto the beach, churning up sand, and whipping up mini sandnadoes, demonstrating exactly why the Troll vessels were advancing so swiftly.
At the same time, the fire totem ship began to lob giant fireballs towards the beach, attempting to find its range. Great plumes of steam erupted from the ocean wherever the fireballs made contact.
When one of the fireballs was about to crash into the Elven line, Varrus decided to put a stop to it.
Holding up his hand, Varrus cast telekinesis on one of the Troll totem ship''s firebolts with the intention of flinging it back. Surprisingly, it carried with it a powerful momentum, and Varrus was forced to send it crashing to the side as he lacked the strength to fully reverse its trajectory.
A huge explosion rocked the beach, and a grim silence enveloped the surrounding Elves.
On the horizon, hundreds of Trolls mounted on dragonhawks came swooping in, and acting as the vanguard, were rapidly closing in on their position.
In response, Kael stood forth, and turned to address the various Heroes and commanders present.
¡°This affront cannot stand! Lor''Themar, I''m entrusting you to take command of the beachhead, I shall take matters into my own hands! No longer will I sit patiently on the sidelines, nor will I allow some girl to fight my battles! The Trolls shall rue the day they ever set foot upon these fair lands!¡± Without giving Varrus time to react, Kael tossed out a baby Phoenix, then enlarged it to the size of an elephant with the flick of a wrist, and jumped upon its back. ¡°Come Al''ar, we ride!¡±
Kael¡¯thas hovered in the air for a moment, awaiting Lor¡¯Themar¡¯s assent, then flew into the sky to meet the enemy.
¡°Yes my liege, I shall not disappoint you!¡± Lor''Themar replied, then turned to shout out his commands.
¡°Golems! To the flanks! Line up on our left and right. Form the line!¡±
The golems slowly lumbered into their positions, spreading their numbers thin in an attempt to plug up the gaps in the Elf''s line of defense.
Their large encumbered bodies did not mesh well with the moist sand, and it was obvious to Varrus that the golems could be easily toppled in this environment.
Idly, Varrus wondered if this feeling of creeping dread was what the Germans felt while defending the beaches on D-Day.
Evidently he wasn''t the only one worried by the current development.
Dozens of irregulars were fidgeting in place, and Varrus saw looks of panic upon the faces of the mages positioned next to him.
The feeling of eminent defeat wafted in the air, and a nervous sensation seemed to wordlessly spread amongst the ranks.
Fresh off a country shattering defeat and bereft of the Sunwell, Varrus could see that the ever present High Elf overconfidence was lacking.
While he was appreciative of their humbling, he knew that this could not go on if they were to have a shot at victory.
Morale, afterall was one of the most important, if not the most important ingredients in any engagement. If the people fighting felt like they stood no chance, then they would put in less effort into the fight, all but guaranteeing a loss or route.
Varrus had seen it a hundred times in online games and sports matches. That when mental strength breaks, defeat would surely be on your heels.
Further compounding this impending feeling of loss was the mages ineffectual attacks upon the Troll fleet.
Fireballs and arcane blasts were launched in waves at the Troll forces, yet the Totem ships were blocking every single attack!
Wherever their attacks landed, a ball of electricity would come out to meet it, and deflect the fireball into the sea.
Analyzing the scene, Varrus determined that the deflection was due to the damned lightning totem ship! Like a shamans totem in WoW, this massive construct spread a shield to each and every ally!
It was so powerful, only a concentrated strike from dozens of mages could break the defense, taking down the smallest of canoes.
Whenever any of the ships containing 100+ occupants were struck, they had even more powerful elemental energies guarding them. Making their attacks seem almost untenable!
The situation was looking grim. Everyone knew that if they couldn''t thin the numbers before the Trolls made landfall, it would be a bloody massacre!
Varrus determined that what the army needed was an act of grandeur to restore confidence. To show that the Trolls could bleed!
Varrus clenched his fists, and inhaled sharply as he once more felt the weight of responsibility crash upon his shoulders.
Exhaling forcefully, Varrus raised both his hands, and put them together to dual cast the spell Bollide.
Hands flaming from charging the elemental attack, Varrus let the spell form for an additional 2-3 seconds to give it a little extra oomph, he Varrus took aim, and released.
Stolen story; please report.
Instantly, a basketball sized flaming meteorite escaped Varrus¡¯ hands, and streaked across the sky.
Hot fire scorched brilliantly across the horizon. Due to the nature of the spell, the further it had to travel, the more and more speed it picked up!
If at first the meteorite traveled as fast as the average Skyrim spell, it more than tripled that speed as it closed in on its target.
Having aimed at a medium sized ship containing hundreds of Trolls, Varrus held his breath as he awaited impact.
Seconds after his release, the meteorite finally collided with the lightning shield coating the boat.
Bright colors and a huge flash of light briefly stunned Varrus¡¯ eyes, yet he never once looked away.
The super heated rock exploded into a thousand chunks of debris, rocking the boat, and causing a mini sonic boom.
Varrus allowed himself a moment of disappointment that he couldn''t one shot the boat. However, he was quick to notice that the lightning shield had grown dimmer, and was flickering so much, it was nearly translucent.
Having watched this happen before when the mages attacked the smaller canoes, Varrus knew he had to strike quickly, otherwise the shield would recharge.
Undeterred, Varrus charged up another meteorite, and let loose once more.
The hot streak of flaming rock slammed into the ship once more.
This time, the shield fluttered, and almost looked like it would block the Bollide. However, the meteorites increased speed and powerful momentum was too much for the shield to handle.
Like a finger puncturing a balloon or latex glove, the magical rock of death penetrated deep into the ship''s hull, and exploded within.
A great eruption of flame consumed the vessel, resulting in several Elven soldiers to cheer. Several flaming Trolls threw themselves into the water, and Varrus didn''t know if they lived or died.
However, he did hear the ding of his Destruction skill level up, indicating the demise of several Trolls. Technically his first kill, Varrus was so full of adrenaline, he didn¡¯t have time to care about morality. This was war!
Every second, he was thinking about how to further his chances of survival, and getting Destruction up to Expert was his primary means of doing so.
He had some sinister plans for the Trolls once he passed that threshold, but that could wait until they made landfall. What mattered now was that a modicum of hope had been restored to the men and women arrayed on the beach down below.
While Varrus began to contemplate his future killing spree, and continued to launch Bollide after Bollide in an attempt to thin the herd, Kael¡¯Thas was carrying out an attack of his own.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Kael ruffled the feathers of his loyal Phoenix companion, Al¡¯ar, eliciting a friendly chirp back.
¡°Soon Al¡¯ar, soon we will burn them all down.¡± Kael muttered.
Al¡¯ar emitted a warm light, soothing Kael¡¯s raging emotions.
¡°Of course, you are right my friend. First the Trolls, then the Undead.¡± Kael nodded along.
¡°Watah wah boh boh!¡± A Troll riding a dragonhawk screamed as he tossed a spear at Kael.
Al''ar easily evaded the weapon, but dozens more came his way.
Kael frowned. He did not like the sickly purple-green energy radiating off the tips of those spears. The scent of mana was oily, yet he couldn''t help but be intrigued. What was this new power?
¡°Your Majesty!¡± A dragonhawk knight Kael barely recognized as one of Varrus¡¯ followers-Koren something? The son of his father¡¯s supporter, Tou¡¯vor-flew in front of him, and slew an enemy Troll.
Blinking his eyes, Kael regained his composure, then directed his phoenix companion toward the enemy.
Bolt after bolt of crimson fire balls launched themselves out of Al''ar''s beak like water from a squirt gun.
Each breath attack instantly immolated a Troll, as well as consumed their dragonhawk mount.
However, despite the phoenix''s impressive contributions, the battle was slowly going in the Trolls favor, as the Troll dragonhawk riders outnumbered the Knights of the Hawk four to one.
Hundreds of spears, and the occasional lightning bolt came at Kael at a rate he could barely keep up with. As it stood, he was surrounded on all sides, and trapped from reinforcements.
Was this all he would amount to? The shortest reigning monarch in all of Quel''Thalas?
Kael pursed his lips in melancholy as he gripped his friends feathers for comfort.
¡°Hyaa! Protect His Majesty!¡± Koren along with a squadron of knights formed into a wedge formation, and blasted through two dozen Trolls harassing Kael¡¯Thas¡¯s flank.
Seeing several brave knights sacrifice themselves to break him out of the encirclement, Kael felt that passion swell up in his heart once again.
These were his people. People willing to die for him. He could not, no would not let them do so any more!
Halting his phoenix from leaving the encirclement, Kael thrust his hands straight into the sky as he muttered the words to a spell.
¡°Your Majesty! Now is the time to make our escape!¡± Koren yelled over the strong gale.
¡°It¡¯s over!¡± Another knight cried in worry as the Troll dragonhawk riders had caught up, and renewed their barrage.
Kael¡¯s eyes glowed deep blue, then flashed as he finished his spell.
Right when the spears and lightning bolts were about to pierce his skin, a cyclone erupted from the center of his body.
The column of frantically twisting wind seemed to have a life of its own as it sucked up the spears, and lightning, then directed the attacks back at the ones who had thrown them.
Many a Troll attempted to maneuver out of the way, but without fail, every single one of them were pierced by their own spear.
Trolls howled in pain as the queer, poisonous magic tipped on their spears turned their flesh purple and strange. They opened their mouths to scream, but nothing would come out. Coupled with the Troll regeneration factor, these particular combatants suffered a slow, agonizing death.
Not even the shamans were safe as their own chain lightning was carried by the vortex of wind and murder. Many a shaman looked on, wide eyed as they convulsed atop their mounts. Dragonhawk wings stiffened, and dozens of other Trolls caught in the chain attack as collateral fell into the ocean, stiff as a board.
Kael¡¯Thas heard his name chanted from the shoreline, and he allowed himself a small smile.
As a leader in the Kirin Tor, Kael¡¯Thas was a respected figure for his knowledge and magical prowess. As a boy, he was held on a pedestal like the kingdom''s favorite doll. Only now, after decades of scorn and distant veneration did he truly feel the love of his people. That he belonged.
¡°They love me, they truly love me. Remarkable.¡± Kael muttered to Al¡¯ar, unknowingly shedding a tear as he basked in the warmth of the sun.
¡°Your Majesty, do you have enough Mana Crystal''s? I have extra.¡± The Dragonhawk Knight Commander, Koren said as he flew next to Kael¡¯Thas.
However, Kael was lost in a world of his own. He doubted whether they loved him, Kael¡¯Thas, or the idea of him, the Monarch of Quel¡¯Thalas.
In the end, while he enjoyed the praise, leadership was the furthest thing on his mind. He should be in Dalaran, swooning after Jaina Proudmoore, at least he would be, if it weren¡¯t for¡
¡°Arthas.¡± Kael all but snarled to himself.
His people no longer had the Sunwell, it was all that smug bastard''s fault. His father, his girl, his land. He took everything from him, and he would pay!
¡°My Prince? My Prince, please take these stones, you are looking unwell. Is the mana exhaustion severe?¡± Koren said with a concerned look.
¡°I¡¯m fine!¡± Kael barked back, then took out a Mana Crystal from his mageweave bag.
Absorbing its power, Kael pushed on Al¡¯ar¡¯s sides to speed up.
With the aerial threat eliminated, Kael scanned the enemy searching for the Zul¡¯Jin. If he could eliminate the head of the snake, then the Trolls would melt back into the forests like they always had.
For now, he had set his sights on one of the totem ships empowering the enemy.
Urging Al¡¯ar to move ever faster, he made his attack run.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Koren looked on, speechless as His Majesty, Prince Kael¡¯Thas left to engage the fleet without coordinating with his squadron.
He respected the Prince¡¯s battle prowess, but a little communication would''ve been appreciated.
¡°Orders, sir?!¡± A knight said from the side.
¡°We support His Majesty!¡± Koren took only a second to come to a decision to order.
He then recklessly charged forth, leading his squadron into certain peril.
Shaking his head however, Koren could only wonder to himself how many more suicidal charges his unit had left in them!
Koren could only believe in Varrus to come up with a miracle like he did the other day. So long as he was on the field, Koren held out hope that victory was all but certain!
Chapter 9
After Kael¡¯Thas decimated the enemy air force, the ground troops cheered in a frenzy.
¡°The Prince! The Prince! Rally sons and daughters of Quel''Thalas, rally!¡± Lor''Themar shouted, and banged his bow against his chest in an attempt to uplift morale.
Varrus clapped and shouted alongside everyone else.
Every little bit of zeal would help in the upcoming conflict, and Varrus was no different from everyone else, in that he had to maintain his own mental strength, and never give in to despair. Because even with his Skyrim Ui, he still feared death. He was quite cognizant that he might lose this fight, and be forced to flee, or worst case scenario, even face his demise.
Morale wasn''t just important for the troops, it was just as important for him as well!
In fact, Kael¡¯Thas¡¯s high profile battle in the sky garnered more public support than any of Varrus¡¯ actions.
Maybe in another timeline, Varrus would be jealous at the shift in attention, but all he felt was pride for his friend. The meeting with Tou¡¯vor, and his hectic battle for survival when he first transmigrated taught him a valuable lesson. To thrive in this giant death world, you had to find allies, and work together. No man was an island unto himself, and taking care of everything single handedly was unrealistic.
Heck, even the greatest villains in all of Warcraft had their own forces to project power. No one man could solo run this insane universe, not even the devil of the WoW franchise, Sargeras! And if Varrus was to thrive, then a healthy and sane Kael¡¯Thas could be nothing but good news for the Highborn.
Kael¡¯Thas had been expected to be the perfect royal ever since he was discovered to be a magical prodigy the likes of which had never been seen before.
When his infatuation with human women came to light, and that his overall worldview was pro-humamity, well, he surely made many enemies when he left to jointly lead the Kirin Tor.
In fact, Varrus couldn''t be more concerned for the moody ¡°teenager.¡± The guy just lost his awesome dad, and had to uphold the desires of a crumbling nation on the brink of destruction.
The young Elf¡¯s first act upon returning to his homeland in over 50 years was to destroy the corrupted Sunwell, and doom his entire race to mortality. This wasn''t exactly the most popular action.
As far as Varrus was concerned, a beloved, compassionate monarch was much preferable to the angsty, high off his own smug chaos loving prick that Kael¡¯Thas would canonically become.
Varrus just had to make sure the praise didn''t go to his friend¡¯s head like in the original timeline. Otherwise, things would not end well for their people.
While he was lost in thought, his everfaithful companion, and bodyguard, Rho''dan leaned down to whisper in Varrus¡¯ ear.
¡°The Prince has done well, Highlord, but the enemy forces are many beyond reckoning.¡± Rho¡¯dan¡¯s rough voice spoke of caution and warning.
Varrus trusted the veteran soldier''s input, and could only helplessly nod in reply.
Despite Varrus sinking several more medium sized ships during Kael¡¯Thas¡¯s aerial battle, it hardly made a dent in the massive Troll fleet.
Oh sure, he killed a little more than a thousand Trolls in that short span, but the boats were rapidly closing, and tens of thousands of Trolls would be committed upon the beach in a matter of minutes.
The ebb and flow of the ocean only saw the enemy forces move that much closer, and a seemingly never ending chain of boats constantly formed up on the horizon.
It was a harrowing, and quite frankly, depressing sight to behold.
While Varrus was turning an ear to Rho¡¯dan¡¯s counsel, his hands hadn''t remained idle.
Bollide after Bollide streaked through the sky, and decimated ship after ship, but it truly wasn''t enough.
Varrus was quite frankly becoming desperate.
His Destruction skill was leveling up at a decent rate, just hitting Expert now after he had killed literally hundreds if not thousands of Trolls. He had some plans in mind for the new spells he had unlocked, as well as what he could do once he hit Master, but for now, Bollide was his best long distance spell.
During Varrus¡¯ constant barrage on enemy vessels, he was always scanning the battlefield so that he could react to any sudden developments. Two things caught his eye, and were of major concern.
One huge threat to the Elven force was emerging from the totem ship of wind. Blowing dust and the smell of ocean salt everywhere, a giant wind elemental the size of a category one tornado coalesced above one of the totem ships, and faced Kael¡¯Thas down.
The elemental was white-blue, and semi-transparent. Gusts of wind swirled around in the shape of a tornado, and the elemental possessed gauntleted hands, and glowing-super bright-white eyes.
Varrus held his breath as Kael seemed to be caught off guard by the elemental''s sudden emergence.
Caught in the eye of the storm, Varrus could hear the frantic cries of Kael¡¯s phoenix as he tried to escape.
Swooping down from a sharp angle, Jan''alai, the Troll traitor and girl possessed by a dragonhawk Loa bore into the tornado in a flash of green flame.
A moment later, she tore another hole inside the elemental, leading Kael¡¯Thas out.
Varrus could only hope his friend was okay, because he had other concerns to pay attention to, and couldn¡¯t afford to tunnel vision his focus on one specific fight.
During this exchange with the wind elemental, the second major issue that caught Varrus¡¯ eye was one of the other totem ships. Lobbing molten projectiles, the totem of fire was engaged in a concerted trade of powerful magical attacks with a group of Elven mystics. Rhommath, the current acting Grand Magister led 100 mages to counter the totem ship, and were in a deadlock. The totem ship, however, seemed to have a slight edge over the Elven forces due to the lightning shield cast by the electric totem ship.
Varrus didn''t have much time to worry about either totem ship, as the Troll landing was imminent, in just a few minutes they would make landfall, and the Elf force had barely scratched them!
With no one taking on the lightning totem ship, the entire Troll army was protected from ranged attacks. If he could somehow take it out, or occupy it somehow, Varrus knew the tide of battle would shift in his favor.
As it stood, it took a dozen or so mages tossing spells in concert to sink one canoe. Given the Elves slim numbers, they were only managing to take out 5-10 canoes every two to five minutes. Each canoe crewed about 10 Trolls, meaning they vanquished 100 Trolls in that span of time.
The inefficiency was stunning when Varrus figured it should take only three or so mages to take out a canoe, maybe just one would be good enough! If the Trolls didn''t have their lightning shield, they would be losing 4x more boats in that same amount of time.
By now, with Varrus¡¯ efforts taking out several hundred man boats, and the mage''s efforts, he figured they had slain barely 2,000+ Trolls.
It was a significant number to be sure, but in a battle containing tens of thousands of Trolls, it was but a drop in the bucket!
Angered by the near helplessness of the situation, Varrus decided to go all out.
Targeting the lightning totem ship, Varrus began to spam the Bolide spell every second that he could.
Meteor after basketball sized meteor slipped out of his grasp, and zoomed forward with a terrifying momentum.
As the meteorites were about to collide with the transparent shield protecting the ship, three hovering lightning orbs broke away from the ship, and intercepted his attack.
No matter how many times he struck, a new lightning orb would form just in time to block the fiery hot rock.
Varrus frowned as his Bolide didn''t even scratch the shield, and were forced apart before impact.
However, he noticed that the lightning orbs could barely regenerate with his rate of fire, giving him an idea.
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
All this time he had been dual casting for the added damage boost from his perks. Ever since he played Skyrim, this was his preferred method of playing a mage, because who didn''t like dealing more damage?
However, in the real world, thinking in terms of damage wasn''t always the most viable option.
Instead of dual casting and combining both hands for one empowered attack, he could instead alternate hands to improve the tempo of his spells! Thus bypassing the swift regeneration speed of the lightning orbs!
Putting his theory to the test, Varrus began to cast Bolide with one hand after another.
Nearly doubling his cast speed, Varrus began to laugh nearly maniacally as his super sonic meteorites started to prove their worth!
Every fourth attack broke past the orbs, and began to batter away at the shield covering the totem ship.
¡°Fuck yeah!¡± Varrus celebrated as he was finally able to chip away at this behemoth.
However, Varrus¡¯ jubilation was swiftly tempered by the sturdiness of the totem ship''s lightning shield.
As a capital ship, and primary shield generator for the entire fleet, the shield was holding steady, and didn''t appear to be disappearing anytime soon.
In fact, given that the wind totem ship was powered by a spectacularly powerful elemental, one that was continuing to trouble one of, if not the strongest High Elves alive, Kael¡¯Thas, then Varrus speculated he was contending with a powerful electric based elemental as well.
Despite his seeming lack of progress in destroying this monstrous vessel, there was a silver lining.
Varrus noticed that so long as he kept the enemy occupied, the rest of the fleet lost its protection!
Realizing he had to capitalize on this fact, Varrus raised his voice to inform the nearby mages, and command staff.
¡°Lor''Themar, the shields! The shields are down! Mages, redirect your firepower!¡±
¡°Lord Vandercross has done it! Sons and daughters of Quel''Thalas, now is the time to aid your Prince! Direct your firepower at the totem ship of wind. Take it down, take it down!¡± Lor''Themar shouted, and pointed toward the intense fight happening above the clouds.
At the same time the lightning shield dropped, countless mages took this opportunity to strike at the wind elementals vessel.
Occupied by Kael and Jan''alai, the elemental could only roar in defiance, unable to protect the ship. As the totem ship took too many hits in a short amount of time, it cracked, exploded, and sank into the briny deep.
Freed from control, the wind elemental seemed to wake up from some sort of mind control control, and was rapidly weakening in relation to its previous strength. However, it was still powerful, and seemed determined to swat Kael out of the sky.
Without its bindings however, the elemental was weak to ancient High Elven sorceries. Kael¡¯Thas cast a spell, and banished the elemental back to the Elemental Plane.
The wind totem ship was destroyed, and the mages directed their wrath at another totem ship with a concentrated attack.
Rhommath, newly appointed Grand Magister of the High Elves, was leading his group of 100 in a grand ritual.
His sonorous, bass-like, magically amplified voice boomed across the open waters as he chanted.
¡°Ah Sinor-ben del¡¯ai fior¨¦.
Ah Sinor-ben del¡¯ai kn¨¹t.
Ah Sinor-ben del¡¯ai r?shah!¡±
Extreme heat and swirls of arcane lights drifted around the man as dense energies made the very air shake.
Following in his chant, the hundred mages held their hands up to the sky.
Varrus was mesmerized as he watched the mana leave their bodies, and funnel into Rhommath.
The Grand Magister held the energy for but a second, then unleashed hell.
A column made of fire spawned into existence, instantly blotting out the sky.
Morphing into the shape of a phoenix, the seemingly living fire rained fireballs into the ocean as it flew towards the enemy fire totem ship.
Wherever it passed over, Troll ships would combust, and flesh turned to ash. The heat was so intense, the Trolls didn''t even have time to scream, sizzle or burn, no they disappeared, turning into a shadow like the victims of a nuclear blast!
Varrus looked at Rhommath and the mages in awe as they casually swept away nearly a fourth of the enemy fleet in a matter of minutes.
However, it would seem conducting such a strange ritual took its toll on the one hundred, as they were eating Mana Stones like a jelly bean addict. They then themselves fed a constant stream of energy into Rhommath.
Rhommath, a Hero level character, was sweating bullets as he continued to direct the fire phoenix.
Evidently managing such a great power was not for the faint of heart!
As Varrus marveled at the death and destruction meted out by the summon, a giant fire elemental-similar in appearance to the wind elemental-emerged from the totem ship.
It swiped its gauntleted hands, conjuring up a pillar of flame in an attempt to fight fire with fire, but the phoenix flame simply flew right through it.
The phoenix screeched so loudly, it shook the sky, it then plunged beak first into the elemental.
Extreme heat merged and melted as the two powerful forces of nature brawled like a fight between kaiju.
As the fight dragged on, Rhommath¡¯s chanting speed doubled, and toxic, sludge-like blue mana goo began to seep from his eyes.
Obviously in great pain and distress, Rhommath somehow maintained his composure.
¡°Ah Sinor-ben del¡¯ai fior¨¦.
Ah Sinor-ben del¡¯ai kn¨¹t.
Ah Sinor-ben del¡¯ai r?shah!
Ah Sinor-ben del¡¯ai von¡¯motha!i¡±
Rhommath said, altering the meaning of his ritual.
His voice seemed to harmonize with some unknown cord, forcing the fire phoenix to glow blue.
The now blue flamed phoenix broke out of the stalemate, and began to eat away at the elemental. Its talons tore pieces of flame away, and its beak would devour huge chunks every few seconds.
Roaring in defiance, the elemental began to lose its orange-fire glow, flickering and dimming out. It was like a candle wick on its last tick of life, sputtering and gasping for the faintest glimmer of hope.
Reaching upward, the elemental tugged tightly on the phoenix¡¯s wings.
The fire phoenix was gripped in the elemental''s grasp, and forced into the ocean. Steam clouded the ocean, temporarily blocking Varrus¡¯ view. All he heard was great gasps of super heated air belch into the sky. He could only guess as to the outcome of this monumental struggle!
Rhommath didn¡¯t remain idle, and increased the tempo of his chanting once more.
Even more sludge-like blue goo oozed from the magister, yet his resolve was ironclad.
¡°Kiii!¡± The phoenix screeched, emerging from the ocean in an endless torrent of fire and flame. It then pierced through the center of the elementals chest, creating a gaping hole that could not be filled.
The fire elemental tried to reform its center, but blue flames licked at its wound, preventing recovery. The phoenix pressed its advantage, and proved to be relentless in its attacks. Every rip and tear made the elemental smaller, and smaller, while the phoenix seemed to get bigger and bigger.
Varrus found himself barely able to keep up his Bolide barrage as the intensity of the fight between kaiju reached its crescendo.
Victory here, Varrus surmised, would almost guarantee victory over the entire Troll army. Bereft of two totem ships, the Trolls would stand no chance against this amped up super weapon. This phoenix construct would surely be able to dust every last enemy Troll!
However, when it seemed everything was going right, the fire elemental dashed Varrus¡¯ hopes, and began to consume its own energy for one final, fiery confragulation.
Shrinking in on itself, the elemental began to dazzle the entire battlefield as it lost its orange glow, and turned into a hot white fiend.
Like a star going supernova, the elemental erupted in a brilliant explosion, taking out the summoned flame phoenix with it.
A second later, and a bright, blinding light flashed, and Varrus barely had any time to react before he found himself placed behind Rho¡¯dan.
Alongside him were the other four original guards of House Vandercross. Each decked out with enchanted gear specializing in vitality, they weathered the follow up shockwave with ease, protecting Varrus.
Wobbling to his feet, Varrus saw that the entire Elf line was askew, and out of position.
Furthermore, Rhommath and his 100 mages were out of commission. They all oozed foul smelling magical detritus, and were splayed out on the sand like a group of drunks.
The explosion had rocked the waves to such a degree that countless ships collided with one another, or were forced to sink.
Almost half of the Troll fleet arrayed against them had perished. If Pathaleon¡¯s intelligence report was to be trusted, that should be close to 20,000-30,000 Trolls dead.
Ignoring the number of Troll forces headed toward the northern front, there were perhaps 20,000~ Trolls about two minutes out from making landfall.
Roughly 10,000 Elves stood on the sands to meet them. Personally, Varrus liked those odds. In every medium, Elves always fought outnumbered. It was when the enemy were so numerous, they blotted out the sky that a force of Elves should grow concerned.
However, that didn¡¯t mean he could afford to grow cocky. The Amani had yet to unleash either the Loa possessed Trolls, or their leader, Zul¡¯Jin who was infused with all the powers of the Loa like some Avatar from the Last Airbender cartoon. They also had a sneaky shaman lurking in the background, one who hadn''t made a move since the opening salvo destroyed the cliffs, and expanded the beach head.
All things considered though, the current number of enemies arrayed against them was the best outcome they could''ve hoped for.
Varrus firmed his resolve for the upcoming battle, and mentally prepared the list of spells he would unleash. He then thought to his wife, and made a promise to himself in an attempt to fire up his fighting spirit.
¡®I will see Syra again, and I will live to make those 12 babies!¡¯
Saying a short prayer for the safety of his wife, Varrus put his faith in her, and prepared to surprise these Trolls with a troll like weapon.
Varrus¡¯ gaze became like steel as he amped himself up for the impending invasion.
The Trolls had landed.
Chapter 10
Syra pouted to herself as she took up position on the docks at the northern tip of Silvermoon.
The last five days of her marriage were the most spectacular days of her life.
Finally free from her mother''s controlling grasp, for the first time in 88 years, Syra had made a choice of her own.
Under her mother''s tutelage, Syra had been trained how to wield every weapon imaginable, and excelled at combat like none other.
Ever since she learned to walk, Syra had been chasing her mother''s favor, but it was never good enough.
When Syra learnt the cloaking magic unique to all rogues at the age of 10, Faedra didn''t so much as crack a smile.
When Syra performed her first kill, and eliminated an entire Troll scouting party at the age of 11, Faedra told her to stay in the forests until she claimed a hundred tusks, and a shamans totem.
An entire year. It took her an entire year to find the proper time and place to ambush that many Forest Trolls. During that time, she learned their language, learned how to hunt by observing their trappers, and almost died several times. She never spoke a word that entire time. Her only companions were a simple, unenchanted dagger, and a rain resistant cloak. That event marked her for the rest of her life, it was there she came to appreciate silence, and rarely if ever spoke if she could help it. Silence meant survival to that little girl, and silence was her only comfort for most of her life.
When she returned a year later at the age of 12, she found out she wasn''t special. That Faedra had been training another child to take her place.
That¡¯s when Syra found her love for gardening. During her exploration in the depths of the monster infested forests, Syra formed a deep knowledge of poison, and other useful herbs.
Particularly, she found she had quite the touch in pruning flowers.
One day, when her replacement was training before Faedra, the little boy suddenly seized, falling to his demise.
Syra was beside herself with glee, and had pressed a flower into her journal to commemorate the occasion.
Expecting anger or disappointment from her mother, Syra had prepared to run away. She had lived in the forest before, she could do so again.
However something strange occurred. She saw an odd expression on her mothers face.
A smile.
In all of Syra¡¯s memory, that was the first time she had seen Faedra direct such an expression at her.
Furthermore, her mother took her into her embrace for the first time, and cooed into her ear.
At that moment, Syra, a girl of 12 experienced parental love for the first time.
Her will to prove herself to her mother blossomed like never before.
And so she learnt the ways of the Light, and even some Arcane arts, all to please her mother.
When the Orc War happened, Faedra eagerly sent Syra to the front lines where she learned from the Humans the ability to merge the Light with a warriors abilities.
The stronger her belief in herself, the more powerful her Light magic. Others fought for their morality, Syra fought for herself.
Her thirst to prove herself as the best pushed her to train like nothing before, and master this newfound ability. Orcs fled at the sight of her, and she became the face of Elven grace and elegance.
She became unstoppable.
The Humans chased after her, unceasing in their naked lust. Syra was amused at their crazed attention, and even found herself surrounded by a small core of High Elven admirers who followed her every command. It was sort of fun to lead that bunch of bloodthirsty Elves on the hunt, Syra reminisced.
For a time, she relished in the slaughter. Syra had trained her whole life to be a weapon, a tool in her mother¡¯s palm to be used wherever she pointed. And she was content.
But when the war ended, Syra returned to Silvermoon having learnt everything her mother had to teach her with nowhere to put these skills to use. The Amani were always an option, but her mother had expressly commanded her not to engage them. Claiming she had some plot underway to undermine them from the inside, and that prematurely culling their numbers would be a waste.
Dissatisfied and with nowhere to go, Syra felt empty inside as her mother had fewer and fewer roles for her in peace time.
Syra had suggested she go out and cull some Orcs who had been lurking across the continent. She heard the Warsong Clan was causing trouble, and wanted to clash with them once more after her duel with their chieftain had ended in a draw the last time they fought.
However, her mother had denied her requests at every turn.
Syra was a tool with no use.
Without work, what was her purpose?
Unwilling to spend an eternity locked in her mother¡¯s estate, Syra, at the age of 40, finally acted upon her younger self''s desire, and ran from home.
It was while she explored the city of Silvermoon that she truly interacted with the people of her race.
They disgusted her.
Double speaking at every turn, and braggarts like no other. Highborn always went on and on about how they were related to so-and-so, or slept in bed with a member of the Royal Guard.
Gossip and rumor spilled out of every Elven mouth like water from a faucet.
People placed more importance on clout and celebrity. Than for the safety of their land.
They acted like the Orc War was just another blip in their long lives.
¡°The King will handle it.¡± The rumor mill confidently said.
People rumored to have fought in the war, however, walked the streets festooned with badges and medals proudly pinned to their chests.
Syra fought in the only unit of Elves to have engaged the Orcs. She never saw any of these so-called soldiers take part in any combat.
That''s what taught Syra how fake her people were. That the appearance of victory was more important than victory itself.
Syra had traded blows with the Doomhammer, taken on near lethal energies from the warlock Gul''dan. Slain an ogre chieftain, and was in part responsible for ending an entire tribe of Orcs.
The Orc War was brutal, and opened Syra''s eyes to the dangers of the world.
Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.
Yet her efforts were trivialized by some pompous peacock with a chest full of medals? That same buffoon received applause wherever he went. Men and women tried to woo him, and gain his favor.
That man was Highlord Vandercross, the slimiest politician to have walked the streets of Silvermoon.
Following him in a rage, Syra never would''ve imagined that it would be to a theater where a young, up and coming Varrus was performing.
When she saw him up on stage for the first time, Syra was enraptured by his magnetic voice, his silky blonde hair, and overall presentation.
By the end of the show, Syra found herself the only one clapping in a room full of stone faced Elves.
Syra didn''t care. What were these vapid, phony fakers opinions worth?
And so for the next two decades in between training and the occasional test from her mother, Syra attended every concert, every musical, every play, any and all productions performed by Varrus Vandercross.
During these heady days when Syra would follow Varrus invisibly, or catch him smiling at her while she sat in the audience, Faedra came to her with a mission.
To woo a powerful politician''s son.
A list was prepared containing acceptable targets, but there was only one name that mattered to her.
Varrus Vandercross.
Although she never spoke a word to him, she felt a strong bond with Varrus.
In him, Syra saw a youth who had undergone a challenging upbringing, just like her. She knew he must be hurting, and while he wasn''t the best actor, his failings made him genuine in her eyes.
She had to have him.
Informing her mother, Faedra responded to Syra''s decision with smug satisfaction, much to Syra¡¯s displeasure. Yet her mother was good to her word, and approached the elder Vandercross with the intention of an arranged marriage. The rest was history.
For the last five days, Syra had become acquainted with the real Varrus.
He wasn''t the flamboyant party boy he projected to the public, nor was he truly the charismatic character he attempted to portray on the stage.
Syra saw him for the damaged young man she had made him out to be. Yet for all his doubts, worries and hurt, Syra would be there for him.
And for all she gave, Varrus gave back fivefold.
He was her best friend, and a fantastic lover.
These five days of hectic love and mayhem had been more exciting, and more liberating than any other point in her life. It was magical, it was amazing, it was love!
She couldn''t help but want to make children with him, to break the curse of their terrible parents, and bring good into the world.
Syra could happily admit to herself she loved Varrus to death, and wouldn''t let anything get in the way of their happiness. Already, several of his recent admirers had been scarred by Syra¡¯s poison, and had magically induced acne all over their oh so perfect faces. Too ugly to show their face, they swiftly dropped their pursuit of her man.
As much as it hurt her to leave his side for even a moment, the space only made her realize how much she loved, missed, and thought about him. She knew he must be thinking about her just as much, or more right now as well.
But she had to do it, for the good of their children. When she took this position, she knew Sanguinar and his close friend, Thaladred would insist on following along.
Their male pride would never allow themselves to be outdone by a woman under 100 years old!
They played right into Syra¡¯s hands.
As soon as she eliminated the Trolls, Syra would be adding a new flower to her collection.
Syra beamed her smile out into the open ocean, and oncoming Troll warships.
What flower color should she choose this time? Syra wondered.
It made her squirm with joy when her husband showed interest in her flower collection.
¡®Maybe he would like purple with gold? Or blue and pink?¡¯ Syra giddily thought to herself, barely paying any attention to the rapidly closing Troll canoes.
¡°Ahem, Lady Greathollow-¡± One of her former subordinates during the Orc War began to speak, but was swiftly cut off by a swing of Syra''s sword.
The subordinate found himself on his back, with Syra''s buster sword impaled into the ground a centimeter from his neck. If they hadn¡¯t had so much fun together in the past, Syra would¡¯ve decapitated him right then and there for brokering this transgression.
¡°It is Lady Vandercross from now on.¡± Syra stated coldly.
¡°Of course, I meant no disrespect.¡± The man said as he gulped.
Syra''s hair covered her face. As she hovered over the man, her hand twitched, and she retrieved the blade.
On account of their shared bloodshed, Syra would spare him, this time.
But if there were any future mistakes, then Syra couldn''t be blamed for any future outcomes.
¡°Come now, Lady Vandercross, save the brutality for the enemy.¡± Sanguinar said as he emerged from the rank of his personal force of 100 Elites.
Syra remained mute, gave him the cold shoulder, and started to walk away. She didn''t like to talk much to begin with, much less with someone she considered as a walking corpse.
¡°Boy, join us on the winning side! The Crimson Guard could use an Elf like you!¡± Thaladred loudly exclaimed with a friendly laugh toward Syra¡¯s subordinate.
¡°Ha, ha, a jest, a jest! It is safest by Lady Syra¡¯s side!¡± The man laughed, and waved off Thaladred, much to the older man¡¯s seeming displeasure.
Syra rolled her eyes at their two-faced exchange, and continued to move towards a less dense spot in the Elven line. Whether the man sided with Thaladred or with her, it made no difference. Despite fighting for a few years together and acting as this group of veteran soldiers de facto leader, she never bothered learning their names. She suspected that they were plants, and stooges of her mother, and was not interested in speaking when she did not have to.
In her mind, they were, what did her husband call them? Yes, they were the Illidari Council. A silly name, yes. but her husband was a silly man.
Nodding her head like she had solved a great mystery, Syra was thankful once again for Varrus¡¯ addition to her life. He made her smile and laugh with his innocent antics where everyone else wanted something from her.
¡°I see the product of Faedra''s training is exactly what I would expect.¡± Sanguinar slow clapped, halting Syra in her steps. ¡°Yes, a killing blade completely bereft of tactical knowledge or strategy. Truly a work built upon a mountain of the corpses of our enemies. How proud she must be to have you defending Silvermoon in our time of need..¡±
Turning around to meet Sanguinar''s eye, Syra saw the elder statesman wear a look of honesty and humility.
It disgusted her.
Besides, what hurt most were how true his words were. All she knew how to do was kill. Advanced maneuvers or advanced plans were not a part of her curriculum. She was no leader.
How she wished her man was here so he could do all the troublesome talking.
Syra closed her eyes, and the image of Varrus smiling at her appeared in her mind''s eye.
¡°Oh, you¡¯re unfair.¡± Syra whispered to herself as she knew he would want her to choose humility over violence at that moment.
Turning to Sanguinar, Syra barely mustered up the willpower to address the soon-to-be dead man.
¡°What would you have me do?¡± Syra all but bit out, each word slipping out of her mouth felt like she was chewing on glass.
¡°Think, girl, think.¡± Sangunar said as he tapped the side of his head. ¡°You have brought with you more than a thousand Elves, yet you have them milling about, doing nothing. This dock is a ruin after the Undead passed through. All this burnt wood and debris would make for excellent cover, no?¡±
¡°Perhaps Lord Sanguinar, perhaps, but what will this wood do to stop that?¡± Syra pointed into the ocean as a monumental totem ship crashed into the broken docks, breaking them even further.
Cresting alongside the totem ship were hundreds of man sized water elementals sweeping towards the Elf line as they spoke.
¡°Damnation! Girl, you¡¯d better survive this battle because I¡¯ll see you never lead a command for the rest of your life!¡± Sanguinar cursed as he slammed his helmet on, then rejoined the Crimson Guards ranks.
Syra slowly chuckled to herself as she held her weapon free. The enchantments of protection and increased speed flowed around her body, empowering her like never before.
In this state, she knew Varrus was always with her. With him watching over her, she was undefeated!
Light energies and light rays began to be pulled through the aether, and coalesce around her as her belief in her family skyrocketed.
Syra smiled. This was it. This was the feeling. Everything she did, everything she sacrificed and devoted to over her life led to this marriage. She had never been happier to take the battlefield than these last few days.
Mages and rangers began their first volley, tossing out skills in a haphazard, uncoordinated mess. Without her husband, they were rusty, and their short time training showed it.
She however, wouldn''t deliver any speeches, or rally the army toward a specific enemy, she would do what she was made to do.
Kill.
Chapter 11
¡°Zul!¡±
¡°Zul!¡±
¡°Zul!¡±
5,000+ Forest Trolls of the northern fleet chanted as they beat upon their war drums, and blared horns.
Standing at the helm of the water totem ship, the three Troll leaders in charge of the expedition watched on as a green tide of Forest Trolls disembarked from their canoes, and charged toward the disorganized Elven line.
It didn''t take long before hundreds of Trolls fell down to fire magic, or enchanted arrows. However, even many would-be fatal flames or arrows to the heart did not instantly kill the Trolls.
Due to the totem ship of water, a constant, rejuvenating aura fell upon the invaders. Combine this with the Troll¡¯s natural healing factor, and the only effective way for the Elves to guarantee a Troll kill was to turn the head into char/much, or give them a full decapitation.
Otherwise, the Trolls would simply laugh off any attacks to their limbs or chest like they were nothing.
In fact, this carnage served as a trigger for the Trolls¡¯ bloodlust ro activate. The more wounded they became, the crazier their berserker rage they experienced.
Axes and spears came down so fast in that state, that the speed of a Troll almost matched that of the Elves.Unmatched ferocity met precision and skill, naked muscle pressed into armored enchanted armor. The melee was brutal and vicious.
Heads went flying, Elves were crushed within their armor after repeated blunt force trauma, and Troll limbs showered the docks purple with blood.
The scent of Troll blood was so thick, and spilled in such large quantities, it had many an Elf retching at the smell, and the sanguine substance ran the ocean violet for a time.
The Elves were pressed from all sides, and it looked like they would buckle at any moment.
¡°This almost seems almost too easy.¡± Nalarakk, the Troll containing the Loa bear spirit said as he shook his head in confusion.
Nalarakk''s face, and upper quartile of his body were all in the form of a bear. The blessing of the Loa also made him a giant among Trolls. His nearly 9ft height placed him in a tier similar to that of an ogre warlord.
¡°See? It be like Hexlord Malacrass predicted, mon! Easy pickins! We gonna be eating fine Elf food and tastin Elf women till our bellies be full! Tell''em Akandii!¡± Akil''zon, the Troll keeper of the Loa eagle spirit replied in good cheer.
Akil''zon''s head was that of an eagle, yet his limbs were like that of any other Troll. He stood slightly taller than Nalarakk, yet where Nalarakk was stocky, Akil''zon was lanky.
The third and final leader of the flanking force, Akandii was a stone-faced, Forest Troll festooned in an armor made of the bones of his enemies. His ears were covered by the tips of Elf ears, and a head of flame colored hair crested his green scalp.
¡°Pah. Doesn''t matter. You do your job, and I''ll do mine.¡± Akandii spat onto the boat deck, then turned to a group of similarly clad bone armored individuals.
¡°Shadow Hunters, today we avenge our people. You know what they took from us. Make them bleed.¡± Akandii said in a deep, gravelly voice.
He then jumped off the boat, and disappeared using a rogues camouflage. His unit of 50 subordinates followed after him-each one carrying a totem in their hands-disappeared from plain sight.
¡°Carrying out sneak-thief kills, how dishonorable.¡± Nalarakk shook his head and growled.
¡°Kah, Kah, Kah! You sure be funny mon! Not all ah us are as strong as you! Sides, you heard him, thus fight be a long time coming. Before Elves, before Man, this land belonged to de Amani! It is our land!¡± Akil''zon said, and thumped the ships floorboard with a taloned birds foot.
¡°Hmm, perhaps you are right my friend. Perhaps you are right. I, however, question Hexlord Malacrass¡¯ plan to send the great totem of water on this front.¡± Nalarakk said as he snorted hot air onto his chest.
¡°Be careful what you be sayin mon, that''s borderline treason.¡± Akil''zon said while lowering the timbre in his voice.
¡°Bahaha, who do you think you''re trying to intimidate with that squeaky voice!? I remember when you were trying to woo that lady, what''s her name? If it wasn''t for me, you''d still be a virgin! Bahahaha!¡± Nalarakk belly laughed, and slapped Akil''zon so hard, the bird hybrid almost fell to the deck.
¡°Hey, hey, I''m just tryin ta look out for ya mon, dee Hexlord got eyes and ears everywhere.¡± Akil''zon whispered conspiratorially.
¡°That''s what has me worried my friend. True, Malacrass is an amazing shaman, with his help, we have merged with the Loa, and become demigods! But by what power did he bind them to us? What dark pact was made so that we may have this revenge upon the damned sissies?¡± Nalarakk grinned his teeth so hard after he spoke, his companion took a step back in fear.
¡°Easy now, easy. The Chief trusts him, so that has to count for someting, no?¡± Akil''zon lifted his hands to assuage his friend.
¡°Well, just keep an eye out is all I''m saying.¡± Nalarakk said, shaking his hand as if he was unconvinced.
¡°For you mon, anything, I-hmm, why haven''t the Elves collapsed yet?¡± Akil''zon pointed toward the battlefield in confusion.
The Highborn, outnumbered 4 to 1 had formed a circle so as not to be completely surrounded.
Nalarakk assumed the Elves would fall in a matter of minutes, but the fight had been dragging on and on, yet the Elves held on.
In fact, Nalarakk could hardly spot any fair skinned corpses!
Taking a closer look, he saw that the Elves¡¯ armor would brightly glow a white flash whenever a Troll would strike them. It was only when a Troll attacked quickly in succession, or attacked with two or three allies that they could breach the white shield, and hit the Elf underneath.
By then, typically a Troll would be forced back with a temporarily debilitating injury, or they would be slain, dead forever.
The way things were going, the Trolls were slowly being whittled away while the Elves suffered hardly any casualties!
Gripping the railing, Nalarakk prepared himself to jump down and change the battle in their favor when Akil''zon held him back.
¡°No mon, listen! What happened to the summoned water elementals!? Or the other fifth of the army! We was sposed ta outnumbered the Elves 5 to 1, not 4 to 1! I smell a trap!¡± Akil''zon hurriedly exclaimed in an effort to halt Nalarakk in his tracks.
Nalarakk growled deeply, the Loa inside him cried for battle, fueling his bloodlust. He would not be denied!
Swiping away his friend''s grasp, Nalarakk jumped off the water totem ship, and began to run toward the enemy.
¡°With me beastkin!¡± Nalarakk roared toward a group of 100 shamanistic Forest Trolls who, through his connection with the Loa, were also imparted with the physical traits of bears.
The beastkin, who had lost their ability to speak roared back at Nalarakk, and followed in his footsteps.
Their running shook the earth as they moved like a stampede.
He ran forward when suddenly his supernatural instincts granted to him by the Loa spirit screamed at him to dodge.
Jumping forward in a front flip, Nalarakk felt a swoosh of air below his feet right where his neck would''ve been.
Nalarakk had luckily escaped death, however 10 of his companions who were following behind weren''t so fortunate.
The ten beastkin were completely bisected from the waist down as a sword almost as long as he was tall flickered with a dangerous golden light.
¡®Poor bastards.¡¯ Nalarakk thought to himself as the warriors who didn''t instantly lose their organs began to have their skin close around their waistline.
The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.
The effect of their natural healing factor combined with the effects of the totem ship kept them alive, but without the ability to even take a shit, these Trolls were doomed to a torturous death.
Nalarakk took the rage he was feeling at their unfair fates, and charged toward the Elf bitch.
¡°A Hero! Our battle shall be legendary!¡± Nalarakk giddily charged at this new foe-a tiny blonde Elf lady-with his claws extended.
The Elf bitch effortlessly swung her blade so quickly, Nalarakk couldn''t even mentally process it.
All he could do was once more rely on his instincts, and test his reflexes against her superior speed.
Nalarakk performed several hops and leaps, yet he could never close the distance with her!
Several knicks and cuts began to accumulate all over his body, and he was coated in his own blood. To add insult to injury, the little Elf bitch was smirking at him the entire time!
¡°Grah!¡± Nalarakk lunged forward, swiping his claws where he thought she would dodge.
¡®Got you!¡¯ Nalarakk internally celebrated, only to swipe at nothing but air.
¡°My mother hits harder than you.¡± A bell-like voice spoke in Trollish from behind.
Nalarakk dropped to his belly, then rolled to the side, evading an explosive attack.
The land cratered into a furrow where her sword landed, and light rays exploded from the cracks. The holy energy permeated the ground, and burnt his feet every second he stood upon it.
Every moment he fought her, his flesh would sizzle, regrow, sizzle regrow, sizzle regrow.
Now while he dodged her impossibly fast attacks, Nalarakk was in some kind of mood.
This was not the great war that he had signed up for!
¡°You bitch! You¡¯re no honorable warrior!¡± Nalarakk said in accusation.
¡°Says the Troll who battled a little girl like me 101 to 1?¡± The Elf paused for a moment and titled her head in mockery, dodging Nalarakk¡¯s swipe in the process.
¡°You find this amusing, huh?!¡± Nalarakk kept talking so he could find some time to catch his breath.
His Loa granted him super stamina, and the totem had been healing all his wounds, yet the tiny Elf bitch had cut him literally thousands of times. That. That had taken a toll on him.
And the damn glowing floor! It was a holy magical spell, and while the constant sizzling and regeneration was bearable, what was slowly driving him mad was the itching!
¡°You¡¯re funny. I haven¡¯t killed a talker in a while, they always have the most amusing look of disbelief upon their faces when I slice them in half. I only wish my husband could see me taking care of you. I wonder what he would compliment? My sword skills? Or maybe the Light burning the ground of my enemies? What do you think?¡± The crazy bitch asked him with the biggest shit eating grin.
This damned woman was playing with him this entire time! She had to know the itch she was inflicting upon him. The itch to pummel her into meat paste and beyond!
Well no more!
He was convinced that she was unable to cut through his sturdy skin, which is why she only nicked him, or left him with long slices along the biceps and chest.
So to change the game, what if he transformed into his Loa state? He¡¯d be untouchable, speed be damned!
Nalarakk had tried to do the honorable thing, and face her in his hybrid form, we''ll! It was time to see how she fared against a god!
¡°This is the price for mocking Trollkind!¡± Nalarakk shouted as his form began to undergo a metamorphosis.
Within a couple seconds, his 9ft tall hybrid bear/Troll body transformed into a 30ft tall bear!
Nalarakk didn''t waste any time, and immediately slammed his giant paws onto the ground.
Shaministic magic spread throughout the area, and an earthquake caved in the area all around him.
¡°RUUUAAHHHH!!!¡± Nalarakk raised his massive bears head toward the sky, and roared in victory.
His celebration was cut short, however as he heard an annoying voice talk down to him from the top of his head.
¡°Roar, roar, roar, it¡¯s all you can do. I was curious what your transformation would be, so I held back, but what a disappointment.¡±
¡°Blather all you want woman, I know you can¡¯t cut me with that toothpick, bahahaha!¡± Nalarakk rumbled with laughter.
Nalarakk decided it was time to end this farce. He had his fun, but every second wasted was a second more innocent Troll blood would be needlessly spilled.
Raising his head, Nalarakk was about to roll all over the place until he squished the annoying bug, however his vision was suddenly seeing double.
Huh?
Why could he see two halves of the Elf bitch?
¡°Huh, I was expecting another transformation, or for the head to grow back. How disappointing.¡± The Elf said as if she had her favorite plaything taken from her.
¡°Biiiitch.¡± Nalarakk growled out as he felt himself lose consciousness forever.
¡°Hmm, now all that remains is the cleanup. Once I take care of that pest, I wonder what Varrus will reward me with? Oh I can¡¯t wait!¡± Syra giddily placed a blood stained finger to her cheek as she considered how to mutilate Sanguinar while he was within the midst of dueling the bird Loa.
While she was considering how to enact her plan, her followers, those on the ¡®Illidari Council¡¯ were engaged in mortal combat with the water elemental bound to the totem ship. Syra was unconcerned with their safety, and saw that they had things well in hand. Already, more than half of the Trolls were lying on the ground dead or in the process of being killed. Her husband¡¯s mastery of enchanting sent pride shivering from her toes to the tips of her ears.
Ooo, she loved, loved, loved that beautiful, intelligent man!
¡®All the more reason to delete his political foe.¡¯ Syra reminded herself as her eyes zeroed in on them.
The duo, Sanguinar, and Thaladred were handily pressing the bird back, almost slaying it at the same time that Syra had finished her end of the fight.
¡®Well we can¡¯t have it end that cleanly, can we?¡¯ Syra smiled to herself, and ran towards the fight.
Dicing 200 Trolls into piles of purple sludge along the way, Syra arrived at the fight near instantaneously, and kicked the bird Loa in the beak, pushing it away from Sanguinar¡¯s fatal blow.
¡°What are you doing child!? I had him within my clutches!¡± Sanguinar fumed.
¡°You had better go after him, otherwise the Amani chieftain will be undefeatable.¡± Syra pointed out.
The bird Loa, seemingly aware of his impending doom up and left the scene, seemingly flying randomly into the city in a desperate bid to escape his demise.
¡°This isn¡¯t over little girl.¡± Thaladred growled, then dashed after the Loa.
Sanguinar, hot on his heels, gave chase as well.
Syra smiled to herself, and began to follow behind at a sedate pace.
Once they were within the city proper, they came across a confusing battle of Troll rangers, and Elve dressed in odd outfits fit only for circus performers.
Syra¡¯s smile became crooked as she recognized her mother¡¯s subordinates. She was tempted to quarrel with them for all the hazing they had subjected her to over the years, but her mission came first.
Now that there were no witnesses of any consequence, Syra took out a scrying orb, and set it to record. She then began reciting the mantra to a spell. The next couple of minutes were sure to be amusing.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Thaladred had felt out of it ever since he lost to that brat. His rage had become an inferno that he unleashed upon Troll after Troll. Their blood became the elixir to wash away his shame.
Yet despite relishing in his favorite pastime, something still felt off. He couldn¡¯t place it, but ever since that brat had cut him within the dark field he had cast, he had a queasy feeling.
Thinking about it, he thought he overheard Sanguinar mention something about the lass being Faedra¡¯s daughter? Perhaps he had unwittingly been poisoned.
Hmph. He would have to seek Sanguinar¡¯s counsel after this war with the Trolls was over. As long as his friend was around, he would know what to do.
Thaladred nodded to himself, happy that he could leave all the heavy thinking to his best friend, and he could do all the easy things like smashing all the opponents that got in their way.
¡°Thaladred, enough daydreaming, I have the beast pinned, finish it!¡± Sanguinar yelled, breaking THaladred out of his fugue.
Approaching the Troll-bird hybrid, Thaladred saw that Sanguinar had cast a rope of pure mana onto the Trolls wings, and had it right where he wanted him.
Thaladred raised his axe high, preparing to take the life of this filth when suddenly, he felt his vision warp. Thinking it was nothing but a petty trick to mess with him, Thaladred roared out, and released the mana in his body to purge his mind of any malicious magics. At the same time, he brought his axe down with great fury.
As soon as the mana cleared his system, Thaladred¡¯s vision returned to normal, and he was at a loss as to what was going on.
It had to be a joke! It simply had to be!
Resting beneath his axe was the half severed head of his best friend, and long time comrade.
The ancient Elf blinked up at Thaladred, unable to utter a word as his mouth moved for a few seconds before turning slack.
¡°Sanguinar¡no!¡± Thaladred roared in anger as his eyes turned towards the bird Loa in uncontrolled rage.
¡°Idiot! I played no part in this!¡± The bird Loa cawed, then fled as Sanguinar¡¯s binding dissipated.
From the second floor of a nearby building, Syra turned off the recording feature of her scrying orb, and softly chuckled into her hand.
Incriminating evidence in hand, Syra decided she would be confronting the brute at a later time.
For now, she would finish off the Loa, and the Trolls on the docks, then go support her husband.
Taking one last glance at the deceased man who dared refuse Varrus his seat on the Convocation, Syra clenched her fist in pride. They were a team, and she would never let anyone threaten her family without paying the price!
Chapter 12
Once more in her home of Murder Row, Faedra gently tapped her well manicured nails on the arms of her chair with one hand, while the other hand gently stroked a fluffy black cat.
In a room with 8 other individuals, it was the only audible noise as all sounds coming in and out of the room were muffled.
Darkness crept around the edges of the meeting chamber, the only light illuminating the room were dozens of pale projections, as well as a map in the middle of the room that depicted Silvermoon.
Faedra''s dark robes ate at the shadows, practically making her invisible in the low light environment. The only thing visible to the others were her cold, pale magically infused blue eyes.
Orbs were placed all over the place, displaying events from all around the world.
A blonde boy no older than 8 was holding court. Behind him stood two advisors. One was a bodacious black haired woman,the other was a muscular, plate armored man.
Another display showed images of Dalaran as it was overrun by Undead. The city of magic was toppling over as flames consumed it. Corpses were strewn everywhere as citizens attempted to flee.
One image showed the savage Orcs working together with both a tribe of Trolls, and the Tauren in a brutal fight to the death with a herd of Centaur.
Faedra drank this information in, and more in an instant.
Plans and pieces to be moved flashed in her mind, yet for all the current events, one screen held her attention above all else.
It was a recording of Silvermoon losing its barrier, and the Scourge entering unopposed.
Completely taken off guard, the entire population of Silvermoon were like lambs to the slaughter.
She must¡¯ve watched this moment a dozen times. Rewinding, fast forwarding, pausing, she was fascinated.
The more she did so, the more uncomfortable her compatriots became.
¡®Good. Let them squirm.¡¯ Faedra scoffed to herself.
Their failure at ascertaining the traitor¡¯s identity had brought this upon all of them.
The one day she was away from her lair, the one and only day of her precious daughter¡¯s marriage, this happens.
She had been in the game for quite some time, and had foiled countless plots to destroy her nation.
Faedra had spied for both the Convocation and the Monarchy for thousands of years, switching sides whenever convenient.
Unworthy royals that sought the throne no matter the cost had died at Sunstrider''s command.
Dirt was dug up on those who hated Vandercross, and were socially exiled.
The two men interchangeably transitioned between friend, and enemy as the centuries dragged on. After much of her plotting, they had finally settled on a healthy rivalry built upon mutual respect. They would never like each other, no, but when someone fights another for so long, they become accustomed to how they think, how they operate. The balance of power was set, and neither was willing to off the other in fear of introducing an unknown element. That was how Faedra brokered peace, and earned their begrudging acceptance despite her reputation.
Free from the burdens of the state, she had free reign to eliminate their political rivals.
None were safe from her inquiry.
A delicate tightrope of lies, deceit and murder held Quel''Thalas together by the thickness of a spider''s thread. All it would take would be one accidental death here and there, and civil war between the Monarchists and the Convocationists would ensue.
The Highborn would destroy five thousand years of peace because of petty politics, and a desire to rule. It was hilarious, really. How many pompous royals confided in her, plotting to kill their own father, only for her to toss them off a cliff? Or how many would-be assassins thought highly of themselves, and came to her Murder Row with the express purpose of killing Vandercross? It truly was laughable at how fragile their illusion of stability truly was.
And no one would believe that she, the so-called Mistress of Murder had done the most to keep it all from falling apart.
She plotted for centuries to seduce King Anasterian and conceive his child. Killed his royal usurpers, and guided that daughter into the family of Anasterian''s largest political rival.
It was her that orchestrated Prince Kael¡¯Thas¡¯ targeted bullying. It was her that spread rumors of Varrus¡¯ inadequacy in magic, leading him into delinquency.
Highlord Vandercross, for all his sterm and bluster, genuinely loved his son, and wanted him to be happy in his acting career. Whereas King Anasterian similarly loved his son.
Their love was their weakness, and Faedra''s key to peace.
United by bonds of friendship and marriage, the largest rift between the Convocation and the Monarchy would be mended.
The Quel''Dorei, united behind one political will, would finally emerge from the shadow of the destruction of the Well of Eternity, and become a leading player in the world.
At least, that was Faedra''s long term plan before the Scourge attacked.
The Scourge, a ragtag mob of mindless Undead comprised primarily of peasants and bottom feeders. The Scourge, who¡¯s military leadership consisted of mages unknowing of tactics or strategy. This force of plague and rot had somehow gotten the better of them.
Arrogance was the only answer to their downfall. So sure of the powers of the Sunwell, so sure in their own strength-Faedra included-they had all ignored the Ranger General¡¯s warnings, and decided to hide behind the great citywide barrier like always.
In their arrogance, they all but invited this catastrophe upon themselves.
Millions, perhaps tens of millions had laid siege to Silvermoon. Anasterian was impressive in his defense. He was truly deserving of the title: Greatest King of the High Elves. He personally combusted hundreds of thousands Undead before his death. Ultimately however, his sacrifice proved fruitless as the vast ice magics available to the damned Prince were mighty in turn.
Arthas was known to Faedra as a once in a generation talent. His power in the Light was greater than even her pride and joy, Syra. It irked her that a 20 year old Human could wield power greater than her own flesh and blood, but the facts remained. Returning to Lordaeron as a Death Knight, his powers had more than doubled since the last time she had seen him.
Poor Anasterian had fallen to the boy, and proved unable to defeat their greatest enemy since the Legion. The only solace of his death was that he incinerated his own body in one big bang attack so the enemy would not benefit from his power, and his expertise.
Oh, how Faedra wished to tear her hair out, and cut the throat of every subordinate here at their monumental failure!
Tapping her finger on the chair, Faedra ceased any movement, and finally graced her subordinates'' with a look of utter contempt.
Dressed like circus performers, Faedra cursed their unprofessionalism. Black should be the standard color for all her operatives, yet corralling thousand year olds to do spywork took concessions. Concessions that were trying her patience.
Every century they would change their theme, and make a game of not getting caught. Honestly, they were no better than children playing at mummery, but she had little choice in the talent willing to work for her.
For a race immune to disease and death, there was little impetus to leave Silvermoon, much less put your life on the line by spying or assassinating the enemy.
Stolen novel; please report.
So she had looked the other way at their many, many antics.
Faedra considered herself a fair leader, providing her operatives with enough leeway to complete the mission.
But this? This was just¡just.
¡°Sloppy. Unprofessional. Despicable.¡± Every word Faedra spat out seemed to make each operative flinch in their seats, inflicting emotional damage.
Good.
Sweeping back her raven black hair, Faedra''s face was stone cold, yet a cruel smile slowly began to curl toward the corner of her mouth.
¡°It seems the Trolls find us easy targets.¡± Faedra slowly drawled as some flashing lights on the map of Silvermoon drew her attention.
The map depicted tiny pin pricks of light. Each dot of light constituted one individual. The map detected people based on the type of magic they emitted, then from there determined what species they were. Based upon this, a color corresponding to the magic type, and a symbol for depicting the species appeared on the grid.
Arcane was blue, Holy yellow, Void purple, Fel green, Shamanistic white, Druidic green, etc.
Each dot signifying a Troll had a little squat, tusked face the size of a pinkies fingernail.
Swiping at an orb, the display screen changed frequencies, and depicted the edges of Silvermoon where the map pinged the Trolls.
However, the street was completely bereft of any sight of them.
¡°As expected, the asset has informed us about this unit ahead of time.¡± Faedra spoke curtly, and handed out a manilla folder to each operative present.
¡°Woah! Akandii! I''ve heard about this guy. Absolutely brutal. In fact, he even killed one of our own.¡± An operative said chillingly.
Faedra knew her subordinate was attempting drama, but she wasn''t having any of it. ¡°Intelligence reports indicate their objective is to cause mass panic. They are each armed with a totem, however, the asset could not determine their function, be advised.¡±
¡°Only 51? Please, Mom, allow us to handle this small matter!¡± An Elf dressed as a jester stood from his chair, and bowed over dramatically. His cap, festooned with bells, jangled loudly in the eerily quiet room.
¡°Yes, please let us make this up to you!¡± A petite lady no taller than 4¡¯8 dressed in a maid outfit, and carrying a pair of daggers begged.
¡°The cards say sure fire success!¡± A man dressed as a carny clairvoyant said as he shuffled a deck.
Seeing all their pleading gazes, Faedra couldn''t help but want to scrunch her eyebrows, then toss them all into a cell to reflect upon themselves.
They were stupid, but they were her stupid.
¡°Oh very well, let the games begin, but do be kind to little Akandii, he is one of my operatives.¡± Faedra sighed as she tiredly waved then away with one hand, then rested her face in the palm of her other hand
The operatives cheered, and left the dark room of shadow, displaying flamboyantly colored outfits as they entered the light.
¡°Yay! I bet I can get one to kill his friend!¡±
¡°So what? I''ll get one to kill himself¡with words alone!¡±
¡°Let''s go!¡±
¡°See you Mom~, wait for our good news!¡±
When everyone left, Faedra let herself have a small smile at their antics. She knew they were only trying to cheer her up.
Each and every one of them had been orphans she raised herself. Perhaps she treated them as tools at first, but spending a thousand years together didn''t make using them as such any easier. Not one of them was disposable in her heart.
A beat later, and Faedra deflated. The loss this time almost made her want to throw in the towel, and give it all up. Her failure to root out the traitor, and her failure to assassinate Prince Arthas had contributed toward Silvermoon''s downfall. Retirement was looking better everyday.
But seeing her plan almost come to fruition after so many years kept her going. It lit a fire in her to keep on going. To out last her rivals in the quest for power would be her greatest reward.
After all, their demise was somewhat poetic.
The entire Convocation slain, betrayed by an egoist of the highest order. They personally safeguarded the very font of High Elf power, yet fell to their own arrogance. Anasterian was the first to deny the Humans aid in the face of this plague, yet his demise was at hand by those same victims.
Faedra found it ironic that the most snakelike politicians in all of Quel''Thalas would die to a dagger in the back, and that the King most beloved for his fairness and kindness met his demise due to a cold shoulder to former friends.
It made her think about how she would die. By her daughter''s hand most likely, Faedra mused.
Ah, how sweet would that be? To die by the product of her own hand, it was almost tempting.
She had plotted the courtship of House Vandercross and Sunstrider for centuries, all towards the goal of unifying their peoples political future onto one road.
¡®Perhaps it was a dream worth dying for.¡¯ Faedra found herself musing.
It was a dream that continued to raise her blood pressure.
The Vandercross lad, afterall, was quite the surprise. In all her calculations, the brat was nothing more than a mouthpiece fed lines of dialogue Faedra knew would inspire Syra the most.
She had psychoanalyzed the boy once, and written him off as a dandy man. One who spoke big, relying solely on his father¡¯s intimidating name.
But no, he was something else. Something Faedra had yet to understand herself.
Was he truly acting all along? If so, was he aware of Faedra''s manipulation, and played along?
Or was Varrus perhaps particularly skilled at magic, but weak in other areas?
His magical ability 5 days ago seemed passing for a novice apprentice. The spells were somewhat novel, being one''s she had never seen before. However, the magic¡¯s strength wasn''t anything like what an Elite or Hero could output.
Yet 5 days later, and Varrus had earned himself a spot amongst the Heroes of Quel''Thalas by his personal strength alone.
His abilities were by literal definition: immeasurable.
And it confused her whether he was deliberately looking weak or not. She didn''t know what his game was, and it made her uncomfortable like his father did when he was still alive.
However, Varrus was a walking contradiction. Because based on his speaking performance, Faedra wasn''t particularly impressed with his communication abilities.
The boy had ample opportunities to play the leader of Quel''Thalas''s dragonhawk knights right into his hands, yet he was seemingly saved from civil war due to the son, Koren¡¯s sudden betrayal.
That sudden stab into Tou''vor''s neck even startled Faedra. She didn''t know if it was Varrus''s plan all along, or if his personal charisma was that much.
Surely he had something going for him if he could rally a somewhat cohesive army to combat the Undead. Because at that point in time, no matter how synonymous the name Vandercross was with leadership in Elven society, there wasn''t a single Elf above the age of 500 that would willingly follow a green behind the ears, milk drinking, sissy haired, soft spoken, kitten faced youth under a century old.
Faedra hadn''t seen such levels of charisma since the old Vandercross won the Quel''Dorei over with Mana Stones during their exile to these lands.
She was worried that with his growing power-both political and magical-he would grow arrogant like his father, and come to loggerheads with the crown.
As for Prince Kael¡¯Thas, she didn''t see much confidence in him. The boy was not taking well to the weight of responsibility. Heavy indeed, was the crown. She would have to observe him further, and possibly directly intervene if he needed her help. The fact he had held off on naming himself King was quite the concern.
However, the more things changed, the more they stayed the same. Vandercross and Anasterian were not so impressive until they came virtually out of nowhere, seizing leadership like a tyrant taking his first concubine. Faedra couldn''t help but chuckle at the similarities between the older generation, and the youth of today.
Would Varrus and Kael¡¯Thas become their fathers, or would they forge a new path? Would her own daughter usurp her as the Mistress of Murder Row? Only time would tell.
While she was musing, she heard a hurried crash, and watched as one of her operatives frantically ran through a supply closet in the room, then ran away just as fast, all without saying a word.
Faedra had seen such an occurrence enough times, she wasn''t surprised. She was exasperated.
¡°Idiots probably forgot their stealth detection potions again.¡± Faedra muttered to herself, closed her eyes, and gently banged the back of her head against the backrest of her chair.
She had better things to do than worry about those insufferable clowns.
Flicking an orb, the image changed and displayed the main battle. It was one of her greatest blunders. As an immortal bent on rekindling Quel¡¯Thalas¡¯ supremacy, she had raised entire generations of families in other kingdoms loyal exclusively to her.
The spies she had planted within the Amani occupied influential positions, and with that influence, she had directed them to wage war against Quel¡¯Thalas, hoping that they would mutually destroy the Scourge and the Amani, leaving the Highborn time to recover.
It was a genius plan, pitting their greatest enemies against one another. Only, she did not account for Varrus Vandercross, and Kael¡¯Thgas Sunstrider destroying the bulk of the Undead within Silvermoon as swiftly as they did. There was hope for her people with leaders like them, it was an oversight she was only all too pleased with.
As threatening as the Amani were, and as much of a blunder as she had made, Faedra was unconcerned. Her agent was high up the totem among Amani society, and she was confident in the strength of both her daughter, Quel¡¯Thalas¡¯ two new champions.
Zooming in on Varrus¡¯ face with her scrying orb, Faedra allowed a smirk.
Stupid and oafish he may appear on the surface, but Faedra could see the appeal. Ah, to be young again!
In the same screen, one of her old flings, Lor¡¯Themar showed up, and she reminisced upon old flames.
Summoning a goblet of wine, Faedra curled up in her seat, and began to enjoy the show.
¡°Enjoy him while you can, Syra my dear, you must cherish every second of it!¡± Faedra said to herself, holding the goblet aloft.
Chapter 13
Varrus shaded his eyes, and took in the mass of Forest Trolls as they made landfall.
Despite culling nearly half of the Troll fleet, the green tide disembarking from their ships was so numerous, it was astounding.
The lightning storm from earlier had cut away a mile+ long strip of land, exposing the Elven line to the numerically superior Troll army.
In response, the commander of the battlefield, and Ranger General, Lor''Themar, was forced to spread the 10,000+ Elven soldiers thin so as to secure their flanks. Elven combat doctrine typically centered around locking the enemy down in place, then pummeling them to death with a never ending torrent of Arcane power. They especially excelled at individual combat, and were effective when spread out so that they could utilize their superior speed and skill, as opposed to Orcs or Humans that benefitted from dense formations or wild charges.
Ideally, they would be able to force the Trolls to do all their fighting in the water, limiting the enemy¡¯s mobility, and eventually force a retreat, or drown them at sea.
Trolls, no matter how determined (or stupid), were creatures possessing intelligence, and could feel fear. Complete destruction wasn¡¯t necessarily the goal for the Elven force, and they would be happy if the Trolls fled, like they had done so many times in the past.
However, the vast majority of Elves were not front line combatants, and spreading out enough that they could press the Trolls into the sea would be a difficult task. For every 1 warrior or paladin, there were 2 mages, and 4 rangers.
The bow was considered the favorite weapon of the Elves because it could be practiced to perfection, and required much less mental power than performing a spell. It was all training, and muscle memory.
While mages held the highest prestige amongst all Highborn, it was a profession that took long hours spent studying dusty tomes. Whereas even the most casual Elf could pick up a bow, and appear as if they were a master.
It was no exaggeration to say that based on culture and racial traits, amateur Elf archers were as skilled as a Human who had trained all his life in a bow. Then for the Elves that were truly dedicated to that craft, they could apply poison to their bolts, or even learn a few basic spells that turned their arrows into magic missiles.
Varrus had no doubt that thousands of Trolls would stain the beach with purple blood before they so much as touched an Elf''s fair hair. Yet their vast numbers could make up all the difference.
Furthermore, it wasn''t as if the Trolls didn''t have bows of their own. Certainly, they didn''t have as strong of a culture as the Elves, but they were partially a hunter gatherer society. Their archers were certain to be deadly, especially since, while slower to the draw than their Elf counterparts, the Trolls would be able to rain down enough arrows, they would darken the sky.
Already an exchange of arrows and magic was underway. Lightning blasted the Elf line, only to be met with the return of a fireball.
Troll shamans planted totems, providing shields, and healing burnt flesh.
Elf priests likewise placed shields around the troops, and the line of warriors was soon coated in shimmering translucent golden bubbles.
Pandemonium and chaos ensued as the ranged combatants started firing upon one another. Magic arrows exploded within Troll flesh, and countless poisoned shots took Elves out of commission until they were detoxified.
During the Trolls landing, Kael¡¯Thas and Jan''alai had begun attacking the totem ship of lightning, freeing Varrus up to focus on the beach.
Wracking his brain for a solution to this crisis, Varrus double checked his perks one more time, checking to see if there was anything that could help him turn the tables.
Out of all of them, War of the Elements - You deal 40% more attack damage to targets that are taking damage from the burning ground created by Conflagration, Scorched Earth or Pyromancer Ascension or are being affected by Electroconvulsions or Hypothermia.
Scorched Earth - Fire spells (except concentration spells) burn corpses to cinders, creating a pyre that burns for 30 seconds. The burning ground deals 50 points of damage per second for 5 seconds on contact.
And:
Conflagration - Fire spells ignite the ground underneath their targets for 30 seconds. The burning ground deals 8 points of damage per second for 3 seconds on contact.
Synergized well in this mass battle.
As he came upon the Expert skill level in Destruction, Varrus had once more increased his repertoire of available spells.
In a mass AOE battle, one of the spells that interested him most was Bombardment.
The spell Bombardment was defined as: A steady stream of exploding projectiles that deal 50 points of damage per second.
Varrus theorized that Bombardment would act much like a never ending chain of cannon fire. As they exploded, they would create a concussion force knocking down, and covering enemies in shrapnel.
In effect, it was as if an artillery piece was suddenly converted into a machine gun. As Troll regeneration was countered by fire, it was the perfect weapon in Varrus¡¯ arsenal for this engagement.
However, going through his spell list Varrus noticed that there were two vanilla Skyrim spells that could cause havoc.
First was the Fire Rune. A mere Apprentice level spell, the circular runes could act as the perfect land mine, and ultimate deterrent.
The Trolls may be blood crazed savages, but they weren''t stupid. They valued their lives. If Varrus could mine up an entire side of the wide open, mile+ long beachhead, then he would force the enemy to funnel into the Elves'' well reinforced center.
Combine the runes with the perk Ancient Seals, and any enemy without magic resistance would lose over 100% of their vitality in as short as 10 seconds!
Ancient Seals - Destruction runes no longer deal instant damage, but inflict a stacking 10 second elemental burn that deals 15% damage per second.
As for his second idea, he had thought about it for some time now, and put it into play when the time came. For now, he needed to move, and move fast. The longer he delayed, the sooner the Forest Trolls would have the opportunity to flank their sides.
The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.
As soon as Varrus thought up his plan, he began to act upon it immediately.
¡°Lor''Themar, I shall secure the left flank! Concentrate your men in the center and right!¡± Varrus shouted at the Ranger General, then left, leaving the older Elf with no chance to countermand him.
¡°Come Rho''dan, Helios, my Crossguard, to death and glory!¡± Varrus motioned toward his followers, then ran towards the left side of the beach.
By the time he got there, he witnessed the dozen or so arcane golems struggling to hold the line. Their massive bodies stomped on Troll skulls, and crushed bones, but it wasn''t enough.
Soon, one by one, the golems were chopped away by enchanted stone tipped axes, and blasted by electric balls produced by shaministic magic.
Once a golem would fall to its knees, and have its central power crystal exposed, it would take on a bright hue, then explode itself in an arcane explosion.
Anything standing within a 10ft radius of the golem would be instantly vaporized, and those within 20ft suffered light burns.
Between their crushing power, and arcane explosions, the golems, despite their small number, eliminated over 200 Trolls before destruction.
At 16 kills per golem death, the semi-autonomous killing machines covered in Elven metal had acquitted themselves well considering they were outnumbered 1,000 to 1.
Varrus could only imagine what kind of carnage the golems were capable of when supported by archers, mages and field artillery. Like a tank in WW2, the golem was most effective when it fought in a company of units, as opposed to being strictly a company of tanks.
One day, Varrus would see about making flying golems like the drones of Earth, but for now, he had to stop, stall, and slay as many of the invading bastards as possible.
The golems had done their job delaying the Trolls. Now it was his turn.
Varrus didn''t take the time bought by the golems sacrifice needlessly either.
While the Trolls were being held up in the shallow waters, Varrus was slapping down hundreds of runes.
Fortunately they didn''t disappear after a certain limit was reached. Like the change in summons, runes also underwent a slight alteration.
So long as the rune had mana in it, it would last until it was triggered. Much like how canonically, the player character in Skyrim could invade a Dragurs hollow, and stumble across a rune that had been there for a thousand years, Varrus¡¯ runes likewise could last pretty much forever.
After he had completely coated nearly every square inch of loose sand with the circular symbols of death, the Trolls began to chant at their minor victory.
¡°Zul!¡±
¡°Zul!¡±
¡°Zul!¡±
Several of the green-blue creatures emerged from the ocean carrying their war drums, and were performing some ceremonial prayer.
The Troll warriors cried their triumph over the golems, and turned their eyes toward the exposed flank of the Elf line.
They bared their stone spears, axes, and clubs with an untold malice. Their ferocity and desire for revenge was so palpable, Varrus swore he could feel their aura, despite none of them being inherently magical beings.
Their howls of madness and battle rage pierced Varrus¡¯ ears like an annoyingly loud sports stadium full of rabid fans.
The sun shined brightly upon Varrus¡¯ pale-orange skin, and he felt the heat of its warmth very empower him by 30% thanks to the perk Force of Nature.
Force of Nature - Elemental spells and effects cost 30% less Magicka to cast and increase spell power in favorable weather: fire spells in sunlight, frost spells during snowfall, shock spells in the rain.
Stretching his shoulders like a cat, Varrus smirked at the oncoming horde.
He felt his guards tense up next to him, but they never once lost their composure, pleasing Varrus for their loyalty, and their faith in him.
Helios, the former ranger lieutenant who had been convinced to follow Varrus couldn''t take it any more, and began to unleash bolt after enchanted bolt of arrows into the throats of the rushing Trolls.
Varrus was impressed with Helios. Despite wearing nothing else but standard ranger gear, the depressed lieutenant accounted himself well. Dozens of Trolls met their demise in less than a minute. Considering the man had abandoned his wife and unit to the Undead, perhaps this was his way to seek redemption.
Whatever the case was, Varrus was interested to see how strong Helios would become with properly enchanted gear. He was lacking in talents-especially in rangers/trackers-and Helios demonstrated his status as an Elite almost on the same tier as Rho''dan.
If he lived through this fight, Varrus would have to see about making Helios a permanent part of his roster.
However, for all of Helios¡¯ efforts, impressive as they were, they were barely scratching the rampaging Trolls.
When they finally made it about five steps up the beach and out of the water that was when they finally met true resistance.
The first Troll to step on a trap instantly caught fire, and tried to run back into the cool waters of the ocean, but the press of bodies was so tight, he was pressed forward, and even became trampled under foot.
10 seconds later, and that initial Troll turned into a pile of ash. Not only that, but due to the perks Scorched Earth and Conflaguration, he exploded in a burst of flame. Fire cascaded all around him, igniting any who stood within 5ft of him.
A hundred Trolls experienced this exact same scenario at the exact same time. Their deaths coupled with the closely packed army lead to a chain reaction of 500 Trolls perishing almost at the same time as those Trolls who had run head first into the Runes of Fire.
Countless deaths triggered his Soul Cloak, bringing his inventory near to the weight limit with innumerable Petty and Lesser Soul Gems. Even a few Common Soul Gems were added to the mix.
¡°Unbelievable. I was impressed when you stood up to the wise earlier in the day, yet I thought that like all of House Vandercross, you were full of it. I was prepared to die today, to account for my sins. Yet now I see why your guards are so loyal. Is it true? Can you really return the Sunwell?¡± Helios said with great emotion. He spoke in both disbelief, and yearning.
¡°The Highlord has placed an importance on your ability to naysay, ranger. It is only natural for you to venerate him, but know your place.¡± Rho''dan said sternly, but not unkindly.
Varrus silently agreed, while he certainly enjoyed praise, and was weak to flattery, he needed someone around to keep him on the level. If all he did was surround himself with yes-men, how would he know when he royally fucked up? But that was neither here nor there, Varrus had to prepare for what came next.
¡°Enough, this is but the prelude. Prepare yourselves for what comes next.¡± Varrus waved off their banter as he wasn''t out of the woods yet.
¡°Aye Highlord.¡± Rho''dan nodded in assent.
Helios opened his mouth, then closed it.
¡°Say what''s on your mind, but be swift about it.¡± Varrus said as he scanned the battlefield, awaiting the opportune time to strike.
The flow of the enemy movement caught his eye, and he was alert for any shaministic movement, or champions making an appearance. The last thing he wanted to do was be late to act.
¡°Your rune, while powerful, seems to disappear on contact. What is your plan if a Troll simply threw an axe or spear at one, detonating it prematurely?¡± Helio said between loosing arrows from his bow.
¡°Keen eyes, Helios. It is precisely as you say. The rune is powerful, yet oh so fragile. It is only a matter of time before the Trolls adjust to them.¡± Varrus nodded in appreciation toward the former lieutenant.
¡°If these runes are destroyed on contact, have you thought of placing them upon boulders, then catapulting them into the enemy?¡± Helios queried.
¡°Hoh, most impressive Helios. I hadn''t considered that. Certainly that would be a cheap, and efficient weapon to stockpile in a future war. For now, pay attention to the front, I will act soon.¡± Varrus narrowed his eyes as he saw the Trolls begin to gather courage and test out the runes'' defenses.
¡®Yes, good, good, learn that you can overcome this peril. As soon as your confidence returns, I shall crush it into a thousand pieces, and with it, your will.¡¯ Varrus thought to himself with an evil grin.
These Trolls weren''t unfeeling Undead, or enemies in a game with a health bar. They were creatures of flesh and blood. And on the battlefield, nothing led to death faster than fear.
It was time for phase two of his plan.
Chapter 14
Situated on the high ground, Varrus was little more than 50ft. away from the shoreline.
A distance somewhat far, yet infinitely close when close to 10,000 Trolls were itching to decapitate his head, and fornicate his skull.
Yet the path to the high ground in a mass group battle such as this was not to be underestimated. Some might even call it unnatural, for the curvature of the slope, and the steep embankment was almost at a 45 degree angle.
Furthermore, the approach was covered in rocks, sand, and explosive fire runes.
However, this didn''t stop the Trolls from attempting to throw spears, shoot arrows, and launch lightning at him.
The five original House Vandercross guards-who he provided with the best enchantments focusing on protection and vitality-stood in front of those attacks, and perfectly blocked each and every attempt on his life.
While the Trolls efforts to leave him scarred and deformed failed spectacularly, it was the spear chuckers that were the first to discover the fragility of the runes.
Dozens of spears fell short of the mark, but in the process, they set off a chain of explosions once they made contact with the runes.
Fire rocked the sand, causing the Trolls to jump backward, only to realize they remained unharmed.
Several Trolls laughed in Varrus¡¯ direction, and made lewd gestures with their fists and tongues.
Varrus felt a shiver up his backside, and determined he would settle the score in a few minutes.
As the Trolls began to de-mine the beach and emerge from the water, almost 2,000 had disembarked from their boats.
¡°Whatever your plan, you had best act upon it, Highlord.¡± Helios said nervously as the Trolls slowly began their advance.
¡°Not yet.¡± Varrus calmly intoned.
A moment passed, and 5,000 Trolls had disembarked.
¡°Sir, shall we prepare to charge?¡± Rho''dan queried as if he was asking if Varrus wanted milk from the store or not.
¡°Not yet.¡± Varrus cautioned with his hand.
The Troll force was now so close, they were within spitting distance. A constant flurry of ranged attacks bombarded the Crossguard at this point, and even their mighty enchantments were beginning to bend and buckle under the constant deluge of the Troll assault.
By now, 90% of the Troll fleet that was landing on the left flank had disembarked. Close to 10,000 Trolls pushed and shaved one another, eager for blood.
When they came within 10ft of them, just barely below them on the slope, Varrus smiled.
¡°That¡¯s right, you''ve gathered your courage in the face of death, and discovered my rune¡¯s secrets. Like a primitive man harnessing fire for the first time, you¡¯ll come to think of these runes as dangerous, yet ultimately harmless. You know that fire kills, yet you celebrate thinking you have unlocked its secrets. But you silly Trolls have yet to learn the most sinister truth of fire. Fire consumes!¡±
Raising his hands high, Varrus unleashed the Expert level Destruction spell, Wall of Flames.
The spell did just as the name would imply.
Immediately after Varrus cast the spell, he aimed it at the front row of Trolls, setting them ablaze.
Some tried to jump over the wall of fire, yet Varrus was not limited solely to game mechanics, and with his increased Spell Power, manipulated the wall to a height of 10ft. tall.
The putrid smell of Troll flesh ranked up there with Undead, and unlike the abominations, these green skinned Forest Trolls actually screamed from the pain.
Varrus¡¯ ears twitched as he was uncomfortable at the sound of someone suffering. His own father from Earth was a burn victim, and the pained shrieks of Varrus¡¯ opponents almost made him pity the witless fools.
However, these Trolls were his new peoples mortal enemy. A grudge of thousands of years was being settled right here, right now. No amount of sympathy or compassion would make them see eye to eye.
It was kill or be killed, something Varrus had come to terms with when taking out the Undead. Varrus would be doing a lot more killing before the day was done, now was not the time to be overrun by moral quandaries.
As Varrus directed the Wall of Fire deep into the tightly packed lines, the perks from earlier were constantly being activated, causing Troll corpses to explode and spread even more fire, death, and chaos.
Trolls howled in pain as fire ate away at their flesh and bone.
Varrus watched on in morbid fascination as the shamans cast Chain Healing over and over again in an attempt to stave off the flames. The sight of smoldering Trolls rapidly healing sinew and skin was sickening to behold.
Flesh boiled and burst, only to be reknit anew, then burn once more.
Water elemental magic was cast on the flames, but due to Varrus¡¯ various perks, the flames were ceaseless, and almost impossible to put out.
Unfortunately for the shamans, Varrus was in possession of countless Mana Stones. For the sake of this fight, his energy reserves might as well be infinite.
The shamans were not so lucky. Their mana was limited, and many of them collapsed from mana exhaustion, unable to keep up with Varrus¡¯ torrential firestorm.
Perhaps realizing the futility of their actions, the Trolls began to scatter in all directions in a vain attempt at survival.
Their front line paused in their movement as soon as the healing stopped. Fear and dread took over their faces as they began to run parallel to the flames, utterly bypassing the raging inferno.
In the process of carrying out their hectic escape, the Amani activated even more runes that had been lying idle up to that point. They were so caught up in slaying him they hadn''t bothered diffusing the runes on their flanks, sure that they could make a direct strike at him, and cut off the head of the snake so to speak.
Now they were suffering for their failure to adapt on the battlefield. Explosions rang out as the runes were stepped upon, and ever more flames spread amongst their number.
It was so hot that Varrus could only liken it to the heat produced in an iron factory. Trolls who got too close to the flames sweat buckets, and their moss green skin shimmered in the sunlight like a beach bodybuilder post workout.
The confusion in the Troll battlegroup was palpable as many wanted to retreat into the water, yet the ones behind them were ignorant of the danger, and wanted to press forward.
All moral dilemmas went out the window as Varrus beheld victory in his sight. He felt the kind of relieved excitement a gambler might get upon winning big, or the adrenaline of a professional athlete winning on the world¡¯s stage. This chaos, this pandamonium, ahhh, it filled Varrus¡¯ chest with a sense of primal excitement and glee!
He may have felt pity for the poor sods, but that didn''t mean he was willing to serve his neck up on a platter, and let them skin him alive, then sacrifice him to their dark gods. If he was going to win, he would rather win overwhelmingly.
His Skyrim Ui seemed to agree with this sentiment as his Destruction skill was leveling up at an impossibly high rate. Thousands of Trolls + a constant stream of fire, and Varrus was beginning to Legendary his Destruction skill tree every few minutes. In the process, he accumulated EXP like there was no tomorrow!
The steady sound of a skill increasing was like music to his ears.
Wall of Flames was a decent Skyrim spell to grind Destruction within the first place. Now that he was crispifying thousands of Trolls at once, he was almost at Master tier. Once that happened, oh hoh hoh, those Master spells from the Apocalypse mod were looking mighty dangerous.
Finally, when the Trolls seemed like they were going to escape into the water, or approach the centrally located Elven army in a vain attempt at respite, Varrus unleashed part three to his plan.
Raise Wall had seen great use against the Undead, and it would do so once more!
Casting the spell, Varrus raised a 15ft wall at the edge of the shore, and all around the Troll''s avenue for escape.
When some of the Trolls tried to break it, they found their weapons chipping. Some shamans attempted to blast it apart with lightning balls, yet the walls were barely chipped.
Like all things, this was the real world, not Skyrim, and objects could break. However, when combined with Varrus¡¯ increased Spell Power due to his enchanted equipment, the wall also received an increase in sturdiness, thickness, and height limit.
Only a handful of Trolls were capable of scaling the wall in time, while the rest fried.
In a manner of minutes, nearly 10,000 Trolls were turned to nothing more than ash. Each and every one of them feeding Varrus¡¯ Soul Cloak, and turning into a Soul Gem to be added to his collection.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
The fire''s heat and intensity had turned this section of the beach into glass-like sand.
Surprisingly, there were a few hundred Trolls still alive. Surrounded by water totems, they had managed to stave off the brunt of the Wall of Flames spell, and barely survived.
However, the effective radius of these totems was on average 5ft. with only one or two exceptional shamas being able to cover an area of 10-20 ft.
¡°ENOUGH!¡± A loud, animalistic roar echoed around the beach.
The shout was followed up by a section of the wall breaking apart in a cloud of dust and debris.
Emerging from the dust cloud was a supernaturally magical lynx.
Varrus could only surmise that this was Halazzi, the Troll containing the lynx Loa.
The lynx''s roar carried with it some magical wind energy, which sucked away all the walls of fire toward its mouth.
Halazzi then spat all the flames out as a superheated beam attack like something out of DBZ.
¡°Dodge!¡± Varrus warned his cadre, then cast Blink to evade the attack.
His subordinates were quick on their feet despite wearing heavy armor, and threw themselves to the side just in time.
The crest of the high ground, however, wasn''t so lucky. A cavernous hole tore into the hill, and exploded once it reached a certain depth.
Still unstable after Hexlord Malacrass had initiated his overpowered lightning barrage, the hill began to rumble due to Halazzi''s beam attack.
A mini earthquake set the sand on the hill sliding chaotically downward, and Varrus came with it.
Falling to his ass, and roughly sliding down the steep, 50ft. hill, Varrus was unprepared when Halazzi left stealth next to his side, and swiped at his back.
Upon his Ebony Flesh automatically covering his skin to deflect the attack, the perk, Distorted Shape also kicked into effect. Due to the perk, he became ethereal for 10 seconds whenever a armor spell was activated at the start of combat. It would only dissipate either after 10 seconds, or once Varrus initiated an attack.
As a result, Halazzi¡¯s paw, and entire body went right through Varrus.
As a speed oriented opponent, Varrus wanted to lock down its movements, and so he held out his hand to try and grasp it with Telekinesis. However, it seemed to have a sixth sense, and it dodged out of the way of his spell.
The big cat was about the size of a lion, had glowing green claws, and bright yellow eyes, yet Varrus didn''t pay much attention to this as Halazzi repeatedly ran at Varrus, only to run away once he blasted the ground in front of where it was about to pounce.
Varrus chose Bombardment as his spell of choice, opting to forgo any of the Master tier Destruction spells, because they would take too long to cast. This fast bastard needed to be taken out with speed, and Bombardment was the answer to that.
With one hand, Varrus shot out the machine gun-like attack, rocking the beach, and tossing out AOE exploding fireballs. With the other hand, Varrus began throwing down Fire Runes everywhere he could so that he would limit this speedsters mobility.
Halazzi responded by creating a dozen mirror images of himself. Each one of them was clawed at the air, and created four green crescents of energy to throw at him.
Varrus cursed himself as there were few places to Blink to due to him covering the floor in magical landmines. Deciding to just block the attack, he threw up a ward to absorb whatever was coming his way.
Once the green crescents clashed with his ward, bright green light exploded in front of his face, temporarily blinding him.
Squinting his eyes, Varrus unleashed his bombard at each of the big cats that he could see. One after another, he dissipated them until the last one got within a stones throw, and lunged straight for his throat. Varrus was confident, and blasted the big cat.
Expecting howls of pain, Varrus was surprised to find out that this was an illusion too!
Varrus knew he had fucked up, and was about to Blink as far away as he could from his current position, and completely circumvent this entire section of beach. However, before he could cast the spell, he felt a heavy weight press into his back, pressing him into the glass-like sand, and a pair of massive jaws clamp down onto his neck!
¡®Oh no!¡¯ Varrus could only panic to himself as he was caught in a mages worst nightmare.
Everyone knew the best way to kill a magic user was via stealth, ambush, or at close range!
The beast¡¯s speed was so fast during the fight, that Varrus could barely keep up with its movements. He felt like he could''ve stopped this from happening with any of his many disrupt spells, or by Blinking away in time, but the switch with the mirror images had thrown him off guard. He should¡¯ve used Detect Life! He had grown cocky when he easily took out the mirror images, and destroyed the thousands of Amani earlier. One second, one second of unpredictability was all it took to get caught.
In fact, at this very moment, his Ebony Flesh was on the verge of cracking, and then he would be relying solely on the protection enchantment of his armor, and the vitality he gained upon each level up. So long as he laid on the ground with this beast¡¯s jaws around his neck, constantly crushing and grinding away at said armor, his position was untenable!
What he needed to do was reposition himself so he could start dishing out some damage!
Casting Blink once more without thinking, Varrus was shocked to discover that the bloody lynx still had his neck locked up!
Panic began to grip Varrus¡¯ heart, and his eyes dilated as adrenaline coursed into his system.
He felt the hot breath of the lynx bellowing across his chin and face. It forced him to the ground with its superior strength, pinning him in place. Every second that ticked by, its razor sharp fangs pierced a millimeter of his shields, all the while, the lynx would be scratching at his sides with its claws, further damaging his layer of protection.
This entire time, he had been confident he could effortlessly deal with the Trolls, even making fun of them for their arrogance. But all along, it was he who had been arrogant!
At this close of a range, Varrus was worried any spell he cast would backfire on him. With the change that came with living in the real world, he could very well damage or kill himself with his own spells!
Like a man lobbing a grenade, only for it to land 5ft in front of him, Varrus was worried he would do the magical equivalent of winning the Darwin Award.
Lying on his back, Varrus couldn''t unsheathe his sword-not that it was all that powerful to begin with-and could just barely reach his hand up and place it on the lynx''s chest.
Halazzi growled sensing the imminent threat, releasing its putrid hot breath into Varrus¡¯ nostrils, yet he paid it no heed. This next spell would determine if he could survive or not.
He could only place his hopes on Scorching Hands.
The Expert level spell was designed for such a close encounter after all. It was his only option!
Much like Wall of Flames, the name Scorching Hands explained itself. His hand was coated in fire completely safe from the heat, but the same could not be said for Halazzi.
Shoving upward with all his power, Varrus pushed his super heated hand up and in towards the lynx''s ribcage.
Fortunately, the spell was designed for melee use, and he suffered no repercussions.
However, his opponent wasn''t so fortunate.
Stealthy, speedy, magical and physically strong, this big cat was impressive, but what it lacked was sturdiness.
Varrus¡¯ hand was like magma as he began to push his way towards the lynx''s heart inch by inch.
While this was going on, his perks were activating, and the lynx started to melt from the inside.
Varrus was confident Halazzi would release his grip to use his speed advantage, yet was shocked as the lynx Loa doubled down!
Varrus began to sweat as the shields around him began to slowly crack.
The lynx was losing some of its stamina during this struggle, but it was little comfort knowing he might be dead soon!
Varrus forced himself to push deeper into Halazzi''s rib cage, and stirred his flaming fingers as much as possible to do as much damage as he could, overextending his arm however much it would help.
His actions ultimately proved fruitless as he heard his Ebony Flesh shatter, and the Protection enchantment on his robes was his last line of defense! Even that was beginning to suffer under Halazzi''s assault. Varrus was in a race to see what would give first, the lynx¡¯s heart, or his shields.
It was when hope was beginning to dwindle, that Varrus heard a shout that sent him grinning from ear to ear.
¡°Vandercross!¡± Rho''dan''s unmistakable voice bellowed from above Halazzi.
The veteran House Vandercross guard cut into the top of the lynx''s neck with his flame enchanted sword, leaving a deep furrow across his neck.
Halazzi didn''t seem to like that, yet was unwilling to release his hold on Varrus.
Rising to his feet, the badly burnt big cat held Varrus in his mouth like a mouse or fish with a gift for his family, then turned to face the guard.
Swiping his pale-green claws at Rho''dan, three sharp crescents of wind launched at him, forcing him to block.
Varrus felt that the cat wanted to escape with him in tow, but Varrus wouldn¡¯t allow him to get far, because he kept spamming Scorching Hands like there was no tomorrow.
¡°Hold on, Highlord!¡± Rho¡¯Dan grunted as he parried an attack, then through some impressive footwork stabbed his sword deep into Halazzi''s paw, as well as deep into the ground, pinning the great cat.
Having his limb impaled, Halazii hesitated, then began to buck, seemingly willing to sacrifice the paw or take whatever amount of damage if it meant escape.
However, Rho''dan didn''t seem to care about the sword or the escape attempt as he wielded his shield with both hands.
Blocking a swipe to the face, Rho''dan then pivoted like a football player dodging an oncoming rush, then in the same motion double hand slammed the bottom of the shield into the gap on the top of Halazzi''s neck that the sword had created earlier.
For the first time in the fight, Halazzi released his grip on Varrus, and howled in pain.
Accompanying that howl, countless streaks of magically cutting wind swept across the two Elves, reaching far beyond and dicing dozens of nearby Trolls caught in the crossfire.
The buffering wind was so strong, it popped Varrus¡¯ last smidgen of his barrier.
Now relying solely on his vitality and health pool, Varrus was a nanosecond away from Blinking away so that he could toss up another Ebony Flesh, yet he found he did not need to.
Rho''dan went beast mode, and brought his shield down on that neck once, twice, three times, four times, countless times did Rho''dan bash that cat into the ground well after the head had separated from the body.
Halazzi''s death was confirmed when a Grand Soul Gem formed in Varrus¡¯ inventory. Varrus sighed in relief. That was the closest he had come to death since he first arrived in this world. He thought anything short of a top tier wouldn''t be a threat to him given his most recent enchantments. However, he learned that no matter what, he could never allow an enemy to manhandle him again.
While Varrus was dazed, and lost in thought, Rho''dan approached him.
Rho''dan, painted in the blood of Halazzi, and panting from exertion reached hand down, and helped Varrus up from the ground.
¡°I failed my Lord once, I shall never do so again.¡± Rho''dan nodded respectfully at Varrus, withdrew his sword from the corpse, then turned back toward the battlefield.
Varrus could only softly exhale at his guards'' bravery.
¡°Thank you for placing your trust in me, my friend. I hope to live up to your expectations.¡± Varrus said, choked with emotions.
He hadn''t known Rho''dan long, but this man saved his life. That was a debt that could never be repaid.
While Rho''dan planned on giving Varrus undying loyalty, Varrus was thinking similarly. If someone was willing to go to those kinds of lengths for him, then it was his duty as the leader to take on hardship for Rho''dan, and all those willing to fight for him.
Standing steadily for the first time in five minutes, Varrus wiped some lynx saliva off his face, and took in the battlefield.
¡°The first part is over Rho''dan, it¡¯s time to take care of business.¡±
¡°I shall be by your side Highlord. Always.¡±
Chapter 15
Lor''Themar was tired.
Tired of war.
Tired of politics.
Tired of death.
Tired of being tired.
Lor''Themar was weary of it all.
4,332 years of age, too young to miss the founding of Quel''Thalas, old enough to fight in the first Troll War.
He was hopeful, once. He believed in the system, and the king upon the throne. Time had made him a cynic.
Born poor and to a commoners family in a rural village, Lor''Themar found he didn''t have the patience to study dusty tomes for magic. During those heady days of endless spring, Lor''Themar was pleased to help his family carve shoes for the rich and famous.
He could still remember when he put those carving skills into making his first bow. Lor''Themar was so proud, showing it off to the other children. That bow was his constant companion for a hundred years. It was that bow that saved his life on many an occasion.
Back when he was a young man of 114, he had gone practicing late one day, and had come home to a village on fire, and both the men and women were defiled unto death.
Losing his parents, and the people he had grown close to all his life set something ablaze in his heart.
Lor''Themar hunted down a dozen Trolls that day. By taking advantage of their natural healing ability, he made sure they suffered slow, agonizing deaths.
Having succeeded in revenge, Lor''Themar had found himself in a clearing with his own hunting knife pointed at his neck.
Ready to end it then and there, Lor''Themar¡¯s knife was shot out of his hand by an arrow.
That was the beginning of his infatuation with the heir to the Windrunner clan, Lireesa Windrunner.
She convinced him to live, to join up with her new group of elite rangers. The Farstriders she called them.
Throughout the years, their hard work, and constant skirmishes with the Trolls were rewarded. Lireesa attained a new position according to royal decree: Ranger General.
During those magical times, Lor''Themar eventually became her second in command, both in love and on the battlefield.
Together they would command the respect of every Elf in the nation.
But Lor''Themar did not care for fame or accolades. All these years, he was but that simple shoe carver at heart. He left the politics of Silvermoon to his lover. It was due to those same politics that he refrained from marrying her, to save the Windrunner family face and refrain from weakening their position as councilors on the Convocation of Silvermoon.
Lireesa, oh Lireesa was prepared to throw it all away, the name, the title, her future seat on the Convocation. All so they could be official.
Lor''Themar politely declined of course. He could not in good conscious sully her good name. He saw the fragility of their system, the damage done to the Windrunners might just be the spark that set the nation ablaze. As a consummate patriot, Lor¡¯Themar flatly refused to destroy the country he had put his entire life into serving.
She was wroth, and things eventually became cold between the two of them as Lireesa spent more and more time in politics. Ultimately, she married the King¡¯s advisor, and they rarely spoke thereafter.
Once Lireesa completely divested herself of the Rangers, Lor''Themar silently raised her daughter, Sylvannas to be her mother''s replacement. Every day, he wanted to tell Sylvannas that he loved her like a father. That he was proud of her achievements.
Ina decade of training, Sylvannas accomplished more than most would do in a millennia. She was something special, something Lor¡¯Themar hoped would lead their people to a golden age.
So he trained Sylvannas in the ways of the Ranger General, and eventually served as her second in command. She was headstrong, decisive, and when caught in a good mood, very playful.
Spending time with his all-but in name-daughter tore at him, yet was balm to the hole his partner had tore into him.
The days and years dragged on until one day during the Orc War, a band of Amani ambushed Lireesa and a unit of Rangers, slaying them all.
A piece of Lor''Themar died that day. That little carver boy in the woods thought that he would make things up with the first love of his life. After all, Elves lived forever, right? Well forever came sooner than either of them had expected. That little carver boy was dead, and so too would be those damned Trolls if he had anything to say about it.
He went on a mad quest to avenge her, going on a massacre so fervent, so violent in nature, his fellow Highborn shied away from him, such was his intensity.
Eventually he tracked down and ambushed the mastermind behind his beloved¡¯s death. Zul¡¯Jin was young, cocky, and looked down upon Lor¡¯Themar during their fight. He never could¡¯ve imagined the pain and torture Lor¡¯Themar would put the green bastard through.
Ironically, that very same Troll escaped, and had ambushed Lor''Themar in turn, replying with a torturing of his own. He only narrowly escaped due to the help of his mage friend, Dar¡¯Khan Drathir. For his failed revenge, their entire people must suffer the Trolls invasion.
Compounding this hurt from losing his ex lover, was the death of her daughters, and the betrayal of his best friend, Dar''Khan Drathir. A betrayal that was only possible because he provided Dar''Khan with the codes to disable Silvermoon''s shields. He had thought his friend only wished to study them, to see if he could improve upon their design. How wrong he was.
The Quel''Dorei''s two largest crises in a thousand years could be traced to him. His family was dead, all those he cared for were dead, yet so long as Quel¡¯Thalas endured, he would give every ounce of his flesh to keep it from falling. Here he was, on a sandy beach commanding the Elven force to combat a foe that outnumbered them 6 to 1, and no matter how tired, how world weary he was, he would not be anywhere else on Azeroth than defending the people he so loved.
Lor''Themar did not know what the wise, or Prince Kael¡¯Thas thought when they appointed him as commander, considering his failures, but he would give everything he had if that was required to achieve victory. .
Keeping his face composed so as not to subtract from their already dismally low moral, Lor''Themar stood proud, he stood tall, and he stood aloof like an all seeing god.
He may be tired. He may be ready to retire for good. But this was his element. He had been fighting the Trolls for 4,000 years. He could do it one more time.
Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
If the boy Vandercross could throw himself into the left flank, and his protege-Halduron Brightwing-could hold the right flank, then he, Lor''Themar Theron would not let them down.
He did this for his parents, wife, and all the innocents butchered over the years. Most importantly, he would be doing it for that young, innocent boy who only wanted to carve shoes, and practice his bow in his tiny, peaceful village.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Zul¡¯Jin was angry.
No, angry was an understatement, he was enraged, furious, apocalyptic with intense emotion.
Tens of thousands of Trolls had lost their lives, and they had just barely made landfall.
His chief advisor had told him that the Elves had lost a catastrophic defeat within the last five days, that his visions told him now was the time to strike.
Consumed with the thought of revenge, and emboldened by Malacrass¡¯ binding of the Loa, Zul¡¯Jin embarked on a crusade of righteousness.
To right the greatest wrong, and prove to all Troll kind that the Amani were the best, the strongest, and the greatest of all tribes!
But instead of walking through familiar routes, and emerging through the ancient forests, his wise advisor had them take boats.
He said that the Elves would never see it coming. That they would be unprepared.
He was wrong.
Not only were the Elves set up and waiting for them, but the only place of attack was a natural chokepoint!
Malacrass of course, had a solution for this, but at the cost of sailing in a storm that claimed the lives of dozens, if not hundreds of his kin!
Zul¡¯Jin took great pride in his people, and every needless death felt like a stab to the heart. Their screams to be rescued were drowned out by the sound of thunder, and Malacrass¡¯ cackling laughter.
If he didn''t need the short runt for his prophetic insight, and bindings, he would''ve punted him into the sea long ago.
Zul¡¯Jin had watched as they lost one totem ship after another, witnessed the Elves slaughter his people while all the great shaman did was laugh as he interpreted entrails.
For the last half hour, Zul¡¯Jin had wanted to be the first onto the beach, yet his advisor had repeatedly told him to wait. Cautioning that if the leader died early, the entire army would disappear.
Aware of the truth in those words, Zul¡¯Jin reluctantly remained seated within the lightning totem ship.
It was during his brooding that a soul wrenching pain assaulted him out of nowhere.
¡°Malacrass, you slime! I have waited and waited for the right moment, yet my connection to Halazzi and Nalarakk has been cut! Explain yourself!¡± Zul¡¯Jin roared to mask his pain.
Standing up from the throne, Zul¡¯Jin grasped Malacrass across the neck, and choke slammed him to the ground. One of his feet kicked him in the ribs, forcing Malacrass to tumble across the deck.
Another stomp, and Malacrass¡¯ ribs cracked. Followed up by a brutal knee to the side of the head, and Malacrass was spitting out teeth alongside a broken tusk.
¡®Go on runt, make my day. Fight back.¡¯ Zul¡¯Jin internally snarled, hoping for an excuse to put this goblin sized Troll in his place.
¡°De Elf magics be strong mon. We know day be actin tough for centuries. Otherwise why would we be hidin an slinkin in the shadows all dis time? You know better than me, aye?¡± Malacrass said with a bloodied, mocking smile.
The verbal attack pressed all of Zul¡¯Jin''s buttons. The betrayal of the Orcs still stung two decades later. It was his biggest failure. Before today, the Trolls could field over 500,000 combatants! Yet now, they were a shadow of their former selves. It was only thanks to this piece of filths help that they could return to their former glory.
Whether it was the trapping of grand elementals into these monumental totems, or binding their sacred Loa, forcing them to help their faithful, Malacrass was the center of it all.
Zul¡¯Jin was no idiot, he knew there would be a price to pay to whatever master the traitor served. But for now, they shared a common goal. As soon as they conquered Silvermoon and reclaimed their holy shrine, Zul¡¯Jin would snap this mewling slime''s neck like a twig.
While he was simmering with untapped rage, a scout burst into the room.
¡°Bad news chieftain!¡± The scout said hurriedly, and out of breath.
¡°Nalarakk and Halazzi are dead, and we have lost both fire and wind totems, I know.¡± Zul¡¯Jin tiredly waved the scout off, dismissing him.
¡°But chieftain, there is more!¡± The scout gulped, and lowered his eyes to the deck in fear.
¡°Face your chieftain when you give a report! We are not some Humans or Elves overly dedicated to etiquette! We are de Amani Trolls! Have pride in your name mon!¡± Zul¡¯Jin barked, then raised the scout''s chin to look him in the eye.
Yet the scout seemed to struggle in Zul¡¯Jin¡¯s grasp, fearful of something.
Were the Amani nowadays this weak? Back in his day, the chieftain was respected, but there was no fear. Everyone knew he acted for the best of his people. Did he go wrong somewhere in his leadership?
No, it couldn''t be, he was as Troll as Trolls came! The Trolliest Troll that ever Trolled! It must be the younger generation! After the defeat of their parents, they were raised on fear, on weakness! Well no more! After this victory, he would instill confidence in their hearts, prove to them their strength! His belief in the Amani would be shared across all their people! Starting with this scout!
¡°Speak scout. What do ye have to be sayin den?¡± Zul¡¯Jin spoke, giving the scout his full attention.
¡°The Elves, chieftain! They are small in number, but they exceed us in the number of Heroes! On their left flank, one Elf, the famed Varrus Vandercross-the Hero we have learned about due to his posters and play sheets spread across the land-has defeated Halazzi, and the 10,000 strong force accompanying him singlehandedly! His current movements are unknown, however, it is only a matter of time before he presses into the center!
Their right flank is currently being held by 13 Heroes, 100 arcane golems, and a contingent of dragonhawk knights. Our sole Hero attacking on that side is barely tying down two of theirs. The remaining 10,000 Trolls assigned to that flank have surrounded the enemy, yet cannot push through to gank the Elf center. We are confident that it can be done, but half of our assault force will be lost in the process!
Lastly, the central force of Elves is 10,000 strong, and is easily repelling our main army of 20,000 Trolls. They fight as if they have not lost the Sunwell! They are led by a singular Hero, our hated enemy, Ranger General Lor''Themar. If we don''t do someting and fast, we gonna lose!¡± The scout gave his report in a panicked, and fear stricken tone.
Zul¡¯Jin''s tusks twitched, and he felt a phantom pain from his missing eye and arm. Lor''Themar. Today was a day of vengeance, yet his hated foe was here to hold him back?
To think such a weakling could stop the might of the Amani! It was so laughable, he only just barely held himself back from snapping the scout''s neck.
Were the Amani so useless that he had to do everything himself?!
¡°I understand. Dee Amani need to see the strength of something more than a Hero! Dey need ta see the strength of a Legend! A legend, like me!¡± Zul¡¯Jin snarled, then lifted up a spear, and began to walk towards the edge of the ship with the intent of jumping down.
¡°Chief, don''t go, we have not had de signs yet!¡± Malacrass gripped the hem of Zul¡¯Jin''s robes in an attempt to stop him.
¡°Away from me ye little Goblin! I am chieftain of dee Amani. I go where I want to. Trolls of Zul''Aman, ya want revenge right?¡±
¡°Zul!¡±
¡°Zul!¡±
¡°Zul!¡±
¡°Dat be right! Follow me to reclaim our holy land!¡± Zul¡¯Jin cheered as he jumped off the ship to go to shore.
On his way out, he stepped on Malacrass, and addressed him while he had his back turned to the runt.
¡°Oh, and Malacrass, you best be dealing with dat phoenix and da traitor bitch. If I be comin back from taken da shore, and she isn''t locked up, it will be your head I claim.¡± Zul¡¯Jin calmly stated, then disembarked.
Unseen by him or anyone else, Malacrass was chuckling to himself as he nursed his rapidly healing broken ribs.
¡°Oh no worries mon, you¡¯ll be the Legend you always wanted to be. But I spose no one ever told ya. Heroes become legendary, because they die. Keh heh heh-kuah-heh heh heh!¡± Malacrass coughed blood as he grinned.
Chapter 16
From Lor''Themar''s perspective, an endless wave of green-blue Forest Trolls were dismounting their boats every second.
A constant barrage of arrows were traded between both sides. The defense of holy wards and lightning shields were put to the test to determine the skill of Elven holy magic, and Troll shamanism.
Accompanied by this ranged exchange, mages and shamans dueled, hurling fire and lightning at one another creating magnificent explosions on either side.
The Trolls shields would burst under the superior fire rate, and punching power of Elven spells.
While on the Elven side, they were blessed with the Spellbreakers. His Majesty¡¯s royal guard= initially created to police rogue mages-were put to ample use in this fight.
The Spellbreakers magnetized the enemy lightning into their shields, then responded with one of two reactions. They either smothered the lightning entirely, absorbed it into their gear/weapons to provide a lightning enchantment, or redirected it-towards the sky or the Amani line-whichever action they chose, they denied lightning from getting through.
As a result, not a single Elf had fallen to the Amani¡¯s crude, yet powerful magics. The Trolls, however, were perishing by the dozens every second. Their totems burst as they became overcharged from using all their energy, then the Amani became defenseless as an animal put to slaughter.
Fire rained upon their ranks, and Trolls screamed in agony as their flesh scorched. Lor''Themar knew through interrogation that the Troll healing factor was activated at all times. That when the flesh was burned, it could not regrow, but the healing factor pushed, and pushed upon that skin constantly in an effort to regenerate.
For some Trolls, this merely caused an annoying itch, for others, it was debilitating pain. Numerous Trolls who did not perish from a direct fireball, and who did not receive immediate healing rolled around on the sandy beach in grief and pain.
Lor''Themar grimly watched on as those who survived were ignored, and all to often, stomped on by their peers as they rushed to climb the steep embankment, and meet the Elven line.
While he assessed the battlefield, Lor''Themar would occasionally choose a target-typically a powerful looking shaman or expert healer-and would pluck his bow about once every 10 seconds, eliminating the threat.
As the commander of this force, he could not afford to unleash all his arrows into every enemy that presented itself. Instead, he had to conserve his strength for the inevitable clash between Heroes. As every arrow of his was both enchanted, and coated in his own mana, he had to be conservative with how he spent his energy. Besides, directly killing their foes was only part of his duties.
Prince Kael''Thas had given him command over the beach, and command he shall!
¡°Paladins, bubble! Bubble for the initial charge! You are soldiers of Silvermoon, whatever comes up that beach, you will hold!¡± Lor''Themar ordered as he saw the mass of larger, and stronger Amani were about to collide with the line.
His voice, practiced to mass combat throughout the ages, pierced the din of battle, and within seconds, the paladins began to coat themselves in holy, Light based bubble shields.
Warriors who stood beside them likewise received bubbles from the priests and priestesses standing at the back of the formation.
The front line consisted of a little more than 1,000-2,000 heavily armored warriors and paladins. Their weapons glowed white or red, indicating powerful arcane or fire enchantments upon their gear.
Unlike human armies that preferred to fight in dense formations that could properly utilize their large numbers, Elves preferred to fight about 5 ft apart from the next Elf standing on the line. As the Highborn were an extremely individualistic and long lived society, they had long honed their skills toward agility, and precision combat.
As a result, leaving some space for maneuvering in battle was key toward Highborn combat methodology. Of course, Standing in a compact formation was also a good way to have the entire unit blasted apart by a powerful area of effect spell.
The front line was further bolstered by over 100 arcane golems. Large in size, there was no standard, but most of them stood around 9ft tall. The golems were positioned on the left and right wings of the army, and served as a funnel for the Trolls to direct all their attention on the Elf center.
Resistant to both magic and especially physical attacks, the golems needed no wards for protection, and served as the Elven vanguard. Charging to meet the enemy before the warriors and paladins, they ran down the slope allowing their heavy weight and momentum to turn them into unstoppable killing machines.
The golems heavy bodies were unblockable at the steep angle of the hill. Every footfall of the golems came down at Troll head, or chest level, resulting in a squashed head or ribcage. Hundreds of Trolls were instantly pancaked during the golems charge.
Roaring in defiance, a group of giant Trolls, enlarged by shaministic magics rushed towards the golems, and began grappling with them.
Covered in tribal tattoos, and muscular beyond belief, these giant Trolls were at least 10-12 ft in height, yet wide with an incredible wingspan. Their tattoos glowed with mystical power, increasing their already incredible strength by several magnitudes of order.
Several golems had their arms gripped by massive green hands, and the sound of shrieking metal pierced the air as the golems were torn limb from limb. Some of the golems fought back, and constantly erupted with Arcane Explosions, tearing away flesh, and contesting the Trolls with a mighty strength of their own.
¡°Mages, burn the big ones!¡± Lor¡¯Themar directed, then sniped one of the giant Trolls through its eye, and penetrated its brain.
Fire followed up his attack soon after, and a dozen of the giant Trolls retreated in fear from the flames. However, even more of the Trolls went crazy into the pain, and their tattoos glowed ever brighter as they pressed deep into the golems. A few Elves that were to close got caught up in this wild charge, and were stomped underneath giant green feet the size of wheels one would find on a wagon or cart.
Some of the giant Trolls-much like the golems-seemed to have a suicide feature as well. By lighting up tattoos all over their body, they could erupt for an entire minute before their life force was drained, and they collapsed as shriveled husks. This eruption of power made these giant Trolls just as dangerous as the most veteran Elf, so much so that if all of them went at Lor¡¯Themar at once like this, he wouldn¡¯t say with full confidence that he would come out on top.
The golems were holding, but even with mage support, Lor¡¯Themar didn¡¯t know how long they could last against this onslaught. He wanted to personally advance, but it was too early. He was keeping his eyes and ears attuned to the battlefield, drinking everything in, and keeping himself apprised of any possible traps or enemy plots.
Meanwhile, the rest of the Amani rush towards the Elven line was halted dead in its tracks as they couldn''t pierce through the bubbles set up by the priests and paladins.
For every Elf on the front line, four Trolls attacked them from all angles. However, Lor''Themar noted with some pride that his forces were acquitting themselves well.
Enchanted blades cheered through primitive stone axes, and cut through limbs like butter.
Skilled warriors who had trained for centuries effortlessly parried attacks, then using the smallest of wasted movements would riposte, stabbing their swords into the brains of the enemy.
Of course, like any war, there would be casualties. Some Elves either grew overconfident, or were just unlucky and would take one to many blows to their wards. Once these popped, the Trolls would leverage their superior numbers, and tackle the Elf to the ground. Once mounted, the Amani would then ceaselessly batter the Elf¡¯s armor, or more often than not, slip a dagger in through the helmet''s visor, ending the Elf¡¯s life.
A dozen Highborn perished this way, and there was nothing the priests could do. Of course Lor''Themar and the rangers supported their melee fighters when they would be pushed over, and had saved over a hundred Elves from suffering a similar fate. But every death ate at Lor''Themar. It only made him want to win that much more.
Observing the heated combat, Lor''Themar noticed his front line begin to tire and wane. The loss of the Sunwell was a serious misfortune, and he saw that the front line was in desperate need of a minute to gather themselves, and consume a Mana Stone.
He had fought the Amani countless times, he knew they were cowards at heart. Create enough uncertainty, and they would break like an aged, moldy floorboard. One simply needed to know where to step and apply pressure.
Now was the time. When the enemy was at its most uncertain, and his allies at their most fatigued. Now was the time for him to take command from the front.
Running forward, Lor''Themar channeled his mana into his bow, causing it to glow a hot, arcane white. He then plucked his boosting 10 times. For each physical arrow that left his bow, 10 magically generated arrows spread out into the densely populated Troll formation.
Instantly, 100 Trolls fell to the ground, relieving the beleaguered front line if only a little.
¡°Rest but a moment, soldiers of Quel''Thalas! Absorb those Mana Stones, I shall cover you!¡± Lor''Themar commanded, and without breaking his stride, made it to the front line.
The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.
As soon as he emerged through the line of paladins and warriors, Lor''Themar was met by an axe.
Dropping his bow, and unsheathing his twin blades, Lor''Themar effortlessly side stepped the attack, then decapitated his foe.
A spear from another Amani came a second later, but Lor''Themar was left unimpressed as he cleaned through the spear from its tip to the shaft, cleaving the Troll in two.
Blood sprayed from the Troll like a water gushing from a waterfall, yet Lor''Themar was already out of the splash zone.
His next five steps saw twelve Amani laid out in the ground, gone from this world.
His next ten steps saw a hundred Amani staring blankly at the sky, their heads cut off.
Where once they were eagerly throwing themselves at him, seemingly recognizing him and trying to claim merits, the Trolls now flinched at his every movement, and backed away in fear.
By this point, the war drums had stopped, and there wasn''t a single Troll chanting.
Lor''Themar knew it would take but one more stab at their weak point, and the Trolls would break like a dam filled past capacity.
Twirling his blades to flick the blood off of them, Lor''Themar smirked at the Trolls as they stood away from him in a semi circle.
He had advanced well past his line, and was surrounded, yet the Amani were too afraid to approach him.
Gesturing towards his face in a Trollish insult, implying that the Amani were tuskless.
¡°Watah wa boh boh!¡± One of them roared out in defiance, raising his axe high.
Lor''Themar slew him with ease, and eyed the remaining Trolls.
They took a step back. He took a step forward. They stepped back again. He began to jog forward. The Amani, now in a panic, routed.
Magic and arrows plowed into the retreating Amani backs as they abandoned all defense in a desperate bid to reach their ships. Golems continued to erupt with arcane explosions, tearing away flesh, and running over Trolls stomping them to death.
It was an absolute blood bath.
The force of 20,000 Trolls attacking their center had been more than cut in half. In contrast, 46 Elves had lost their lives in that brief encounter.
¡°Dee Amani neva surrender!¡± A deep voice boomed from the back of the Troll retreat.
Fleeing Amani immediately stopped in their tracks, and spread apart, allowing a familiar face to approach.
¡°Zul¡¯Jin.¡± Lor''Themar hissed.
He should''ve never let this cancer escape that day.
As the Amani chief drew closer, the Elves and Trolls briefly ceased their warring and watched on. They all knew what was coming.
It was a tradition as old as Azeroth, it was a duel.
¡°I been waiting a looong time for dis.¡± Zul¡¯Jin grinned, flexing his one good arm.
In the Troll''s hand was a wickedly glowing axe. Its purple enchantment gave Lor''Themar a sick feeling. He must avoid it. Even a grazing blow would be deadly.
Standing nearly 20ft apart from one another, Lor''Themar eyed his aged opponent, thinking about how he would use Zul¡¯Jin''s lack of a right arm as his advantage.
¡°Jin! Jin! Jin!¡± The Trolls howled in support of their champion.
In response, the Highborn stared silently at them. Their eerie cold magically colored blue eyes and silence unnerved a few Trolls, causing them to falter in their support.
¡°I show you the true strength of da Amani!¡± Zul¡¯Jin turned toward his army in anger, lifting his arm in a showboating manner.
As soon as Zul¡¯Jin turned his back to him, Lor''Themar saw the opportunity for what it was.
Brandishing his twin swords, Lor''Themar wordlessly charged.
Using the noise of the crowd to mask his approach, Lor''Themar reached Zul¡¯Jin¡¯s back within seconds.
Swiping at the nape of Zul¡¯Jin''s neck, Lor''Themar only just got his second sword up in time to parry a pair of eagle wings.
Bird wings had magically spread from Zul¡¯Jin''s back, each feather sharp as a blade, Lor''Themar was taken by surprise, and was forced to jump back as the feathers shot out from the pair of wings like arrows.
Caught in the unexpected attack, Lor''Themar¡¯s thigh was pierced by a feather.
The Troll crowd roared in delight, much to the Elf contingents cold displeasure.
A stinging pain flashed through him as he felt crimson ooze down his pant leg, yet he paid it no mind as an axe came baring down upon his head.
Pushing himself off the ground with his wings and boosted by a magically induced draft of wind, Zul¡¯Jin¡¯s speed in no way was inferior to Lor''Themar¡¯s.
The Amani chieftain closed the distance near instantaneously giving Lor''Themar zero breathing room.
Zul¡¯Jin was relentless with his axe. Blow after blow came toward Lor''Themar, forcing him to constantly dodge.
Ordinarily he would''ve parried by now, and gone for the decapitation, however wind swirled around the axe, speeding it up to be just slightly slower than Lor''Themar could swing his own blades.
At this point, a direct confrontation was looking suboptimal. He would have to use his opponent¡¯s weakness to win this fight.
Rolling under the next axe swing, Lor''Themar grunted in pain as the pain on his wound flared up, yet he could only soldier through it.
While he rolled towards Zul¡¯Jin''s missing arm, he scooped up some of the beach sand, and flung it into Zul¡¯Jin¡¯s eye.
The one second it took for Zul¡¯Jin to blink his eye clear was enough for Lor''Themar to close the distance.
Appearing at Zul¡¯Jin''s side, Lor''Themar leaned forward, evading a blindly retaliating axe, he then stabbed one blade downward, cutting off a leg. His other sword, reaching toward the head however, it was unexpectedly intercepted.
When his sword was about to pierce Zul¡¯Jin''s brain, a giant eagle''s claw pushed itself out of the nub on Zul¡¯Jin''s right shoulder, and reached out toward Lor''Themar.
Having witnessed the Troll¡¯s body morphing technique once, Lor''Themar was somewhat prepared this time, and dropped to his knees to avoid the lethal attack.
However, dodging like this meant he did not land the match winning strike like he had hoped for.
¡°Clever mon, very clever, bet you never expected dis though?¡± Zul¡¯Jin, also fallen to the floor, opened his mouth wide, and breathed out a torrent of green flames.
A small pale blue transparent shield sprang up around Lor''Themar at that moment, blocking the magical fire.
When Zul¡¯Jin finished his breath attack, an enchanted necklace worn around Lor''Themar¡¯s neck began to dim, and lose its luster.
¡°You Elves are full of surprises!¡± Zul¡¯Jin remarked, standing up as his leg began to rapidly reform and heal.
¡°Sacrificing life span for improved healing. Troll ingenuity at its finest.¡± Lor''Themar bantered back.
Head turned toward the sand, Lor''Themar used his long hair to hide his grimace of pain. The eagle''s claw had punctured his left shoulder, even lifting his arm felt like a struggle. Furthermore, he could feel the flesh in his leg begin to rot with necrosis. Whatever was in that feather, it was not doing him any favors.
Using this brief moment of respite, Lor''Themar stealthily reached into his belt for a potion.
¡°Aye, healing potions, enchanted armor, attacking from behind? You Elves are dishonorable mon.¡± Zul¡¯Jin said menacingly.
Lor''Themar grinned mirthlessly at the Troll.
¡°I know you have something planned, but don¡¯t think you can stall me enough to take that potion! For Zul¡¯Aman, and countless innocent Troll deaths, die!¡± Zul¡¯Jin shouted as he swiped down hard with his axe.
¡°Got you.¡± Lor''Themar smiled as the axe came down precisely onto the potion bottle in Lor''Themar¡¯s hands.
¡°Hrm?!¡± Zul¡¯Jin mumbled in shock as the potion exploded.
Hot white flame consumed the two. It was so powerful, not even Lor''Themar¡¯s enchanted amulet could withstand its effect.
¡°Youuuuu foooool!¡± Zul¡¯Jin madly roared in pain as he gripped Lor''Themar in a choke hold.
Lor''Themar let the immense pain wash over him as he thought of his lover, of his parents, of his lost daughter.
With this, he could finally rest now.
¡°Haha hah hahahaha, you really are a fool mon!¡± Zul¡¯Jin madly laughed as green flames began to coalesce around his body, and eat at the flame.
In no time at all, Zul¡¯Jin revealed his body to the world. He appeared to be nothing more than a monster of blackened sinew and bone.
As he was about to pass, Lor''Themar sighed in relief, no Troll could heal from burns like that. However, a second later, his hopes were dashed.
Green flame once more coated Zul¡¯Jin¡¯s body, and reformed his skin, returning him to peak physicality.
Lor''Themar fell to his knees, consumed in pain and regret, welcoming death''s embrace.
¡®I¡¯m sorry King Anasterian, I have failed you.¡¯ Lor''Themar gasped his last breath.
¡°Didn''t cha hear me? We are dee Amani! We are invincible!¡± Zul¡¯Jin held his arms aloft, and received a roaring approval from the surrounding Amani.
At least, Lor''Themar anticipated death then and there, yet he was still alive?
When Lor''Themar closed his eye, expecting to die within a second, an intense glow of light embraced him, returning strength to his muscles, and dispelling the flame.
Light pierced both his eyes as he was completely regenerated.
¡°It would be a little embarrassing for our people to go through three Ranger Generals in 20 years, no?¡± A cheeky, familiar voice entered Lor''Themar¡¯s ears.
¡°Vandercross!¡± Zul¡¯Jin¡¯s triumph was doused as anger replaced victory.
Lor''Themar even thought he heard some fear in the Amani¡¯s voice? How curious.
Feeling himself dragged to his feet, Lor''Themar felt a chill between his legs. Realizing his clothes had been burnt off, he never knew living through a sacrificial attack meant to safeguard the kingdom could be so embarrassing.
¡°Pick up those swords General, we have a war to win.¡± Vandercross spoke to him with his back turned to Lor''Themar.
Lor''Themar rubbed his eyes. For a second there, it felt like he was standing behind Highlord Vandercross when they first made landfall on the continent of Lordaeron.
¡°Of course¡Highlord.¡± Lor''Themar picked up his undamaged enchanted blades, and formed up beside him.
Lor''Themar almost died, but he''d do it again if it meant he could secure young Vandercross¡¯ safety. Between him and the Prince, the Highborn''s future didn''t look so bleak.
¡°By the way, you had better put some pants on, otherwise all the men will become jealous.¡± Vandercross spoke without turning his back.
Lor''Themar shook his head.
The future was bleak indeed.
Chapter 17
(Right before Varrus showed up to heal Lor''Themar)
Varrus felt good, real good.
No, good didn''t even begin to define how incredibly amazing life was at that moment.
He had literally just had the jaws of death pressed against his neck from a lion sized, magical lynx-inches away from having his skull crushed like a watermelon on YouTube-and there was nothing more intense than barely surviving a close call!
Call him crazy, but there was just some great relief and celebratory urge from surviving near certain death. If Syra were here, he would plant his beautiful wife full on the mouth with a big wet kiss, and lift her into the sky with a shout, that was how jubilant he was.
He knew he still wasn''t out of the woods yet, but some of his confidence was beginning to return to him knowing he had guards like Rho¡¯dan surrounding him.
The other four Crossguard and Helios had held off the 800 remaining beleaguered Trolls, and even slew most of them while Varrus was in the throes of mortal combat. Which is why it took Rho¡¯dan so long to finally get that big cat off of him.
Looking at his gore covered men, not a single one of them suffered a scratch due to their superb training, and enchanted gear.
The way Rho¡¯dan recounted it, as soon as he was gripped by Halazzi, the Troll army counterattacked.
Lightning and axes came down on his men, yet they were unmovable like a mountain.
Varrus felt vindicated in his choice of enchantments for them. Dumping mostly everything into Stamina, and Protection with a little bit of Strength paired with their centuries of training and combat experience turned these already lethal Elites into a unit to be feared.
When he claimed to Pathaleon the Calculator that his five Elites were equivalent to a Hero, he had no real basis to back this up, since he had yet to see how they would perform in enchanted gear. Seeing the receipts-that being 800~ broken Troll bodies lying along the scorched beach-Varrus was convinced.
The best part was, most of these guards were equipped with gear enchanted by Common Soul Gems. If he could find a way to equip them with maxed out, smithed armour/weapons, and all Grand Soul Gems, he would bet they would each individually be just as impactful to the battlefield as Rhommath in terms of threat level.
Of course, that dream was a long way off as gathering Grand Soul Gems was extremely tedious. Only the most powerful of beings possessed such strong souls to steal.
However, his gains this time around were significant. He was too far away from the boats he destroyed for Soul Cloak to collect the fallen Trolls energy and create Soul Gems. But, the 10,000 Trolls slain on the beach were well within his range.
During this mass battle, Varrus received 3,167 Petty Soul Gems, 5,677 Lesser Soul Gems, 1,200 Common Soul Gems, 5 Greater Soul Gems, and 1 Grand Soul Gem.
Looking up from his inventory, Varrus noticed the haggard look on the former Ranger Lieutenant, Helios''s face. Helios looked like shit, and was wheezing like an out of shape man who had just run a marathon-which made sense, since they had just fought for their lives but a moment ago-and for his contributions, Varrus decided to reward him with better gear once they had returned to Silvermoon.
He felt pity for the suicidal Elf, and valued his skills. If he could nurture him into achieving success, Varrus was hopeful Helios¡¯ story would spread, and other troubled Elves would see that there was a way out.
Mana addiction, and the loss of loved ones were no joke, and Varrus could empathize with them as he genuinely missed his family from Earth. Only Syra''s tender loving care was keeping him sane at this point. If not for her, he wouldn''t even be in the mood to laugh at the face of death. He''d probably be moping, or be grim faced the entire time!
Helios cocked his head to the side, seemingly curious why Varrus was staring at him so intensely and for so long, he then coughed and pointed somewhere to get Varrus¡¯ attention.
¡°Huh-huah, Vandercross, shouldn''t you be reinforcing, hah, the center? Something, heh, doesn''t seem right.¡± Helios spoke up between ragged gasps for air.
Varrus looked over to where Helios was pointing, and was shocked to discover that the fighting had ceased.
In fact, both sides formed a circle, and two familiar combatants were duking it out.
Playing witness to Zul¡¯Jin magically healing himself with green flames, Varrus remembered that the Troll had all the powers of the Loa. Not only that, but this binding tethering him to the Loa was more serious than simply sharing abilities.
Like a Lich attuned to his phylactery, so long as the Trolls bound to the Loa lived, Zul¡¯Jin could not die!
Varrus recognized that Lor''Themar was on the losing side, and that with no one there to contain him, Zul¡¯Jin would rampage through the Elf line like an unstoppable juggernaut!
¡°With me!¡± Varrus called to his unit, then hastened his steps towards the fight.
By the time he pulled up to the dueling circle, he arrived to witness Lor''Themar''s self immolation.
¡°Crazy.¡± Varrus muttered to himself in disbelief.
¡°Quel''Thalas has lost a great one this day. May he find the peace in death that he deserves.¡± Rho''dan seriously intoned.
¡°I was proud to serve under Commander Lor''Themar in the Farstriders. I always knew he would make a great Ranger General. I can''t believe he¡¯s lost the title so soon after gaining it.¡± Helios muttered, biting back tears from Varrus¡¯ side.
Varrus had heard stories of guys jumping on top of grenades to save their buddies, but seeing something like that in person was wholly different.
Varrus didn''t exactly have the best opinion of Lor''Themar. As regent, Lor''Themar failed to reconcile with Kael¡¯Thas and the Blood Elves who remained in Outland. He was coerced by Sylvannas, and was wishy washy with diplomacy. Reliant entirely on Orgrimmar to make any meaningful decisions, Lor''Themar was an ineffective leader.
Under his supervision, the Blood Elves were massacred on Dalaran, and the entire race caught flack from the Alliance for developing the mana bomb that destroyed Theramor.
For years, their land remained plague infested, and the alliance with the Horde only invited war and death.
In some regards, Varrus felt pity for the guy. He was clearly a skilled ranger, yet always played the role of second in command. As soon as he was promoted to Ranger General, Kael¡¯Thas left Silvermoon and went gallivanting with Garrithos, promoting Lor''Themar a second time within weeks of becoming leader of the rangers.
Some people did best as the leader that oversaw all, others could be great Captains and Commanders, but would not make for good Presidents or politicians. Lor¡¯Themar struck Varrus as the latter. A great soldier in the field, yet not cut out for dealing with the political nature of leading a nation. Besides, Lor''Themar did not ask to lead Quel¡¯Thalas, nor did he train for it. It was thrust upon him, and he was found wanting.
Yet Varrus could appreciate the elder Elf for his skills and expertise as a ranger, a military man, and for his knowledge of the land. When a man like Rho¡¯dan expressed his sympathies, Varrus knew Lor''Themar was a real one.
Looking on as Lor¡¯Themar quietly stood tall, hugging Zul¡¯Jin close to his chest to ensure his enemy met his doom beside him, Varrus looked on with respect. Quel¡¯Thalas would lose a true Hero, one who actually cared enough to give his life for his country. That was a rare trait to possess, and that''s why he couldn''t let the old man die like that.
Varrus hated to heal someone who underwent the extreme pain of total immolation, but he couldn''t allow Lor''Themar to die just yet.
Quel''Thalas needed every Hero it could spare. Varrus wouldn''t let his people suffer such a major loss simply because he thought less of the man''s leadership.
The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.
Holding up glowing golden hands, Varrus cast the Master Restoration spell Infinite Light.
Infinite Light: Stream of healing energy that diffracts between targets, healing 150 points per second.
Like its namesake, a beam of highly concentrated light gushed forth from Varrus¡¯ hands like a spring.
The soothing energies touched upon Lor''Themar¡¯s smoldering form, reshaping his bones and sinew.
While Lor''Themar was on the verge of death, the Edgewalker perk in the Restoration skill tree kicked in, boosting his already rapid recovery.
Edgewalker - Restoration spells are up to 30% more powerful if the recipient is below half Health. The bonus increases as Health decreases.
Varrus marveled at Lor''Themar''s self control as he emerged from the flames calm and composed. It was as if he hadn''t just endured the most excruciating pain of his life.
If Varrus ever came back from the brink like that, he''d be cursing up a storm and hopping mad. To be honest with himself, that level of pain would leave him wishing for death.
Feeling all eyes upon him, Varrus wanted to break the tension, and said something humorous to see if the old Elf was alright.
¡°By the way, you had better put some pants on, otherwise all the men will become jealous.¡± Vandercross spoke while turning his back on Lor''Themar to escape looking at the old timer''s junk.
¡°Punk kid of Vandercross, you should¡¯ve finished off the Amani.¡± Lor¡¯Themar slowly intoned with a hint of anger in his voice as he went to retrieve his twin swords.
An axe came down toward Varrus¡¯ face while he had been busy focusing on Lor¡¯Themar, to see if he was wholly healed.
Caught unaware, Varrus blinked his eyes, and saw Lor¡¯Temmar interpose himself in between his assailant.
Pressing down with twin arms of bulging muscle, Zul¡¯Jin snarled down at Varrus with nothing but hatred.
The two combatants tusseled with one another, and traded a series of quick swipes, punches, and kicks.
Unfortunately for Varrus, Zul¡¯Jin had similarly had a recent dance among the fire and the flames, and was likewise wearing nothing more than his birthday suit.
Varrus recoiled, not in shock from the axe that had been headed towards his neck, but from the unpleasant image of Lor¡¯Themar and Zul¡¯Jin¡¯s continued duel.
Truly, he would be pleased if he never had to witness a streaking Forest Troll fighting a 4,000+ year old naked supermodel Elf for the rest of his life.
¡°Vandercross! Dat look of disgust on your face is what I''ve come to expect from your kind! Look, my Amani, look at the disdain for our people! The dishonorable Elves have broken the sacred duel, in the name of our forefathers, slay these hateful creatures!¡± Zul¡¯Jin roused his army, then pounced at Varrus.
Prepared this time for the sudden attack, Varrus knew he couldn''t kill Zul¡¯Jin, so he responded with his favorite go to spell: telekinesis.
Fortunately, Zul¡¯Jin wasn¡¯t nearly as fast as the lynx Loa, and was caught in Varrus¡¯ telekinetic grasp.
Varrus cast the spell on Zul¡¯Jin, and lifted him into the air. He then roughly slammed him down into the sand. He never once let up on his grasp, and held Zul¡¯Jin in place.
¡°Ranger General Theran, finish the Amani, I¡¯ll hold this one off for now.¡± Varrus said between repeated telekinetic attacks.
¡°As much as it pains me, I¡¯ll choose to believe in the younger generation.¡± Lor¡¯Themar said, looking down at Zul¡¯Jin with a complex array of emotions across his face. ¡°For now. Good luck Vandercross, and thank you.¡± Lor''Themar resolutely nodded, gripped his swords, then turned to join the battle.
¡°Oh and Ranger General, once the Prince is free, signal for his attention. Permanently killing Zul¡¯Jin is more complicated than we first thought.¡± Varrus informed Lor''Themar.
¡°Understood.¡± Lor''Themar nodded once more, then turned towards Helios. ¡°Lieutenant, I see you have found new company.¡±
¡°Sir! It¡¯s not what it looks like, I''m still a Farstrider through and through!¡± Helios hurriedly replied.
¡°I received a report about your unit. Tragic way for you to lose them like that. You have my condolences for your wife. You¡¯re a valued officer Helios, one I know I can count on. But someone else needs your expertise now.¡±
¡°But sir, I can still serve the Rangers! I-¡±
¡°Dismissed Lieutenant! Now chin up, we have a war to win.¡± Lor''Themar said no more, and left to resume the slaughter of the Trolls.
The remaining 5,000 Trolls clashed all around Varrus, donating Soul Gems at a rapid pace, yet Varrus paid them no mind. His attention was focused on containing Zul¡¯Jin. His safety assured by the Crossguard, Varrus was placing all his awareness upon this dangerous Troll.
He had a track record as an escape artist, and Varrus had to prepare himself for something sneaky. If Lor''Themar could get taken out, anything could happen.
Raising his hand to repeat the continued telekinetic slamma wamma, Varrus had to quickly change gears, and was forced to raise his left hand, and form a ward due to Zul¡¯Jin¡¯s retaliation.
Green flames shot from the Amani chieftain''s mouth at Varrus, pressing against Varrus¡¯ magical shield, and pushing him backwards.
Skidding along the sand, Varrus tried to catch Zul¡¯Jin in his telekinetic grasp once more, however the Amani chieftain dodge rolled to the side.
At the same time, Zul¡¯Jin barfed out more green flames, and the wings on his back propelled him at an increased speed.
Moving like a jet airplane, Zul¡¯Jin was right on top of Varrus.
However, standing in front of him was Rho''dan and his Crossguard.
Barring their shields, and pointing enchanted swords outward, they served as Varrus¡¯ bulwark.
Zul¡¯Jin clearly didn''t take them seriously as he rammed shoulder first into them, expecting to bowl them over like a line of bowling pins no doubt.
However, the look of shock on the Troll''s face was quick to change into pained surprise.
Five glowing hot swords cleaved into his arms, legs, chest, chin and head.
Zul¡¯Jin reformed his limbs among the green flames, and exploded those same flames from his body in a fiery ring.
¡°When will ya stupid Elves learn? Dee Amani be invincible!¡± The Amani chieftain grinned from ear to ear as he emerged from his rejuvenating green fire, only to be struck with confusion, then extreme pain once more.
The fire indeed spread over the Crossguard, however, their enchantments were too powerful, and withstood the blast.
Without any hesitation or fear from the flames, the Elite, veteran Vandercross House Guard mercilessly stabbed, hacked, and stomped on Zul¡¯Jin.
The ¡®invincible¡¯ Zul¡¯Jin was experiencing the horrors of said invincibility every second.
Rho¡¯dan got creative, and began to wrestle with Zul¡¯Jin, and twisted his arms like a pretzel.
Another guard amused himself by repeatedly cutting off Zul¡¯Jin''s legs, and began to make a stack of them.
Each of Varrus¡¯ closest companions-the only ones he trusted his and his wife''s lives and secrets with-were absolute sadists.
Good God, no wonder his father had such a negative reputation when he had these brutes following him around!
Varrus quickly found he was no longer needed to manage this poor SOB, and turned his attention out towards the battle raging across the ocean, to see what Kael was up to.
He could only hope killing some Trolls would help him get over this emo phase, because Varrus was not looking forward to the conversation that would keep the moody Prince here in Quel''Thalas, and not go on a crusade in Outland. To keep him from going to the dark side. And by dark side, Varrus meant a certain bat-winged, shirtless, tattooed, muscular, charismatic, goth, 10,000 year old Night Elf promising to fix all Kael''s problems with highly addictive Fel magic.
Maybe Varrus was reading too much into things, but in canon, Kael called that guy his master after seeing him once. Then he basically worshipped Illidan¡¯s feet, and boasted about him to Arthas like some cartoon villain. His friend was seriously lacking in dignity, and Varrus would not tolerate some uppity Tyrande simp corrupt his best friend. The less they interacted, the better for everyone on Azeroth.
Frankly speaking, Kael needed to man up, and stop running away from his problems. And Varrus would be there as the friend he needed to encourage him to get shit done. Varrus was hopeful that between Kael leading the Monarchy, and him leading the Convocation, they could revitalize their civilization, and secure their land from the threats of the Burning Legion and the Old Gods.
It would be challenging, but Varrus believed that with his loving wife by his side, he could manage to solve anything and everything that came at them.
With Zul¡¯Jin''s pained screams begging for mercy in the background, Varrus clenched his fist, closed his eyes, and imagined his wife''s radiant smile.
Oh yeah, it was all worth it.
However, his thoughts for the future, and love for his wife were interrupted by the ongoing torture painting the sands red.
¡°I give, I give! No more, no more!¡± Zul¡¯Jin cried.
¡°This is the part where you fall down, and bleed to death! Huarrrghhh!¡± Rho¡¯dan replied while cutting into the poor SOB.
¡°Why. Won¡¯t. You. DIE!¡± Another guard screamed as he stomped Zul¡¯Jin¡¯s skull again and again.
¡°I''ve fought mudcrabs fiercer than you!¡± Another taunted while he left the flaming sword deep inside Zul¡¯Jin''s guts.
¡°I¡¯m just getting warmed up, you pathetic little worm!¡± A fourth guard shouted as he rained down fist after fist into the pile of mush that was Zul¡¯Jin.
The fifth and final guard stood as overwatch with his arms crossed.
All the while, Helios was staring at them with a glazed look in his eyes.
Varrus felt some sweat fall down the side of his temple at the sight. Jesus fucking Christ, his guards were fucking psychopaths!
Well¡it was all still worth it¡
Chapter 18
AN: Kael¡¯Thas gets a new nickname this chapter :)
A thousand lightning bolts rained from the sky, forcing Kael to erratically dodge each and every attack.
The lightning elemental from the last remaining totem ship seemed to possess limitless energy as it continued to light up the sky.
Thunder boomed in his ears as a bolt grazed the tip of Al''ar''s wingtip.
¡°Al''ar!¡± Kael cried out, worried for his friend.
Their flight path took on a brief plummet before the rejuvenating flames of the phoenix swept over the wing, and healed the wing in a few seconds.
¡°Kieer!¡± Al''ar screeched back, indicating he was fine, turning the death defying plummet into a dive.
Al¡¯ar belched bolts of fire back at the lightning elemental, blasting chunks of electricity off its body, slightly diminishing it in size.
At the same time, the scorched feathers on the phoenix''s wingtip molted, and were replaced, good as new.
Al''ar squawked back at Kael, then did a barrel roll to evade another bout of lightning.
¡°I know, I know you''ll be fine even if you die, but that doesn''t mean I can''t show my concern!¡± Kael muttered in reply, ruffling Al¡¯ar on the nape of his neck. .
¡°So this is the legendary moodiness of Prince Kael¡¯Thas! The documentaries were true!¡± Jan''alai crowed as she did a flyby.
Transformed into her dragonhawk Loa form, Jan''alai shed brightly lit feathers, launching them as an attack. Each feather was launched at the speed of a bullet toward the lightning elemental. When they collided with the elemental, the feathers exploded like a carpet bomb.
Bright green fire spread across the giant elemental, causing it to recoil as some of its form shrank after the attack.
Secondary after effect explosions took place as every follicle on the feather spread out like the flechettes spread by a grenades explosion.
¡°Blasted woman.¡± Kael muttered to himself.
¡°Kieer!¡± Al''ar chirped mockingly.
¡°Nonsense! I am Prince Kael¡¯Thas of Silvermoon, genius mage not seen in 5,000 years, co-leader of the Kirin Tor! I do not get jealous. Preposterous! I shall show her the magic of the High Elves!¡± Kael said, flicking his hair at the absurdity of his friend''s accusation.
¡°Kieer!¡± A mocking squawk replied.
¡°Ana sae du¡¯loran vaneer!
Ana sae du¡¯loran VAS!¡±
A moment later, Kael finished chanting a spell, and a vortex of lightning sprang from his hands.
¡°Kuahh?¡± Al''ar chirped, as if questioning Kael''s intelligence.
¡°Hmph.¡± Kael moodily crossed his arms, unwilling to explain.
The lightning elemental, seeing this vortex of lightning, eagerly flew through the sky towards it, with the intent of absorbing its energy.
¡°Fool Prince, what have you done!?¡± Jan''alai cried in shock.
Kael''s eyebrow twitched at the accusation. The last person to talk back to him like this without any respect reminded him of her.
¡°Jaina.¡± Kael softly muttered in melancholy.
¡°Get your head out of the clouds, Goldilocks, my name isn¡¯t Jaina, it¡¯s Jan¡¯alai! Due to your recklessness, the elemental is about to grow stronger, we have to stop it!¡± Jan''alai said in a panicked voice.
¡°Wait!¡± Kael lifted his head from his depression, and raised a hand in warning.
However, it was too late, and Jan''alai had covered her body in green flames, intending to dive beak first into the lightning storm.
¡°Damnit.¡± Kael said as he pulled his hand back.
¡°Come on Al''ar, we ride!¡± Kael said with determination, then spurred Al''ar onward.
¡°Kieer! Kieer!¡± Al''ar complained.
¡°I know she only meant well! This was not part of the plan! I studied the blasted elementals polarity, and sought to undo it with a positive charge!¡± Kael bitterly complained as he was forced to explain his plan.
¡°Kieer!¡±
¡°What?! No, I am not acting petty! Just. Just fly damn you, we have an ally to rescue!¡± Kael frowned towards his phoenix companion, then placed all his attention on Jan''alai.
¡°I know you want to be free! Fight Malacrass¡¯ binding, fight it!¡± Jan''alai urged toward the elemental as she flew ever closer to intercept the lightning vortex from merging with the elemental.
¡°It is. Too. Late. For me. Little one.¡± The elemental struggled to say, pausing in mid air for a second, before it rushed to meet the vortex.
¡°Then I do what must be done.¡± Jan''alai said melancholically as she gave it her all to intercept the oncoming lightning.
When Jan''alai blocked the vortex with her body, the elemental collided with her nearly at the same time.
Vast amounts of energy coursed through her very being. It was so bright, Kael could see her skeleton through the shocking power of nature.
Thunder boomed once more, yet Jan''alai''s screams of pain were so incredible, they out did the bass.
Clouds converged from the meeting of plasma and green hot fire changed the local atmosphere.
Large rain drops fell upon Kael, dripping down his forehead, and soaking his robes.
He could''ve easily cast a cleansing charm, or a spell to protect him from the elements. But he was too caught up in watching Jan''alai''s charred form plummet towards the ocean.
She had lost her transformation, and her humanoid form was tumbling, tumbling, tumbling. It would be mere seconds before she fell to her demise. Green flames coated her body all the way down, making her stand out in the rainstorm.
Her image seemed to superimpose with the woman of his dreams, and he froze, shocked at the sight.
Suddenly, he felt the air woosh around him, and Al''ar streaked across the sky like a fallen meteor. Fire trailed at the end of his tail feathers, leaving a cloud of smoke in his wake.
Kael blinked himself out of his stupor as they dove down at a speed he had never moved before.
Right before they were going to splatter into the ocean, Al''ar pulled up at the last moment.
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
Kael''s faithful phoenix companion swooped up at just the right angle for Kael to catch Jan''alai in his arms.
The Forest Troll weakly opened her eyes, and beamed a smile at Kael.
¡°Gotchu.¡± She said, punching Kael in the arm.
Caught off-guard by the sudden impact, Kael accidentally dropped the muscular Troll lady onto Al''ar.
Kael blinked in astonishment as Jan''alai shook off a layer of ash, revealing jade-like green skin, and abs full of muscle.
Her toothy smile confused Kael.
What was with the pained screaming, and seeming instant recovery?
Was he being pranked?
His face of constant stoicism, and perfectly calculated charm cracked.
A small smile of incredulity and disbelief formed, and was gone just as fast as it appeared.
Attuned to the emotions of his rider, Al''ar screeched merrily, eliciting a scowl from Kael.
¡°Sorry for that. I could''ve recovered at any time, but I wanted to see if the rumors were true.¡± Jan''alai scratched the back of her head.
The look of genuine apology on her face made Kael huff, and roll his eyes. He was still mad at her for getting in the way of his attack though! It would''ve looked super cool, and very impressive!
¡°And what, pray tell, are these rumors?¡± Kael said, moodily crossing his arms.
¡°That there is none more loyal a friend or comrade in all of Quel''Thalas. At least, that''s what I learned from the documentaries Vandercross released. You should know that already though, what with how popular he is in your kingdom?¡± Jan''alai said with confusion as she cocked her head to the side.
For the third time that day, Kael found himself unconsciously smiling at the positive words of encouragement.
He hadn''t seen his childhood friend in more than 50 years. However, over those years, he had never been forgotten. The warmth in his heart was palpable, this time, when Al''ar screeched, Kael did not admonish his friend.
¡°Well. Ahem, well he isn''t wrong, Prince Kael¡¯Thas is always generous to those who are generous to him!¡± Kael hesitantly coughed as he looked to the side.
¡°Awesome! Now uh, we should probably finish this soon, the lightning elemental has been fighting his bindings, and I think we can release him!¡± Jan''alai said, directing a hopeful gaze Kael''s way.
Kael frowned. He knew little of the spirits, but he had dabbled in shaminism, if only to better understand how to defeat them.
Analyzing the structure of the totem ship, Kael identified several runes of control carved onto different locations across the hull. However, they were well protected by both the lightning elemental, and an array of defensive runes.
¡°It won¡¯t be easy. But it is possible. I won¡¯t lie to you Jan''alai, it would be faster to destroy this elemental than to free it. And every second I delay, is a second my people are in peril. Are you truly asking this of me?¡± Kael intoned seriously. He was conflicted, wanting to aid his new ally, yet his duty outweighed any friendship.
Jan''alai closed her eyes, struggling to answer.
From Kael''s perspective, it appeared as if she was having an internal conversation with someone.
Finally. she opened her eyes, and looked toward Kael with determination.
¡°If we free it, the great lightning spirit will aid you in defeating the Amani.¡±
Kael pursed his lips, uncertain of what to do.
Looking down at the beach, Kael quickly understood that the Highborn forces held the upper hand, and that the slight time delay it would take to free this elemental would be negligible compared to.the time it would take to outright defeat it.
¡°Very well, let us free this ¡®great spirit.¡± Kael reluctantly agreed.
¡°Great! You won¡¯t be disappointed, Goldilocks!¡± Jan''alai fist pumped, then jumped off Al''ar to transform into her dragonhawk form.
Kael swallowed his saliva. He just hoped he was making the right decision.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jan''alai whooped as she dodged a pair of lightning claws, then did a barrel roll to pierce through a sonic thunder clap.
Fire burst out of her feathers as she performed a series of loops in the air, creating a figure eight.
Although she had a beak, and couldn¡¯t flash any teeth, she was smiling on the inside. Jan''alai never had so much fun in her life!
22 years old, and she lived every day in fear. Fear that the Amani would take her next, fears that ultimately came true when all of her direct family were sacrificed for uncaring gods.
Jan''alai breathed fire on the elemental, then swooped down low along the water, barely avoiding the choppy waves.
Feeling the freedom of the rustling wind through her feathers, fighting side by side with a comrade, it made her feel alive. Free like never before!
She looked at the Prince-who was deep in concentration-and watched him sweat as his fingers bent at odd angles to work his magic.
Jan''alai smiled again at the silly sight. She knew asking the Elves for help would work!
¡°Hey Goldilocks, think I can fly a circle around the great spirit without getting hit?¡± Jan''alai said playfully.
The Prince glared at her while he continued to mutter the verse for his spell.
Jan''alai giggled like she did when making trouble for her mother.
Flying in a backwards loop, she began to play distraction once more.
¡®You know you cannot stay here forever, Jan''alai. The prophet has foreseen great strife on this continent. Your tribesman sail even now for Kalimdor. Why do you insist on making friends with the Elves?¡¯ Va''sai, the Loa spirit spoke to Jan''alai through their mental bond.
Jan''alai''s mood dampened like it was hit by a bucket full of cold water.
¡®Relax Va''sai, this is just a temporary team up! My emotions are clear on this! My heart is set on Kalimdor!¡¯ Jan''alai was quick to refute.
¡®Is it now? I thought your heart was set on long, blonde and handsome.¡¯ Va''sai bit back.
¡®Goldilocks?! No way! I hardly know the guy. Besides, Vandercross is much more interesting.¡¯ Jan''alai shook her head, barely dodging a lightning blast while she was lost in conversation.
¡®Oh really? Don''t think I didn''t see you pinch his butt when he caught you. That goofy smile on your face wasn''t fake.¡¯ Va''sai teased.
¡®Th-that never happened! This conversation is over!¡¯ Jan''alai harrumphed, then tuned out her spirit companion.
¡®Hoh hoh hoh, so long as you keep in mind your goal my dear. I like you girl, but our people come first, never forget that.¡¯ Va''sai said before fading to the background.
Jan''alai bit her beak, uncertain of what she was feeling. Everything was confusing her, and she didn''t know what to think.
She was starstruck when she saw Vandercross, but fighting alongside Goldilocks, she came to appreciate his style and composure. He was a little prideful, but he had earned her respect. Besides, his legendary moodiness was much too fun to mock and make fun of!
¡®You¡¯re thinking about him again, aren¡¯t you Little Jan?¡¯ The spirit laughed.
¡®Shush, I have to dodge this lightning blast!¡¯ Jan¡¯alai barked back.
Flapping her wings in a hurry, Jan''alai shook her head, and was determined to distract herself with battle.
That''s right, no need to think about that silky smooth blonde hair that tickled her cheek, the surprisingly strong yet thin arms holding her up, or the firm yet pliable behind. Frail and weak looking, she didn''t have the urge to protect him, nope~! There were absolutely no ulterior thoughts to be had!
She just had to blast this last rune alongside Goldilocks, and-
¡°I. Am. FREE! Thank you little ones.¡± The spirit roared to the heavens as the last rune on the totem ship broke apart, releasing the elemental from his binding.
¡°Easy enough.¡± Goldilocks said all the while sweat was dripping everywhere, and soaking his robe.
¡°Pfft.¡± Jan''alai held back a chuckle.
¡°Hmm?¡± Goldilocks raised an eyebrow.
¡°Oh wow! Amazing work Goldilocks, I knew I could count on you! Thank you for freeing the great spirit!¡± Jan''alai was quick to praise.
¡°Hmm. But of course. It was simple. A trifle really.¡± Goldilocks said demurely, wiping off imaginary dust off his shoulder and trying to look nonchalant.
¡°Pfft hahaha!¡± Jan''alai couldn''t take it any more, and burst into loud, bodacious laughter.
¡°Krieee!¡± The phoenix mount seemed to laugh alongside her.
Goldilocks muttered something, and looked down at his friend frowning.
So cute!
Jan''alai wanted to pick the shorter Elf up, and carry him to see the ancient forests of her home. No walking allowed!
¡°Hey, no pouting Goldilocks! We still have to take out the big, bad Hexlord Malacrass. I can''t do it without you.¡±
¡°Fine. I shall help you.¡± Goldilocks said, lifting his chin with as much dignity as a Prince could muster.
Jan''alai withheld a giggle at the sight.
¡°Follow me Goldilocks, it''s time for revenge!¡± Jan''alai said in joyful anger.
¡°Very well¡Green Beak, I shall acquiesce.¡± Goldilocks said with a smirk, then flew past her.
¡®Did he just-¡¯ Jan''alai thought, before she was interrupted by her Loa companion.
¡®I think I''m beginning to like the boy.¡¯ Va''sai cackled in Jan''alai''s soul space, much to her shame.
Chapter 19
Hexlord Malacrass sat himself upon Zul¡¯Jin''s throne on the deck of the lightning totem ship.
His tiny, diminutive frame made for an interesting juxtaposition when the seat was intended for a 7+ ft. tall Troll.
Dangling his legs off the seat, Malacrass nursed his broken tusk, and coughed droplets of blood due to his broken ribs.
He played with a shrunken Troll skull in his hands, marveling at it.
¡®This will be me soon.¡¯ Malacrass thought to himself with a giggle.
The squeaky laughter flared up the pain in his side, forcing him to wheeze.
Damned healing factor. Why couldn''t he be like the rest of them? Spit upon, and played with like some sort of ball all his life, Malacrass resented the Amani.
They called him a Goblin, forced him to feed on rats to survive, and broke the totem binding his only friend-a weak earth elemental-to this plane, breaking his heart in the process.
Unable to take it any more, Malacrass had willingly defected to the Elves. Ignored by all those who towered over him, Malacrass had heard quite the juicy secrets, and he was all too happy to share them.
He had fantasized countless times about his revenge. How he would cut off his tormentors legs, and let them feel how it was to be short.
Poison their water so they could feel what it was like to heal slower than a Human, and the ravages of disease.
Feed them burnt scraps, and throw them into an ice cell so they would know what cold and hunger felt like!
All his life he suffered, all his life, he yearned to be accepted by another friend. So he sought out the Quel''Dorei.
Malacrass was an all too willing collaborator.
However, things did not go according to his fantasy. No, no, reality was much crueler than that.
Not only did the Elves refrain from opening their arms to him in friendship, they tortured him, broke him, and mind controlled him.
Specifically, an evil witch of epic proportions got her perfectly manicured claws on him.
She promised him power beyond imagination, knowledge known only to the most venerated of Trolls. The witch-whom her followers addressed as mother or mistress-told Malacrass he would become the lead shaman of the Amani, second in command to only the chief, a leader of the entire tribe.
Malacrass politely declined, and told the demon in Elf skin that he was done being a Troll, and would like to begin his new life amongst Elf society now.
The inhumanly pretty demon had laughed! Her black lipsticked lips parted to reveal a sinister, sickening smile that had sent a shiver down his spine.
She told him he would achieve his revenge. Told him in explicit detail her plans for him. What sickened Malacrass was how just she was. How each and every one of her explanations tickled his desires. Yet feared her all the same he did.
She was a being of pure evil.
Every time he caught whiff of her perfume from his room, and heard the click-clack of her high heels, Malacrass knew he would be in for a day of unrelenting punishment.
The torture was terrible! Unbearable, intolerable, insufferable, and many more descriptive able''s aside! The Elves forced-curse them for a thousand years-the Elves forced him to learn how to read!
Day after day, every 12 hours, poor Malacrass spent painstaking hours carefully writing down hieroglyphics, reciting spells, and practicing rituals.
All the while black squiggly lines leapt out from the pages and into his eyes. Malacrass thought he had gone crazy when the Elves told him there was no such thing as squigillies!
But the voices in his head reassured him that the squigillies were, in fact real, and that the Elves only wanted to torture him with more reading!
Malacrass swore to the Elves that the ancient Troll texts tore away at his psyche, yet they didn''t believe him.
When he told them about the voices, the whispers in the dark, they mocked his intelligence. They wondered if such a small body possessed a correspondingly small mind!
It was then and there that Malacrass decided that if the Elves didn''t want him, then he would find new friends!
For the time being, he would play at being the good little asset, and follow that evil witch¡¯s command to the letter.
Unfortunately, it was during this time that he developed a terminal illness. Purple growths began to grow out of his side, lessening his importance in the eyes of the witch.
They tried healing him with potions, holy magic, shamanistic techniques, etc, but nothing worked.
The voices whispered about something called the Sunwell. It was a font of immense arcane power that granted the Elves immortal life. If anything could cure him, it would be a bath in its pools. They told him that if anyone deserved it, surely Malacrass, with his dedication and hard work, was there any more resolute towards the mission? Was there anyone like Malacrass, willing to read for the greater good?! He thought not!
When Malacrass respectfully broached the topic with that witch, he was scolded, and denied all but the oldest, moldiest of rations for the rest of his tenure in Silvermoon.
That day, the resentment grown from the forced reading torture turned into a full blown grudge.
Fine, you want him to become a shaman for the Amani? To return to the bosom of his tormentors?! Then he would do so! He would become such a good pawn that the evil Elves wouldn¡¯t see his knife behind their back until it was too late!
The voices told him of a way to get revenge on both of them. They said that a day not far off would greatly weaken the Elves. To prepare the Amani for a naval invasion.
Malacrass had laughed at the voices, thinking there was no way Zul¡¯Jin would approve of a fleet. The Amani were Forest Trolls, not Water Trolls! For a thousand years, they had stalked the woods, maybe sailing down rivers or streams occasionally, but never sailing on the open ocean!
The voices laughed along with Malacrass, and taught him a binding ritual. One that the fool, Zul¡¯Jin, could not pass up. A ritual he would be willing to pay any price for. Even something as seemingly stupid as a fleet.
This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.
So, Malacrass waited and plotted for the day when it was time to launch a naval invasion of Quel''Thalas.
Finally, the day had come for Silvermoon and Zul¡¯Aman¡¯s reckoning.
With Undead blocking the land route, Malacrass conveniently had a fleet ready to set sail, and avenge the Trolls on their ancient enemy.
It was a very inspiring send off, speeches were made, sacrifices offered, the Loa posed. It was all very moving for the Amani.
Malacrass, meanwhile, barely withheld his vomit at the copious celebration. His only solace from this shameful display of grandstanding was that his plan was almost complete.
So he set out in deliberately stormy waters, watching on in glee as hundreds drowned during the voyage.
Then he led the Amani to a natural chokepoint with the intention of bleeding his ¡®fellow countrymen¡¯ dry. Unfortunately, Zul¡¯Jin had demanded action from him, and he couldn''t afford to jeopardize the plan at that point. Hence his destruction of the cliff face and widening of the beach.
He then sent the totem of water-the best totem for healing and managing the rough waters-away from the main fleet. The more Trolls that passed, the closer his plan would come to fruition.
Lastly, Malacrass sent out a false report to his handler. He also added a force of Elite shadow hunters as a red herring. The longer he kept that witch¡¯s attention locked up inside Silvermoon, the more opportunity he would have to complete his revenge.
Little did the demon in Elf skin know that her asset had bucked the collar!
Now all that awaited was the final step in his plan.
Malacrass knew his time on this mortal plane was swiftly nearing its end. His only wish was to look upon Zul¡¯Jin and the witch¡¯s faces when he, Malacrass, the ¡®Goblin,¡¯ the ¡®crazy dolt¡¯ killed them both, destroyed their civilizations, and got the last laugh.
But fantasy was fantasy, and the cruel reality was, Malacrass was dying. As if to punctuate this point, he began to cough up purple bits of goo mixed with chunks of his organs.
Face paling, Malacrass was growing antsy waiting for the voices in his head to give him the go ahead.
A scout burst onto the deck smelling of fear, and wild eyed.
¡°Hexlord, da chieftain is in bad trouble! Da Elves have caught him in ah bind! We need your voodoo, we need your hoodoo, we need da tings even you haven''t tried!¡± The scout said hurriedly in his report.
Malacrass chuckled, causing purple fluids to drip down his chin.
¡°Heh, the bastard isn''t dead yet, is he?¡± Malacrass kicked his tiny legs from the throne like a kid in a car seat as he expressed his displeasure.
¡°H-hexlord?!¡± The scout blinked his eyes in astonishment.
¡°Oh by the way, ¡®dis, ting, da¡¯ those aren''t proper. Now that I don''t have to pretend to speak like a Trogg, I thought you should know. For such a tall Troll, I''d have thought your cerebrum would be better developed. My mistake.¡± Malacrass sighed in mock pity.
¡°Sir-ee-brum?¡± The scout blinked, cocking his head to the side in confusion.
Malacrass rubbed his eyes in consternation.
Idiots. He was surrounded by idiots.
While Malacrass was massaging his eyes, a phoenix and a flaming green dragonhawk landed roughly on the deck.
The scout reacted with a shout, and charged at the phoenix, axe in hand. For his troubles, he was met with a bolt of fire, turning him into a burning wreck.
¡®Now. Commence the ritual now!¡¯ The voice in Malacrass¡¯ head urged.
Malacrass subtly nodded his head, and prepared himself for the greatest moment of his life. Subtle energies coalesced around his body, and secret runes carved onto each and every Troll canoe began to light up, awaiting his signal.
Everything was ready to go, but Malacrass decided to have some fun before his demise, and see what this duo of unlikely allies had to say.
¡°Your cruelty toward the tribes ends today Malacrass! I''m going to punt you into the sun!¡± Jan''alai snarled.
¡°Indeed. This farce has gone on long enough. All the Trolls on the beach have been slain. It''s over Hexlord, you have lost.¡± A charismatic male Elf''s voice accompanied Jan''alai''s.
¡°I have to thank you, Prince Kael¡¯Thas, without your High Elves, I never would have achieved my revenge.¡± Malacrass cackled.
¡°I played no part in your scheme, creature.¡± Kael frowned.
¡°Not directly, no. The Quel''Dorei are a different story. It was by their training that I could sit here today. You can thank the one they call Faedra for this.¡± Malacrass crowed, and held his arms wide gesturing towards the massive ash pile of former Trolls accumulating on the beach.
¡°Faedra? What does she have to do with this?¡± Kael¡¯Thas said in a mixture of anger and concern.
¡°Everything.¡± Malacrass grinned from ear to ear.
The look upon the Prince''s face was just priceless!
Truthfully, Malacrass didn''t know much of anything about Quel''Dorei politics, but he knew the witch''s name. He never would''ve imagined shifting the blame to her would allocate such a visceral action!
Malacrass clapped his hands gleefully at the Prince''s plight, laughing so much, purple ooze began to spill out of his rashes and scabs.
¡°I''ve seen this in countless Vandercross documentaries! He is stalling!¡± Jan''alai exclaimed, then immediately breathed fire at Malacrass.
Surrounded by a shield, Malacrass cackled as Kael¡¯Thas joined in.
¡°Excelsior! I''ve always wanted to banter ever since I saw one of those low effort Vandercross plays.¡± Malacrass said in a good mood, accepting his fate.
¡°They are not plays! They are documentaries of real life!¡± Jan''alai denied in anger.
Malacrass smiled widely at her. There was no time to debate, his shield was cracking, and he had a ritual to conduct.
Filling his voice with magical energies, Malacrass began a guttural chant uncharacteristic for his typically squeaky voice.
¡°Kith''ix-kalaken!
Kith''ix-kalaken!
Kith''ix-kalaken!
The time has come to awaken!
I call upon the Old Gods: Y''Shaarj, C''Thun, Yogg-Saron and N''Zoth to bring forth this beast from the depths of the ocean, and awaken!
Awaken!
Awaken!
Awaken!
Blood of Trolls, feed upon the screams of their thousand-thousand souls!
Their flesh your skin, their blood your tonic, heed this summons now, your Master calls!
Kith''ix-kalaken!
Kith''ix-kalaken!
Kith''ix-kalaken!
Kith''ix, General of the Black Empire, Tormentor of the Shifting Sands, Servant of Yogg-Saron, I command you in the name of the Old Gods to Rise!
Riiise!
Riiiiiiise!
Riiiiiiiiiise!¡±
Reacting to Malacrass¡¯ ritual, all the blood, flesh, and souls of the deceased Amani were used as sacrificial fuel to raise one of the deadliest forces of nature to grace the realm of Azeroth.
Emerging out of the dark recesses of the ocean came a colossal, mountain sized bug-lobster-cthulhu nightmare.
Its chitin exoskeleton was a deep, umbra purple, and it possessed two magnificent pincers the size of ancient temples. Fins adorned its lobster-like face, four appendages similar to a crabs legs burst from its shoulders, and its eyes glowed a sinister dark orange-yellow.
Malacrass bemoaned that he did not have the souls of Zul¡¯Jin, Jan''alai or Akil''zon to complete the ritual. Their powerful energies would have healed Kith''ix completely of the wounds he suffered in death.
As a result, all along the creature''s exoskeleton were scars, and tiny holes from countless eons of battles past. One or two massive gashes on its armor exposed tender flesh underneath. In particular, a gap in the monster''s armor beneath the left armpit gushed corrupted blood.
Oh well, it wasn''t Malacrass¡¯ concern any longer.
This was the moment of his revenge!
Malacrass smiled toothily at the summoning of his lifetime. The irony of the situation sent Malacrass laughing to his grave.
The thought that the Amani had taken so much pride in their ancestors for slaying this thing, only for the Amani blood, flesh and souls to serve as its resurrection fuel was so funny, Malacrass laughed away the pain.
Taking one last look at it, Malacrass passed on in peace knowing that Kith''ix, legendary creature, and slayer of the Titan Keeper Tyr would be the harbinger of his revenge.
Chapter 20
Varrus was toying with a Grand Soul Gem in his hands thinking about which stat point or attribute he should affix to his gear.
If the latest brush with death taught him anything, it was that either speed (agility) or strength were possibly just as important for survivability as all the other stats.
He thought he could simply perform a short range teleportation in the form of Blink, and keep kiting all of his foes.
However, what if he found himself in a place like the Dalaran dungeons, where casting magic was restricted? Yeah, he''d have a big health bar, but what good was that if he couldn''t shoot flames from his hands?
Varrus could only conclude that he needed to make himself a set of strong-perfectly sealed from the outside world-set of heavy armor.
If he could keep a set of heavy armor in his inventory, level all the perks, and reach mastery in the weapon skill trees, Varrus would be able to swap between melee and magic on the fly.
Eventually, the goal would be to max out every skill tree, something Varrus would hopefully be able to do once this Troll invasion was wrapped up.
He also had a dream of collecting every type of enchantment, so that he could have a set that fully resisted any one type. Take the axe wielded for Zul¡¯Jin for example.
While the Amani chieftain was being beaten into a coma, Varrus had placed his weapon into his inventory. The axe dealt 100 damage of Void damage immediately, weakened its target to Void damage by 30% for 5 seconds, and dealt 500 damage over 60 seconds.
Compared to most weapon enchantments in Skyrim''s Legendary difficulty, this axe was a beast of a weapon!
While it would make for an impressive display piece, Varrus was wary that it might serve as a source for corruption. To play it safe, he would rather disenchant it for the resistances.
Perhaps one day, he might enchant a weapon with the Void attribute, as a weapon enchanted with his own two hands seemed much more reliable than this sketchy battle axe. But that would be for another day.
Speaking of Zul¡¯Jin, Varrus decided he didn''t want to wait around all day waiting for the Loa to be killed so that the Troll chieftain could be finally slain. Furthermore, the Troll girl, Jan''alai seemed to have put her all into fighting side by side with Kael. Asking her to sacrifice her life after all that seemed like a thankless task.
Until he figured out how to sever their bond, Varrus would keep Zul¡¯Jin locked up.
Within his repertoire of spells was an Expert Alteration spell, Entomb.
Entomb: Buries a target permanently, or frees a buried target. Only one victim may be buried at a time.
While it was a pretty OP skill, it did come with one major caveat. That being of course, that he could only keep one prisoner at a time.
Turning towards the bloodied pulp that was once a fearsome enemy leader, Varrus motioned for his guards to stand aside, then cast the spell.
The guards didn''t even question this series of events, but some of them had a disappointed look on their face, and reluctantly pulled back.
¡®Absolute psychopaths.¡¯ Varrus thought to himself.
He could understand hating on Trolls, but the shared animosity was an extreme Varrus had never experienced before.
Seeing that everything was taken care of, Varrus began to analyze the post battle clean up of the beach.
So far, the High Elf forces were looking quite healthy despite the overwhelming odds stacked against them.
Holding the high ground genuinely seemed to work, as the steep angle of the sandy beach made attacking for the Trolls a nightmare.
Furthermore, the majority of Trolls who fought were, sad to say, fodder.
Wearing nothing more than a loincloth and equipped with a stone tipped weapon, they were quite the primitive group.
Arrows and magic significantly thinned their numbers as they disembarked from their canoes. Then when they finally met the Elven line, golems larger and sturdier than them crushed their skulls, and caved their chests in.
Finally, after bypassing the sand and golems, they were met with heavily armored seasoned veterans whose killer instinct was freshly honed off the conflict with the Undead.
The Trolls, unarmored and with no protection from magic-except from the help of the occasional shaman-were slaughtered en masse. Fire rained down upon them in an unrelenting deluge.
In the central line, little more than 87 Elves lost their lives. Any wounds that were nonfatal were almost instantly healed by the careful ministrations of the priests. In comparison, the left flank, held by Varrus saw the Amani trapped in a never ending column of flames, forcing those who had not perished into retreat. The right flank was led by a large number of Heroes supported by golems, losing not a single Elf.
Victory was all but assured, and the Elves of Quel''Thalas were cheering their battle worn, weary hearts out.
This Troll campaign was nothing but good news for Varrus. Countless Soul Gems to line his pocket, and free publicity in front of the Royalist armed forces?
Varrus was swimming in street cred right now, and he was 100% certain that no one could deny his revival of the Convocation.
His position of leadership all but secured, Varrus now needed to focus on personal growth, and the rise of Silvermoon.
No leader accomplished anything without subordinates to help him achieve greatness.
Men and women like Caesar, Joan of Arc, Alexander, etc could only rise to fame due to the success of the people surrounding them.
During the reconstruction, Varrus would need to find suitable candidates to sit on the Convocation with him, and help him guide Quel''Dorei civilization.
He had a few candidates in mind, but Lor''Themar was on his shortlist. The guy wasn''t a great Lord Regent, but his insight into the rangers, as well as his age/experience would serve as a valuable asset and symbol of legitimacy.
Varrus was aware that even with all his substantial abilities, he was still seen as little more than a teenager to most Elves.
Recruiting some older, more respected faces would assuage some of the grumbling, and Lor''Themar specifically would secure the loyalty of the Ranger Corp.
After all, how embarrassing would it be to issue a decree as the head of the government, and have the armed forces disagree?
Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.
Varrus had a few others in mind, but he would have to meet with them, and consult with his wife to see what she thought.
The most important thing the future members of the Convocation could bring to the table besides individual power and expertise was stability.
He needed members who represented the magicians, rangers, priests, and warriors. If he could gather influential figures from amongst those castes into his ranks, then the rest of Quel''Thalas would not be in a place to complain.
Additionally, canonically, the start of Vanilla WoW was quite a few years off, which should be plenty of time for Varrus to farm all his skills, gather the materials for a few suits of OP armor, and learn some more native spells.
There was much to be done!
¡°Highlord! Something is rising out of the ocean!¡± The guard who had been posted as a lookout rushed to gain Varrus¡¯ attention.
Magical sight activated, Varrus saw a mass of purple energies swirling like a tempest. The amount of magic involved was so mighty, it twisted clouds, and created tiny cracks in the sky.
The Elf army, which had been celebrating after a mostly bloodless victory all stopped at the same time.
Like a marionette cut of its strings, many Elves collapsed to the ground, and began vomiting as the pressure emitted from whatever was rising out of the ocean was too much for them to bear.
A wave of mental pollution swept across all those on the battlefield, including Varrus.
¡®Nothing but a boy playing at being a man. You do not belong. You do not deserve her!¡¯
Ceaseless whispers and false images assaulted Varrus¡¯ mind, forcing him to his knees.
Colors of the rainbow, and colors unknown blinded his eyes. While his vision became compromised, alternating male, female, sinister and demonic voices spoke to him endlessly. Sometimes in English, other times in Elvish, and alien tongues foreign to both Earth and Azeroth.
Varrus barely noticed as he felt himself lifted to his feet. Blearily blinking his eyes, Varrus saw his grim faced subordinate, Rho''dan lift his gauntleted hand, then stiffly smack Varrus across the face.
Looking around in a daze, and rapidly blinking his eyes, Varrus took two more knocks to the head before the colors and voices were gradually suppressed.
Yet, while they were suppressed, they still remained, wriggling at the back of his mind. Varrus felt like he could lose control in an instant if he let his concentration slip.
The thought of going back to that headspace sent a shiver down his spine. If he made it out of this one, he had to get his hands on the proper spells or enchantments that protected the mind at all costs! That or level up his Illusion skill tree, and see if that played any role in mental defense.
¡°Highlord, are you with me?¡± Rho''dan leaned down, and said with a concerned tone.
Varrus almost felt like chuckling at the naked fear on Rho''dan''s face. He never imagined the stalwart protector could make such an expression. The concern was touching, but Varrus would much rather show strength so that none of this got back to his wife.
¡°Peace Rho''dan. What is. What is going on.¡± Varrus held up his hand, and was helped to his feet.
The sudden rush from quickly standing and after effects of madness made Varrus unstable, and was forced to cling to his guard for stability.
Varrus wanted to be embarrassed at this weakness, but he couldn''t care less when his life was on the line. There was no shame in seeking help when you were in dire straits.
¡°It is not looking good my Lord. A creature as tall as a mountain is slowly emerging from the ocean''s depths. 98% of our forces have entered a comatose, or near comatose state.¡± Rho''dan said, in the process, he was staggering, and almost dropped Varrus.
Varrus bent his knees, and lent his strength into supporting his friend and companion. His admiration for the long time guard improved by leaps and bounds.
To have the fortitude to resist the mental corruption was impressive to say the least.
Shaking his head, Varrus watched on, his heartstrings tightening as a giant lobster-bug-like cthulhu monster rose out of the ocean. In its grasp was a giant lightning elemental, sparking and blasting at the monster for all its worth.
Like an uncaring god, the monstrosity gripped both ends of the elemental, and ripped it in half, scattering arcs of bright blue electricity all along the skyline.
Shivering at the sight, Varrus had a good idea of what he was up against.
If he was right, this should be one of the champions of the Old Gods. A creature spawned from their organic materials, these beasts were highly intelligent beings that wielded the power of the Void.
Varrus didn''t think the Elven army would be of much use in this situation. What he needed were Heroes. People like Rhommath, the Prince, or his wife.
It was a being that Varrus would consider as a demigod, up there in strength with the likes of Mannoroth, leader of the Ptlords, or Cenarius, father of druidism. There was hope that they could defeat this behemoth. If Grom Hellscream, an Orc warrior pumped up on demon blood could destroy two demigods, then the full might of the Elven Heroes should be able to put on a good show.
Glancing over toward the group of 100 mages, Varrus saw that Rhommath was still out of commission, his wife wasn''t present, and Kael¡Kael was fighting the damned thing! Alongside him were Jan''alai, and to Varrus¡¯ confusion, the lightning elemental.
His phoenix, Al''ar was radiating strong holy energies that Varrus could feel from the beach. That must be why Kael could keep his sanity!
Varrus felt like slapping himself across the forehead for missing out on such an obvious fix. He was so caught up using the Light exclusively to slay the Undead, and heal physical wounds, he never considered it to heal mental wounds! Furthermore, as the direct antithesis to Void, the Light was super effective!
Activating Apotheosis, the max level Restoration perk that could be used once a day, Varrus brought the Warrior''s Flame upon the Elven army.
Holy flames coated each and every Highborn present, gradually rousing them from their nightmares.
A group of Heroes eventually made their way toward Varrus as his light burned the brightest, drawing them to him like moths to a flame.
¡°This shroud of holy light will not last long, Lor''Themar, you must lead the retreat, otherwise our forces will fall into madness. I shall combat this enemy with the Prince.¡± Varrus seriously intoned.
Lor''Themar looked conflicted, before ultimately nodding his head in ascent.
¡°Very well Vandercross. I shall place my trust in you once more. I pray that when we meet again, it is in the halls of Silvermoon.¡± Lor''Themar clasped his hands, then departed.
Turning to address the remaining Heroes, Varrus recognized a few of them. The canonical future Ranger General: Halduron Brightwing. The future leader of the Blood Knights: the paladin Lady Liadran, Archmage Ne''thul the co-founder of the Shattered Sun Offensive. Astalor Bloodsworn the mage who bound a fucking Naaru. Koren, the leader of the dragonhawk knights, and many more such as-Syra?!
Running down the beach in a blur of motion akin to Sonic the Hedgehog, his wife all but glomped him in the tightest embrace of his life.
Varrus wheezed between gasps of air and he felt the enchantments fail to take hold. Evidently his enchantments automatic defense didn''t register this act of love as an offensive attack!
¡°When I felt the wave of corruption from the northern docks, I knew you would need me! Look at you! Your hair is a mess, and your face! Your face is so pale! Tell me who did this to you? I¡¯ll cut them into a thousand, thousand pieces! You can tell me¡can¡¯t you!?¡± Syra spoke like a machine gun. Her face rapidly morphed between love, anger, concern, and madness.
All the while she was adjusting his hair, and stroking his cheek with the back of her hand.
But most importantly, her eyes shared deeply into his, not leaving them for a second. Varrus drank in her care and concern for him, and decided he couldn''t be mad at her.
Where else would he find a woman willing to go to such lengths? A kind, considerate, beautiful, murderous woman with the strength to tear a gorilla in half was his wife. What more could a man ask for?
Varrus¡¯ face was frozen in a mixture of genuine smile, and grimace. On the one hand, he was embarrassed for being manhandled in front of his peers. On the other hand, he was sort of proud. His wife was genuine, loyal, and showed everyone here that she was not to be messed with.
Varrus loved this woman to death!
Leaning in close, Varrus planted a tender kiss on her lips, silencing her tirade.
¡°Thank you for being here. There is no one I¡¯d rather have by my side than you to confront this danger.¡± Varrus heavily breathed upon her face, then returned her hug.
¡°Eh heh, you won''t die today my love. I still want twelve.¡± Syra whispered huskily.
¡°Ahem. My Lady, my Lord.¡± Rho''dan coughed into his hand to get their attention.
Varrus reluctantly pulled away from his wife, he was curious about how the fight on the docks went, but he could always ask later. He then turned to address the assembled Heroes.
If this foe was what he thought it was, he would need all the help he could get.
It was time to slay a demi-god.
Chapter 21
Despite the sound of calming waves, and idyllic cooling sea breeze, the air surrounding the Heroes was tense.
None imagined that a creature this huge was capable of life on Azeroth.
Many Elves were white knuckles as they grasped their weapons tightly.
The smiles and laughter from minutes ago was gone as the realization that another brutal battle awaited them.
Furthermore, every Elf was equipped with the racial trait for magical sight/sense. This made them into expert trackers, able to find the most distant foe, so long as they had a magical signature.
This sight, however, had the dual function of acting almost like a scouter from DBZ. While there was no number or hard quantification of the mana in a creature, it was like on Earth, a gallon jug of water would always be a more impressive sight than a water bottle. No one needed a measuring tool to know that that gallon held more than a bottle. That sudden, and easy judgment that any normal guy could make was second nature to Elves when it came to judging mana levels.
If Kael¡¯Thas¡¯ mana reserves were considered an Olympic sized swimming pool compared to the average High Elf archmages luxury bathtub, then the amount of mana Kith¡¯ix radiated could be considered enough to fill a small-or even medium-sized lake.
This sight alone was enough to drive many of these thousand year old-bonafide Heroes-into solemnity.
Varrus couldn''t blame them. If he was right, then this was one of the two bugs that tag teamed Lore Keeper Tyr into a suicidal self-explosion.
For context, a Lore Keeper was a demi-god like existence created directly from the Titans: Titans being cosmic level entities so powerful, they were widely regarded as gods by many.
Tyr¡¯s silver hand was the symbol for the Order of the Silver Hands, the most famous paladin order in all of Azeroth.
If such a powerful, and influential figure could be driven to such drastic measures such as self-detonating himself, then Varrus would treat Kith''ix with the fear and respect he deserved.
However! This was not Kith''ix at the peak of his power! The child of the Old Gods had been wounded and forced into a slumber for thousands of years. Sometime in the last ten thousand years, before the Sundering, he had awoken and attempted to overthrow the Amani.
Back then, the Amani were one of the strongest, most technologically and magically advanced societies. Though they suffered greatly, the Amani killed Kith''ix for good.
At least, that is what Varrus thought had happened. True to the story of Warcraft, there were seldom any complete, absolute deaths in this world.
Anyone could be resurrected given a sufficient price was paid-such as the resurrection of Lei Shen thousands of years after his demise-death was rarely final in the Warcraft universe if someone had enough resources (or plot armor).
Thankfully, Varrus noticed that the servant of the Old Gods was not 100% healed during the resurrection.
As a long time gamer, Varrus¡¯ eyes were trained to spot any irregularities in color or tone on any enemy.
Kith''ix, for all his frightening grandeur had pock marks the size of watermelons lining his chest, exposing pulsating white flesh beneath the thick exoskeleton. His sinewy muscle looked something akin to crab meat, and just as soft.Another wound-a long gash-ran along his right knee, exposing even more flesh.
Furthermore, the ritual to resurrect him must have had some fault, because Kith''ix was bleeding!
Great globules of purple blood flowed out of his left armpit into the depths below. The water sizzled as the ocean drank in the toxic goo.
Disgusting as it was, Varrus took this for a good sign. Weakened from an incomplete summoning, Varrus felt like they actually stood a chance against this demigod!
Turning to assess the Heroes, Varrus counted 18 Heroes, among them were familiar faces such as Koren, Rho''dan, Syra.
Each one of them was worth at least 1,000 common enemies or more. Any one of them could stand in as a boss during a dungeon instance or raid.
They were some of Quel''Thalas¡¯ most important figures, each one lost would be an irreplaceable burden that could take decades or centuries to replace.
Varrus almost wanted to send them home, afraid to risk his peoples hopes of rebuilding. But that was the arrogance talking.
While he whole heartedly believed that between him, Kael, and Syra, only the three of them would be needed to take Ki¡¯thix down, he had played enough raids to know that every chip against the boss counted.
Top tier dps was important for any group, but without support, and drawing aggro, that so-called top tier would be soloed and scattered to oblivion. It hurt his ego, but to avoid an early-arrogance relate-grave, Varrus was all too happy to partner up with Quel''Thalas¡¯ champions.
¡°We can all see its weaknesses, and know what is on the line. We don''t have time to tarry, however, take these Mana Stones to recuperate while you can.¡± Varrus said, handing out the stones as he looked each and every one of the Heroes in the eye.
When he handed the last stone over to Syra, she beamed at him her signature smile, and clunked her forehead into his.
Varrus grinned back, and stole a kiss on her lips.
Syra gave him some tongue, winked at him, then pulled back, and drew her massive buster sword.
While Varrus was busy flirting, Kith''ix had fully emerged from the water, and took his first step onto land.
Kith''ix''s massive foot was mighty like Earth''s thickest trees. Resembling a clawed, steel plated boot, the foot crashed into the steep sandy beach, and flattened a section of it like a kid running through a sand castle.
Another wave of corrupting forces spread out, like a cloud of fog enveloping the beach.
Varrus was ready this time, and sprayed his allies with the healing spell, Infinite Light.
This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.
Infinite Light: Stream of healing energy that diffracts between targets, healing 150 points per second.
Diffraction between all those present-including himself-any possible mental instability was washed away by the cleansing energy.
Waving off the one second stunlock created by the madness, the Elves reacted almost as one, and began to unleash their strongest attacks.
Halduron Brightwing ran to the beast¡¯s right, shooting enchanted arrows into the gap on Kith''ix''s knee. Each arrow bolt took on a white hue as he infused his own mana into each strike.
The ranger''s arrows were scarily accurate, and exploded deep within Kith''ix''s flesh. Many of his other shots entered the watermelon sized holes pock marking Kith''ix''s chest, causing purple, tainted blood to gush out onto the beach below.
In response, one of the giant crab leg looking appendages on Kith''ix''s shoulders formed a laser beam made of the darkest umbra, and followed after Halduron like a person playing with a laser pointer and their cat. The ranger was forced to do inhuman acrobatics, jumping, rolling, and handstanding unlike any Human athlete could ever pull off.
Everywhere the beam struck, the sand would become goopified, and oozed like the vilest of oil spills. Small tentacled spawn, no larger than a cat emerged from within, and attacked the surrounding Heroes by the dozens.
What was impressive is that Halduron was returning fire with his bow all while he was sprinting for his life!
Varrus was immensely appreciative of his level of athleticism. If it was true that Brightwing owed much of his position due to Varrus¡¯ fathers¡¯ machinations, then he would be a man worth allying with!
While Halduron was busy dodging laser beams, more and more Heroes started making a move.
Archmage Ne''thul, co-founder of the Shattered Sun Offensive finished chanting a spell, culminating in a starry barrage of arcane comets.
Hot white energy balls the size of basketballs made of pure arcane streaked down from the heavens, blackening Kith''ix''s umbra armor. Unfortunately, the arcane comments, while visibly stimulating, did little to no damage. They did, however, distract Kith''ix for a moment, interrupting his umbra beam attack.
Angered at being interrupted, Kith''ix raised a claw, and snapped it several times, creating multiple waves of mental corruption.
Varrus had yet to act, waiting in support for just an occasion. Casting another round of Infinite Light, he freed everyone from another second long stunlock.
Kith''ix took another step onto land, fully lifting himself out of the water. His towering form cast a shadow on the Elves, completely blocking out the sun.
Varrus caught movement within the shadow from the corner of his eye. A big blueberry looking ghostly apparition began to form underneath Syra. It was a voidwalker!
He wanted to shout out in warning, however, all Varrus saw was a blur, and Syra''s sword was resting at his feet.
A voidwalker that had been forming behind him screeched as light energies poured into its essence, forcing it to explode into motes of light.
Where that voidwalker died, Kith''ix''s shadow was permanently damaged. It was difficult to describe, but the dark umbra shadow lost some of its luster, and had turned more towards grey, like a printer''s ink running low.
Varrus managed an appreciative smile at his wife, and blew her a kiss, yet quickly switched his focus to the thousands of voidwalkers surrounding them.
Varrus¡¯ new favorite Restoration spell, Infinite Light sprayed from his hands in a beam, slicing through hundreds of voidwalkers, and healing his allies. The beam acted both as a concentration attack, and was similar in function to chain lightning.
The creatures of Void hissed, and Kith''ix roared in anger, bringing his clawed foot down towards Varrus in an attempt to squash him.
Varrus gripped Syra, and prepared to Blink away, however, his heart seized as his Crossguard were still inside the impact zone!
He held a strong belief in the enchantments placed upon their armor, but he didn''t think they could withstand this amount of force!
¡°Go Highlord! Do not worry about us!¡± Rho''dan said, as if he could sense Varrus¡¯ hesitation.
Varrus felt his wife squeeze his hand, and he knew he had to move, or risk death.
¡®Damnit!¡¯ Varrus internally swore.
However, a second before Varrus was going to Blink out of the way, a giant plate armored golem the size of a gundam sporting a horned helmet, and massive blade ran down the beach''s sandy embankment, and placed itself under the foot.
The golem, reaching a height of Kith''ix''s knees, reminded Varrus of a scenario, like a death battle between one of the robots from Pacific Rim vs Godzilla.
Varrus mentally cheered to himself. The investment into the two scientists had finally paid off! They were late to the Troll party, but they showed up when it counted! However, the golem, despite its impressive height and design, seemed to be on the back foot!
Struggling to gain ground, the golem was slowly beginning to be pushed downwards. The time it bought, however, was ample enough for everyone caught in Kith''ix''s path to scatter out of the way.
¡°If you would be so kind, Telonicus as to demonstrate your new contraption. Or would you rather I claim all the glory?¡± A smug, intellectual voice boomed from within the golem.
¡°Ha! Death awaits you, Tae''thelon, and you are still so assured of yourself. Are you so sure I won''t withhold my fire? They are after all, short sighted designs, correct?¡± The black armored Master Engineer, shouted down from the top of the beach, beside him 33 mana cannons slowly rumbled into place.
The golem''s armor began to shriek as the pressure placed upon it grew more, and more.
¡°Telonicus!¡± Tae''thelon hissed.
¡°Oh, very well. You may fire when ready.¡± Telonicus said to his subordinates.
A moment later, the mana cannons unloaded upon Kith''ix.
Balls of arcane, fire, and frost energy launched outward like ballistic missiles.
As they struck Kith''ix''s chitin armor, rings began to dot him like the mark of a cigar burned into flesh.
None of the cannons could pierce the thick armor, however as the ammunition was purely magical, and fed by a Mana Crystal, there was little more than a 2.5 second delay between each discharge.
Furthermore, as some of the cannon barrels began to overheat from shooting fire balls, the operators would swap to ice elemental rounds, cooling down the barrels and preserving their functionality.
This deluge and constant barrage of elemental/arcane attacks was about as powerful as Archmage Ne''thul¡¯s arcane barrage from earlier. However, under the direction of Telonicus, every cannon could direct their firepower at one specific point, that point in question being the face.
Such concentration started to do some damage, and the soft, fleshy fins on Kith''ix''s head began to break.
Kith''ix¡¯s sight was hindered, and he was forced to raise one of his giant claws to block out the attacks.
Kael¡¯Thas, his phoenix, and Jan''alai all harassed the monster from the sky, their flames burned relentlessly into Kith''ix''s exposed wound under the armpit when Kith''ix raised his arm to defend his face.
The purple umbra blood within boiled, burst and blackened like an overcooked steak. In return, Kith''ix was forced to lower his arm for the rest of the fight, lest his weak point be exploited any further.
Taking this moment while the monstrosity was distracted, the golem personally piloted by Tae''thelon-leader of the Reliquary-lifted with all his power, and toppled the imbalanced servant of the Old Gods.
With its collapse back into the shallows, its shadow was no longer drawn over the Highborn Heroes, and voidwalkers no longer spawned underneath them. Freeing them up to re-engage the enemy.
Kith''ix once more began to claw his way up toward the beach, all the while he was under a constant barrage. His thick armor was turning color from deep purple-umbra to slightly orange here and there.
The beast was down, but not out. Varrus looked at the hopeful determination on his comrades faces, and nodded along with them.
Round one was over, and they had pressed the monster back without suffering any casualties.
Preparing powerful magics, Varrus was ready for round two!
Chapter 22
Varrus watched on, as his companions attacked en masse.
Koren, mounted on his dragonhawk dive-bombed downward while Kith''ix was just about to stand up. He rolled to the side, midnight, dodging an umbra beam, then rolled back into position in an instant.
The dragonhawk knight then drove his magical lance deep into Kith''ix''s left eye. A giant clawed hand pinched up at him, snagging his mount from its tail feathers just a foot short from crushing Koren.
Tumbling out of his saddle, Koren cried out at the demise of his companion.
Varrus reacted quickly, casting the Alteration spell, Drop Zone where Koren was about to fall, reducing any fall damage to zero.
However, Jan''alai swooped in, and picked Koren up with one of her talons. She blasted Kith''ix with a hot jet of green fire before carrying Koren away to safety.
Countless other Heroes dropped a rain of fireballs, and arcane bolts onto Kith''ix, but they hardly phased the Terror of the Shifting Sands.
Its purple blood ran down its chest, creating thick piles of sludge across the beach such that it was an environmental activist''s nightmare.
From the pools of blood, sludge-like creatures would emerge, and attempt to drag the Elves down into the goop.
Varrus, Lady Liadran, Syra and a small handful of other Light users were forced to take their attention away from Kith''ix to deal with these Void spawns. Otherwise, the entire raiding party would be surrounded and killed by these mobs.
In the midst of blasting apart the voidlings, Varrus couldn''t help but chuckle to himself. His group of Heroes made up what was basically a raid group, and these easily slain, yet dangerous piles of goop counted as trash mobs. What was next, Kith''ix having a second phase?
Varrus¡¯ laughter at the seeming gamification of the Warcraft universe was suddenly cut short. He hoped above hope that there was no second phase to this fight!
Looking around, slightly panicked, Varrus calmed himself, and saw one of the more influential figures amongst the Heroes take action.
Astalor Bloodsworn then struck next. His spell was a giant, ethereal manacle made of purple energy. It bound itself to the leg that had been injured by Halduron, holding the beast in place.
¡°Aim for the gap in the knee! I cannot hold it for much longer!¡± Astalor grunted as he concentrated on his spell.
¡°??¨®p ??? ??!¡± Kith''ix screeched in an alien tongue, discombobulating everyone present.
It then directed each of its shoulder mounted crab legs towards Astalor.
Four umbra beams of pure corrupting energy blasted toward the magister a second later.
Lady Liadran, bearing a massive shield, stepped forward, and bore the brunt from one of the beams. The Light energy surrounding her buffering the attack, she was forced backward several feet, yet managed to redirect the beam towards the sky.
Rho''dan and the four other original Crossguard members bore their shields together, and likewise stopped a beam from striking Astalor.
Varrus intercepted the remaining two beams, easily blocking them due to his advanced Spell Power.
However, Kith''ix had an additional attack prepared! His fins around his face-although damaged due to cannon fire-were still an integral piece of the monster.
Rainbow colors flashed around the fins, then a thick solid umbra beam consumed all Light from the surroundings, and near instantly struck Varrus.
Roaring in denial and disbelief as his Greater Ward broke, reformed, then broke again all within a few seconds. His protective enchantment sprang up, protecting him for a second, then Varrus mashed to throw up a Greater Ward that held this time.
¡°Varrus!¡± Syra screamed in despair as she witnessed his near catastrophic death.
¡°Go! Attack the joint on the leg!¡± Varrus shouted.
In a split second, Syra looked at him like a panicked mother watching her baby drown, then figuratively transformed into a momma bear prepared to tear a car door off its hinges to get to her cubs.
She turned toward Kith''ix, and leapt toward its knee, leaving after images in her wake.
The jump took Syra nearly 50ft into the air.
Golden energy covered her form, making her so bright, all Varrus could see was a golden figure of almost pure mana.
Then suddenly, all that energy that was surrounding her body transferred to her sword. The blade which ordinarily stood twice as tall as Syra was now a weapon of pure Light energy. With this newfound power, the sword expanded in size not once not thrice, but up to ten times in size!
The massive blade of Light hummed with untold power. It buzzed so loud, it could be heard from Quel''Thalas.
Before this monumental weapon of the Light struck, Warrior''s Flame triggered, and burned Kith''ix in the radiant energies of the Light from head to toe.
When that occurred, Varrus¡¯ perk, Battle Cleric, triggered as a secondary side effect.
Battle Cleric - When Warrior''s Flame blesses or curses a target, it also increases or reduces armor by 200 points and magic resistance by 25% for its duration.
Kith''ix roared in pain, and reached a clawed hand down in an attempt to stop Syra, but the hand was blasted back by a timely flame jet from Kael and his phoenix.
¡°Do it, Syra!¡± Varrus yelled.
Syra glanced back, flashing him a smile, then brought the sword down.
Kith''ix screamed in pain, yet the injury to Varrus¡¯ ears never felt sweeter.
Syra backflipped away from its fall, landing next to Varrus drained of all mana, yet smiling like a puppy.
Varrus grabbed her by the waist, and smiled into her beauty.
She squeezed back, and began to breathe heavily from the intense mana expenditure.
Varrus wordlessly handed her a Mana Stone, and patted her on the back.
¡°Thank you Syra for everything.¡± Varrus said softly.
¡°Of course my love. I would never abandon you.¡± Syra sweetly smiled, then pinched his arm sharply with her nails.
¡°Now don''t you ever risk yourself like that again.¡± Syra hissed.
Varrus laughed off the pain, and distracted his wife with another kiss to the lips.
She rolled her eyes at him, and Varrus knew she wouldn''t be letting this go anytime soon, but it''s not like he could promise her that he wouldn''t risk his life going forward, right?
He was a central figure with high combat power. So what if he couldn''t make giant swords of light, or jump higher than Michael Jordan? She hadn''t seen his Master tier Destruction spells yet. That''d show her.
Besides, the cthulu-like monstrosity had been brought to its knees! The risk was well worth it!
While Kith''ix was down one leg severed at the knee, Kael¡¯Thas took this opportunity to unleash a grand spell.
Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.
His phoenix companion, Al''ar grew in size at a rapid rate, building, and building so much, he seemed unstoppable. Then, when the mana inside the phoenix began to grow unstable, he shrank in size to being no larger than a small, household dog.
Al''ar had absorbed copious amounts of holy Light from the sun, and was shaking with uncontrolled power.
¡°Remember the Sunwell!¡± Kael¡¯Thas shouted as he released Al''ar from his embrace.
Flying at a speed that would put an intercontinental missile to shame, Al''ar dove beak first into the center of Kith''ix''s chest, easily piercing the-at this point-broken and cracked chitin armor.
A beat later, and Kith''ix''s chest burst open in flame, gore, and barbecued flesh.
Kith''ix staggered, almost completely collapsing. Holding himself up with his claws, the cthulhu inspired being repeatedly slammed his giant claws on the beach towards Kael and everyone else in an attempt to squash them.
The lobster creature moved in an insane frenzy like a cornered beast. It was uncaring for the countless cannon shots, uncaring for the enchanted arrows to its side, uncaring for the mages and golems pounding away at its flesh, and uncaring for the copious amounts of blood flowing into the sea.
It. Wanted. Kael¡¯Thas. DEAD.
The earth shook, cliffs collapsed, and sheer pandemonium swept through the Elven Heroes as mind churning waves of madness spread from each and every impact of Kith''ixs¡¯ claws.
Unable to sit back and watch his friend be smashed to pieces, Varrus, no longer the target of the umbra beams, protected himself from the vile hallucinations due to his Warriors Flame covering his body. Now, while Kith''ix was distracted and on the verge of death, was the time to finally cast his Master level Destruction spells!
And what better spell to use, than the titular spell that the mod list of spells was named after?
Apocalypse!
Apocalypse: Target is assaulted by elemental entities that appear nearby and cast x4 damage Flames, Frostbite and Sparks spells. Lasts 10 seconds.
When he cast this spell, almost a dozen perks triggered at the same time, however, the three most notable ones were the level 100 perks: Absolute Power, Cataclysm, and Glacial Prison.
Absolute Power - Aiming a Sparks, Lightning Bolt, Chain Lightning, Thunderbolt or Lightning Storm spell directly at a target will magnetically levitate them in front of you for 6 seconds, reducing magic resistance by 25%. This effect has a 45 second cooldown.
Cataclysm - Fire spells that hit targets affected by burning ground explode for 20% of their current Health (max. 250 damage), blasting them into the air and reducing magic resistance by 25% for 6 seconds. This effect has a 45 second cooldown.
Glacial Prison - Frost spells immobilize (non-essential) targets in a block of ice for 6 seconds, reducing magic resistance by 25%. This effect has a 120 second cooldown, but killing a victim affected by Glacial Prison or Hypothermia immediately ends the cooldown.
Kith''ix, so caught up in its rampage, didn''t even know what had hit him when jets of elemental energy completely surrounded him on all sides.
The sky shook as a near endless stream of frost, fire, and electricity: froze, fried, and zapped all at once.
Kith''ix''s claws froze midair for a second, before cracking under his might.
¡°?¨¬ ?O? ?V ??!¡± Kith''ix screeched, turning toward Varrus.
The creature slammed a fist down at Varrus, only to have the colossal-severely weakened structure-to be parried to the side by Syra.
Her sword, magnified and coated in Light once again, cut the claw off from the joint in its elbow, having it collapse with a thunk onto the beach.
Kith''ix roared as the power of Cataclysm kicked in, and his entire outer shell began to cook from blue to red, just like a boiling lobster.
Then the massive Sparks spell from Apocalypse stunlocked Kith''ix in place, rendering him immobile.
At this point, the entirety of the remaining Elven forces unloaded everything they had.
Kael conjured a firestorm, baking Kith''ix''s remaining arm into a dried husk.
Jan''alai breathed fire along the joint in Kith''ix''s other knee, forcing him to collapse.
Then everyone else struck at the head and body until Kith''ix until they were out of Mana Stones.
Varrus raised his hands for one last spell: Forbidden Sun.
Forbidden Sun: Giant ball of elemental fire that deals 100 points of damage in a wide area on impact. Targets struck lose 200 points of Fire Resist for 4 seconds.
However, whilst he was within the midst of casting this grand spell, an arrow made of pure concentrated Arcane whizzed through the air, not at Kith;ix, but straight at Varrus¡¯ back!
Ears twitching, Varrus heard the attack basically as soon as it struck
¡°Varrus!¡± Syra screeched.
¡°My Lord!¡± Rho¡¯dan standing a step away yelled, as he pressed forward to interpose himself between Varrus and the assassination attempt.
Everything happened so fast, it was over in an instant.
Rho¡¯dan moved just enough to push Varrus so that his heart was not pierced, however, the bolt of pure mana still struck him. It tore through Varrus¡¯ Ebony Flesh like a pen through paper, and grinded away his protection enchantment. By the time it broke through those two defenses, the magical arrow had spent the majority of its energy, and failed to pierce his flesh. However, while the bolt of pure Arcane power was unable to penetrate his shoulder, it did not mean that it had spent all of its energy. The arrow head spinned like a drill, then exploded on Varrus¡¯ scapula.
The burning pain sent Varrus tumbling a step forward, and scorched his back black with burnt and mutilated flesh.
Varrus gasped from the pain, and stubbornly kept his hands raised, going through the motions to complete his spell!
He heard shouts and such all around him, but they were merely like the buzz of an insect in his ears.
Eyes going bloodshot, Varrus finished the motion, and brought down the final death knell upon the demigod.
.
Conjuring a giant orb of death similar to when Frieza destroyed planet Vegeta, Varrus brought down the hot ball of fire upon Kith''ix''s barely twitching form, and completely obliterated any possible remnants from the face of Azeroth. The sweet ping of a Soul Gem being added to his inventory was all the confirmation Varrus needed to know of his victory before he allowed himself to collapse in pain.
Coughing, and feeling his vision begin to turn to black, Varrus felt someone hold him up, and prevent him from falling to his knees.
Delirious in pain, Varrus barely scrolled through the Skyrim UI menu, and equipped Fast Healing. Raising his hands, it only took a second to release the first spell. Radiant Light energy cascaded over his form, and the wounds across his back quickly recovered. Blackened, ash-like gray skin gave way to the healthy orangish tan that High Elves were known for.
¡°Varrus!¡± Syra said with a mixture of fear, anger, and relief.
Tears spooled down his wife¡¯s face in a never ending torrent as she gripped him in one hand, and scanned the battlefield murderously, pointing her giant buster sword at every other Elf present.
¡°What happened? Was it some final attack from the beast?¡± Varrus said, trying to stand on his own, only for his wife¡¯s embrace to tighten, and refusing to let go.
¡°It would appear that in our moment of triumph, you were the subject of an assassination attempt, my Lord.¡± Rho¡¯dan said in a grim tone, his eyes searched Varrus for any additional wounds, before he too scanned the Elven forces, attempting to spot the would-be killer.
Kael touched down on his phoenix, and ran up to Varrus.
Stopping just out of range of the tip of Syra¡¯s buster sword, he scowled at her, then peered deeply at Varrus.
¡°By the Sunwell, you¡¯re okay.¡± Kael forcefully exhaled.
His moment of relief however, was broken by the fierce cheering and celebration roaring over the horizon. The Elven army had returned, and all their cheer and jubilation was directed at the Prince.
¡°We will discuss this later. I promise you, these traitors shall pay for this.¡± Kael hissed under his breath, and nodded towards Varrus before turning to address the jubilant army.
¡°For Silvermoon, for Quel''Thalas!¡± Kael cheered.
¡°For Silvermoon, for Quel''Thalas!¡± The assembled Heroes cheered alongside him.
Varrus wasn¡¯t as concerned about the assassination attempt as his wife was. He was a public figure, and he had a loooot of baggage thanks to his father, and playboy past. Helios was proof of the animosity that the common Elf had towards him. No, he would have time to investigate later, what mattered most to Varrus now was rebuilding Silvermoon, and getting his people back on track to greatness.
Besides, after this mass battle, he was flush with Soul Gems. Currently, most of his gear was fueled by Common or Greater Soul Gems, and not a single Grand Soul Gem enchanted his gear at all. The assassin would be in for a rude awakening should they choose to try and kill him the same way twice. The protection enchantment would be more than tripled the next time he found the time to enchant his gear.
He also was never in any true danger. Unless an attack instantly and completely obliterated him, Varrus had two get out of jail free perks. They were:
Sacred Guardian - Emanate a 20 foot aura of protection. Any living allies within range who fall below 30% Health are automatically healed 150 points. This effect has a 30 second cooldown per target.
&
Emergency Teleport - When you fall below 15% Health due to combat damage, you briefly turn invulnerable and teleport back to the location where you entered combat.
So in the event that death was a real possibility, he had two options that would rescue him at the last possible moment.
It¡¯s not like those close to him were aware of this though, and they sported looks of concern. In fact, Syra had yet to release him from her grasp.
Catching a troubled expression mixed with a knowing smile from Syra, it would seem, however, his plans for enchanting his gear could wait.
¡®Well. The survival of his race was on the line. It wouldn''t hurt to factor in his wife''s wants and needs into his grand plan.¡¯ Varrus thought to himself as he returned to her a wild smile of his own.
Chapter 23
AN: I¡¯m pretty bad at writing R18 scenes, but I like it vanilla, so here ya go.
Varrus found himself all but swept off his feet after the end of the conflict by Syra.
He had wanted to make inroads with the powerful players, make a speech or two, but he had to settle for waving them off, claiming fatigue after the failed assassination attempt.
Kael said something about holding a funeral the next day, to which Varrus quickly agreed, and told him that he was making a list for the people he wanted to sit on the Convocation of Silvermoon.
The Prince barely got a word in, giving his blessing when Syra''s insistence became unmanageable.
He then teleported home with Syra-and his guards-thanks to the Master Alteration spell: Milestone.
Milestone: Place up to 5 teleportation anchors and teleport freely between them.
As soon as they arrived back in Varrus¡¯ room, Syra kicked the Crossguard out, and slammed the door shut.
Varrus couldn''t even get a word out when she pounced on him.
She twirled him around, and roughly slammed him into the wide oak door, causing it to shake and shudder.
Syra¡¯s tongue entered his mouth a moment later searching hungrily for his tongue.
Varrus wrapped his tongue around hers, and locked eyes with her.
Varrus¡¯s blue eyes locked with Syra¡¯s gold as they lost themselves in each other''s intensity.
A tear fell down Syra¡¯s eye, and she pulled back, and twirled around, pressing her back into him.
¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± Varrus mumbled with concern into the top of her hair.
His right hand gently massaged the back of her hand, while his left hand brushed away the tear trailing down her cheek.
Varrus felt her body shake and shiver, making his heart feel as if it had been pierced by a stake.
¡°Don¡¯t cry, you can tell me.¡± Varrus turned her around, lifted her chin, then planted a kiss on the top of her forehead.
Syra shook her head away, then leaned in to hug him, crying up a storm.
Varrus cooed into her ear, and gently rubbed her back.
¡°Shhh, shh, I¡¯m here. I¡¯ll always be here for you.¡± Varrus comforted.
¡°Liar.¡± Syra said in a bitter tone.
Varrus thought back to the umbra beam that almost claimed his life, and closed his eyes.
¡®So that''s what had her out of sorts.¡¯ Varrus thought to himself.
¡°Hey now, what happened today was unavoidable. Your husband is the representative of Quel''Thalas. If I don¡¯t go forward, and present myself as a target for everyone to resent or look up to, who else will? Besides, I had you with me. I knew I wouldn''t lose.¡± Varrus spoke softly and said while nibbling on her ear.
¡°Hey, that tickles!¡± Syra interposed her hand, and pushed Varrus¡¯ head away.
Varrus licked the palm of her hand, and thunked his forehead into hers.
¡°Syra, when will you learn? My beautiful badass wife helped me kill a demigod today. She screamed my name in worry when I faced danger. She ran Light knows how many miles, fresh from a fight to be by my side. How can I not give it my all to survive when I have a woman like you waiting for me?¡± Varrus said, and stole another kiss, this time on the tip of her nose.
Syra-who was hiding her face behind her long blonde hair-flicked her hair back, and revealed a small smile.
¡°I love you Varrus, and I¡¯m so worried something will happen to you.¡± Syra said, then gripped Varrus¡¯ sides tightly like she never wanted to let go, then buried her head into his shoulder.
Varrus let loose a small chuckle, his murderous, murderous wife really could be an adorable knucklehead sometimes.
Broken out of her place of comfort due to Varrus¡¯ shoulders lifting up and down during his laughter, Syra¡¯s face began to frown with ire.
¡°By the Light! Who delivered this angry little angel into my room!?¡± Varrus loudly, and oafishly exclaimed.
¡°It¡¯s not going to work, I know what you¡¯re doing.¡± Pulling away, Syra crossed her arms and huffed.
Varrus took a step closer, and placed his hand on top of hers. He then guided her hand till it rested upon a slowly expanding lump at his waistline.
¡°My sexy, adorable, perfect wife makes moon eyes at me all day. She all but makes me orgasm over her hand within earshot of the soldiers-while resting in plague infested lands during our trip to meet the wise-yet pulled back at the last second when I''m about to finish.
Then, my beautiful and oh so amazing wife sprang on me-at the last minute mind you-that she will be going to a different battlefield than me, leaving me dazed and confused!
Once we finally defeated the strongest foe of our lives, she all but whisked me away to my bedroom, then started crying! Woman! You made me raging hard all day, and you will damn well take responsibility!¡± Varrus complained as he all but manhandled Syra to sit on the edge of the bed.
Syra blinked up at him, trying to keep a frown on her face, but was pushed down, and had kisses rained down upon her cheeks, lips, and neck giving her anger no room to express itself.
Varrus reached under her bra, and began fondling Syra''s bosom with one hand. The other hand reached behind, and slowly began to unclasp all the belts and buckles holding her kit together.
¡°When you worry about me like this, it makes me worry about you! So stop worrying, and give me those twelve babies you always talk about!¡± Varrus growled into Syra''s boob as he bit her on the nipple.
¡°That¡¯s sensitive!¡± Syra moaned, and went to scratch Varrus on the face.
Varrus caught her wrist, then moved on to the other boob. His tongue lapped at her harnessing pink tits, while his other hand began to snake it way lower into her panties.
¡°Varrus! I-! Oh. Nrmmm.¡± Syra struggled not to buck her hips as she felt him tease her slit.
Varrus began to edge her with his fingers, and felt warm, sticky fluids begin to coat the tip of his fingers. His wife''s face was transforming into a tomato as her sex drive began to kick in.
The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
Before he knew it, she had pulled up his head from her boobs, and dragged her tongue across his chin and into his mouth.
Both her hands held his head in place refusing to let go while they greedily drank one another in.
¡°Nmn!¡± Syra squirmed as Varrus finally put his fingers inside.
She turned away from him for a second, and placed her arm over her forehead. Varrus saw her breasts glistening with his saliva, and became inspired.
Quickly taking off his robe, Varrus mounted on top of Syra, and began thrusting his cock along the tight gap between her boobs.
Syra removed her arm, and looked up at him in surprise, only to have the head of his penis poke into her lips.
¡°Suck on it. Please.¡± Varrus all but begged as the pleasure of her breasts sent shockwaves through his mind.
Syra grinned up at him with her trademarked beautiful smile, then gripped him by the buttox.
¡°W-woah, woah!¡± Varrus said, startled as Syra forced him into her mouth.
Varrus looked at the ceiling in an effort not to cum.
¡°Fuuuuuck.¡± Varrus gasped between breaths as the warm moisture of his wife''s throat drew him closer and closer to orgasm.
He felt her nails tighten on his ass cheeks as she forced him deeper and deeper.
Her moans reverberate around his cock, feeling like a vibrator, and her eyes, oh God, her eyes!
Varrus felt the desire, the passion in that gaze. She was telling him that she wanted him to look at her. Not at other girls, and NOT AT THE CEILING!
Varrus gasped as she took his entire length down her throat, and held him there.
He tried pulling out, but her grip was too strong.
Her head began to pick up pace, and her tongue swished around his shaft in intricate patterns.
Varrus'' eyes were blinking rapidly, and he couldn''t help but press Syra''s boobs together and tighten around his cock as he reached orgasm.
The head of his penis quivered in ecstasy as she focused her tongue to lick. Lick. Lick.
Varrus bit his bottom lip, then finally released his load.
White hot sticky fluids gushed down her throat, and when he pulled back, an extra little spurt landed on her tits, painting them white.
Varrus flopped over onto the bed, and was panting like a dog in the summer heat.
His cock was still twitching, and hardening ever more as he felt the palm of Syra''s hand glide up and down the shaft.
Each tanned finger of hers sent shivers down his spine as they played with both the shaft and head of his cock.
Varrus moaned, and shook his shoulders while she played with him.
¡°My turn.¡± Syra whispered in his ear, then mounted herself on his chest.
Varrus got a good look of her chest while looking up at her, driving his dick to harden even more.
He wasn''t in a position to say anything, because she suddenly moved, and lowered her clit onto Varrus¡¯ face.
Not needing to be told twice, Varrus began to lap at her pussy.
Naughty juices began to flow freely down her legs, staining Varrus¡¯ chest wet.
Feeling his hair being tightly gripped, Varrus moaned into her, and took some of her juices to wet his hand, and began jerking himself off.
¡°Yes my Love, yes! Oh Varrus! Varrus!¡± Syra began rubbing herself, and playing with her breasts as Varrus ate her out.
Her screams only served to harden Varrus more, doubling his hand speed.
¡°Haaah!¡± Syra screamed once more, gripping Varrus¡¯ head tightly as she orgasemd.
Varrus came at the exact same time, his seed spreading to cover her ass cheeks.
Lifting her off his chin, Varrus flicked his hand, casting telekinesis, and holding Syra floating in front of the bed.
¡°Varrus?¡± Syra cocked an eyebrow and questioned.
Rotating her over, Varrus wordlessly began to stroke his fingers all over her body.
Soft as a feather, he glided over every crevice, nook and cranny. No inch of her glorious body went unexplored.
He then rotated her so that it was as if she was laying on her back in a missionary position, yet she was still floating in midair.
Varrus stood still, and gently guided her vagina towards his penis.
Syra opened her mouth to protest, but quickly shut it as Varrus entered her, eliciting a moan.
Closing his eyes, Varrus focused on enduring the pleasure as he repeatedly rammed into Syra.
The warmth and love shared between the two of them sent his heart awash with intense emotions.
Smiling down at the love of his wife, Varrus for the first time genuinely shared in her dream.
Maybe not today, and maybe not tomorrow. But some day, and someday soon, he would make her pregnant.
Motivated by that thought, Varrus turned up the telekinetic motion and practically became an electric powered sex toy he was thrusting into her so fast.
Before long, their shared moans began to harmonize, and Varrus felt his body quiver.
¡°I''m close.¡± Varrus panted breathlessly.
¡°Kiss me.¡± Syra panted back.
Varrus cut the telekinesis short, catching Syra in his arms.
Holding her tightly in his embrace, they clunked foreheads, and gently kissed one another.
¡°Hmn!¡± Varrus breathed into her ear.
Syra quivered, and tightened around his cock in shared orgasm as he ejaculated inside of her.
Unable to support her weight anymore, Varrus fell back onto their bed with her resting upon his chest.
¡°I won''t leave you Syra, you can count on that.¡± Varrus comforted as he stroked her hair.
¡°I''m excited for our future. We''re so young, I can''t help but worry about you.¡± Syra fussed.
¡°And that''s why I have you to talk to. That Sanguinar guy couldn''t say anything after you defeated his man, Thaladred.¡± Varrus boasted, taking pride in his wife''s strength.
¡°Mm hm! We won''t have to worry about them ruining your plans ever again! I made sure of it!¡± Syra looked back at Varrus, beaming him a smile practically begging for praise.
Varrus felt the smile on his face freeze, and the hand stroking her hair still.
An awkward beat later, and Varrus felt his smile widen crookedly.
¡°Yes, of course, my wife is not only a powerful paladin, but a cunning politician as well. Where would I be without you? Hahaha¡.¡± Varrus weakly replied.
Thankfully, she had already turned around, and had begun snuggling into his embrace.
Meanwhile, Varrus was internally freaking out.
He had mentally prepared himself to work together with Sanguinar!
Seeming jerk that he was, the guy wasn''t entirely in the wrong! Varrus, until 5 days ago, was a notorious playboy jackass of epic proportions! One who in Earth terms would barely be considered an 18 year old within High Elven society. Would any sane person trust such a youth to fill a critical role in the government?! Hell no!
While Varrus was slowly coming to terms with his reality, Syra was busy playing with his hair.
¡°Oh, by the way, you can rely on that Thaladred figure, his crime is unpardonable, and he would do anything to keep it secret.¡± Syra giggled into Varrus¡¯ hair.
¡°...and what, pray tell, is his crime?¡± Varrus hesitated to ask, yet he felt like he must.
¡°Why, killing Lord Sanguinar of course, silly! I have to thank Thaladred later for darkening the light in the room during our duel! It allowed me to poison him with a magically activated hallucinogenic. When the battle was won, he thought for a split second that Sanguinar was the enemy, and well, the rest is history.¡± Syra giggled like a schoolgirl conducting a prank.
¡°So that''s why you chose to go on a separate front, and fight away from me. You needed to be close enough to activate the poison, and were away from prying eyes.¡± Varrus said in astonishment, putting the pieces together.
¡°Promise you won''t be mad at me? For leaving your side I mean! Please?¡± Syra glanced at Varrus like she had committed some crime, and she had grown antsy as she hid her face behind his hair.
Varrus shook his head, and laughed in disbelief.
His wife murdered a political adversary, and was completely unapologetic about it. BUT, she was guilty because they fought on separate battlefields?!
His wife was definitely mental.
Feeling tear drops fall onto his chest, Varrus sighed.
¡°Okay, okay, I forgive you.¡± Varrus sighed.
¡°Yay! Now lean back, I still want to make a child tonight!¡± Syra smiled grandly.
¡®Damn this woman was insatiable!¡¯ Varrus thought to himself as he let her take the lead this time.
Chapter 24
Waking up before the crack of dawn, Varrus sat at his work desk in his room, and tiredly went through his routine of crafting more Mana Stones, and grinding out levels.
He needed to create enough to support the population, prepare for emergency situations, and stockpile for the restoration of the Sunwell.
It was a boring, mind numbing task like most jobs, but it had to get done. Slacking now would be begging for failure.
¡°Care for some pancakes, my love?¡± Syra walked in, carrying some flapjacks and scrambled eggs.
Varrus paused in his casting, then took the plate from her with a kiss.
Stretching his arms, Varrus dug into his food with a smile.
He never asked his wife to cook for him, but what man would say no to a wife who cooked?
Besides, Syra was surprisingly skilled when she put on a chef''s hat. Varrus had assumed that she put all of her time into training with her blade and the Light, who knew there was more underneath that beautifully smiling exterior?
If the reveal of her skills at managing poisons was anything to go by, then his wife was full of surprises.
Varrus slowly chewed his pancakes at that thought, then shrugged his shoulders. They all had their secrets. Not like Varrus was going to tell anyone he was a soul from another universe! Especially not his wife, who had an obsession with him!
If she found out any discrepancy, Varrus was worried she would murder him! Fortunately, from the memories he inherited when transmigrating over, he didn''t recall ever meeting her before the day of their wedding. So he should be in the clear.
If queried, he would simply keep up the facade he had presented to the wise, that the playboy personality was all his father''s political scheme. It wasn''t a bulletproof story, but it would have to suffice.
Varrus added some syrup to his pancakes, and gave Syra a thumbs up.
¡°Is good!¡± Varrus said between bites, as he hungrily devoured the fluffy goodness.
It was better than any box mix, that''s for sure.
A slow smile blossomed across Syra''s face, and she leaned down to peck Varrus on the cheek.
¡°I''ll be back later, I have a meeting with the Vanderguard, and some gardening to attend too.¡± Syra explained before turning to leave.
Varrus rubbed his chin in thought, the chef''s apron his wife was wearing at the moment, and his idea about the chef hat could make for some fun cosplay.
A beat later, there was a knock on his door.
Hurriedly wolfing down the remainder of his food, Varrus searched everywhere for a glass of water or juice, but found he was fresh out of luck.
¡°Enter.¡± Varrus said, with an epically dry mouth.
Rho''dan entered the room, and quirked an eyebrow, but made no remark.
¡°Report, any word on the assassin? Did you deliver the letters?¡± Varrus enquired.
¡°We are scouring the city, but my resources are limited given the vast reduction in population. As of yet, there has been no indication as to who the assassin is. However, given the strength of the attack, it must be one of the Heroes who accompanied us on the beach. I have a list of possible suspects, but there is much to be done, and little time to do it. I fear we may never know who this assailant is. I did, however, deliver the letters as per your request, Highlord.¡± Rho''dan bowed, looking slightly worn out and sleepless. Dark circles formed around his eyes, indicating long nights.
Varrus doubted his stalwart guard had slept much or at all since the Scourge outbreak. While he was worried, he hesitated to order him to stop. Rho¡¯dan was Varrus¡¯ sole link to the outside world, should he cease carrying out his duties now, all of Varrus¡¯ plans would come to a crashing halt. Though it pained him, Varrus refrained from commenting on the elder Elf¡¯s current state, and was determined to force his stalwart guardian into sleep after the funeral if at all possible.
¡°We shall find the mastermind in due time, that isn¡¯t as much of a concern to me as the replies to the letters. What did they say? Were there any demands?¡± Varrus said, coughing between bites of pancake to clear his throat, wishing he had something to drink at that moment.
¡°They have all agreed to attend the funeral as your guest, however, two of them may be a problem.¡± Rho''dan explained.
¡°Hoh? Go on.¡± Varrus gestured with his hand.
¡°Thaladred was quite¡how should I put it? Out of sorts. The man almost brained me when I delivered the letter, and seemed to jump at my shadow. I fear he is not what you are looking for, Highlord.¡± Rho''dan said, frowning at Thaladred¡¯s behavior.
¡°Hmm. That is a problem. I have need of a warrior to act as a representative. Thaladred-loud mouthed braggart he may be-is characteristic of the generic warrior. Vain glorious, self assured, he was the perfect fit. Those who share a similar disposition as him look to Thaladred to lead them on the front. Elves capable of wielding heavy armor are few and far between, it is imperative that I have someone of his standing on my side. I¡¯ll have words with him later.¡± Varrus said, nodding his head.
He took another few bites of his meal, and pushed the plate to the side, giving Rho¡¯dan his full attention.
¡°And the other one?¡± Varrus questioned.
¡°Lor''Themar Theron was reluctant to say the least. He claimed his loyalty was to the Ranger Corp. That until his Majesty released him from service, he would hold that post for the good of Quel''Thalas.¡± Rho''dan said, looking at the floor, like a child telling their parent their misdeeds.
¡°Raise your head, my friend, you hold no blame in this. It was expected for the old ranger to be stubborn. However, he is respected by most everyone in Quel''Thalas. With Lor''Themar by my side, the legitimacy of the Convocation will be rock solid.¡± Varrus clenched his fists in anger, knowing recruiting him would not be a simple task.
¡°Perhaps you could enquire with His Majesty?¡± Rho''dan suggested.
¡°I will, of course, do so. However, I fear it will not be so simple. Lor''Themar has served as number two for the Windrunners all his life. Now is his chance to finally fill the chair of Ranger General. A seat traditionally out of the grasp of any save a family member bearing the name Windrunner. Who is to say that isn''t his life long ambition?¡± Varrus said, rolling his hand on a nearby desk in thought.
¡°Then what of Halduron Brightwing? He is Captain of the Farstriders, and a well respected figure. He contributed in the battle against the Deep One as much as anyone else.¡± Rho''dan suggested.
¡°That is a thought, but I had hoped to place him as the next Ranger General. Apparently he owes my father due to his current position. Should he sit on the Convocation as an equal, I fear any sense of gratitude may disappear in favor of political intrigue. Unlike Lor''Themar, Halduron strikes me as the ambitious sort.¡± Varrus said in concern, and shook his head from side to side, indicating his disfavor at the thought.
¡°Brightwing is a..cautious figure. You would be wise to monitor his actions closely. I have seen many an Elf turn on your father as soon as he had elevated their station in life.¡± Rho¡¯dan said, scribbling something on his notepad, and confirming Varrus¡¯ worries.
¡°Haaah~ Very well, I¡¯ll simply have to convince Lor¡¯Themar myself before the funeral service later today.¡± Varrus sighed to himself, and knuckled his forehead.
¡°Very good, sir. I do, however, have more to report.¡± Rho''dan said with a salute.
¡°Dispense with the formalities, Rho''dan.¡± Varrus tiredly waved, it was too early for this shit. In fact, he enjoyed the respect, but when he was in his private quarters, he didn''t want to be treated like some Korean manager in a manhwa.
Rho''dan clicked his heels, and saluted again.
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
¡°You are Highlord. If even I, your chief protector do not honor you so, what message does that send to the rank and file, much less the common citizenry?¡± Rho''dan said in a serious, almost chastising tone.
Varrus sat up straight, then met Rho''dan¡¯s gaze.
¡°Very well, I am, after all, still a ¡®child¡¯ and have much to learn. Thank you for your reminder, Rho''dan.¡± Varrus replied seriously in turn to show his friend and chief guard the respect her deserved, and that he took the sentiments to heart.
¡°Now dispense with the report.¡± Varrrus stated commandingly.
¡°Highlord.¡± Rho''dan saluted.
¡°The entire civilian population that you had given an ultimatum to have migrated out of the mansion''s boundary.¡± Rho''dan said, pulling out a folder to share with Varrus.
Accepting the folder, Varrus saw that it listed the number of employees, and such directly under House Vandercross.
343 House Guard
122 Crafters
22 Farmers
Total: 487
Daily Expenditure: 974 Mana Stones
It was an abysmally low number of people that had decided to stick around.
Varrus couldn''t really hate those who had left, but it did leave him feeling a little bitter.
The Crossguard were a paramilitary organization. Varrus was certain many of those people who left were either civilians, or already belonged to an organization. Ones such as the Ranger Corp under the Ranger General, or the Magisters, who fell under the overall authority of the Grand Magister. Both organizations answered to the Monarchy, and it would be silly if Varrus thought to retain them.
In fact, looking at it like that, he was lucky to have kept so many people. Who would want to risk their life for some uppity noble with a terrible reputation when you could go back to your peaceful life now that the Sunstriders have returned.
¡°It makes sense for the people to leave since the Undead threat is all but solved within the confines of Silvermoon. What I don''t understand is why would they leave when Mana Stones are so readily available?¡± Varrus questioned aloud.
High Elves were a magically addicted race. If they didn''t get their fix, they would transform into ugly, deformed, vampiric gremlins.
Varrus shook his head, it just didn''t make sense!
¡°If I may? I believe rumors have reached the people about your generosity at Sunstrider Square. Many believe you will continue with this charity to secure your seat on the Convocation.¡± Rho''dan said with some embarrassment in his voice.
¡°Well, I suppose I''ve invited this upon myself then. So be it. Double the pay for my retainers. You have my permission to take the additional funds from the vault. Also, send a message to Lor''Themar, tell him I will meet him ahead of the funeral.¡± Varrus tiredly waved.
This was possibly going to delay the restoration of the Sunwell by a few weeks, but it wasn''t like he planned on recharging it anytime soon anyway. Besides, all of the Mana Crystals he handed out were no larger than a fist. He could pay the entire cohort-and more-with one Master tier Mana Stone. It really was no big deal.
¡°I will do so. Furthermore, there is something I think you would be interested to know.¡± Rho''dan whispered conspiratorially, and looked left and right.
Varrus rubbed his temples. Every time Rho''dan did this, he would speak of his mother-in-law.
¡°My sources witnessed an armed conflict in the city involving what appeared to be a group of circus performers versus some Troll rogues.¡± Rho''dan lowered his head so he was barely audible, and double checked the muffling ward in the room while he spoke.
¡°And this involves my mother-in-law, how exactly?¡± Varrus raised an eyebrow skeptically.
¡°Precisely because they were rogues that I drew that conclusion.¡±
¡°Stealth and invisibility aren''t unique to Faedra, do you have any direct evidence?¡± Varrus queried.
¡°You are still young, Highlord, and I understand your skepticism. However, with the Mistress of Murder Row, a lack of evidence is often all the evidence one needs.¡± Rho''dan replied cryptically.
¡°Riiiight.¡± Varrus half-smiled, and said in disbelief.
¡°If it helps at all, often when a mysterious circumstance, or death occurs, an Elf dressed in a strange costume is often behind the case. One century, the killers dressed in Troll skin, the other, they all polymorphed themselves as children. From my centuries of service to your father, I can confidently say that this is that group. They are a troupe of saboteurs, murderers, and spies under the explicit control of your mother-in-law.¡± Rho''dan confidently concluded.
Varrus pursed his lips, but chose to go along with Rho''dan''s interpretation of events.
¡°Okay, let''s say this group of killers belongs to Faedra, is there any significance behind her defense of Silvermoon? I seem to recall her leaving the Palace of the Sun to go deal with something, so that checks out. But so what?¡± Varrus pressed.
Rho''dan raised his hands in the air, and took a step back.
¡°It was information I thought prudent for you to be aware of. Faedra is a dangerous woman, and I hope you take her as the serious threat she is.
For millennia, your father quarreled with King Anasterian, yet Faedra seemed to always be meddling on both sides. It is my duty as your protector to inform you of possible threats. I only wish for the Highlord to be aware of the political situation, and the power-both seen and unseen-that Faedra wields.¡± Rho''dan brusquely explained his position, as if he was getting something off his chest.
Varrus tapped a finger on his chin, and couldn''t help but agree with Rho''dan''s take.
His mother-in-law was a conniving witch who flip-flopped her opinion of him at the drop of a hat. In fact, it was due to her intimidation, not his name, charisma, or power that gained them entry into the palace and an audience with the wise.
Faedra was a dangerous woman, and it was time he treated her as such. He couldn''t blindly rely upon the relationship he had with her daughter. For a calculating woman like that, who knew how important the bonds of family truly were?
Rho''dan was slightly fidgeting, looking like he wanted to say more, but also realizing Varrus¡¯ patience for this report was growing thun.
¡°Alright, enough prancing around, if you have something to say, just say it.¡± Varrus tiredly waved towards Rho''dan.
¡°Some rumblings of rebellion have reached my ears. They claim that should you refuse to supply Mana Crystals to the people, not only will they see you stripped of your title, but they plot for all the possessions in your vault.¡± Rho''dan expressed in a casually serious tone, like someone reading off a grocery list.
¡°Good eye, Rho''dan. Keep me posted. Is there anything else you have to report, or on your mind?¡± Varrus asked, growing tired of managing his forces.
¡°As a matter of fact, there is. Per your instruction, we have gathered as many building materials such as clay, raw ore, and iron ingots as possible. There is a list, and a few pallets have been placed in the vault.¡± Rho''dan reported.
Varrus perked up, he liked the sound of that!
¡°If you don''t mind me asking, Highlord, have you, perhaps, been hiding your talents as a blacksmith as well?¡± Rho''dan almost stuttered as he asked.
Varrus grinned at the awkwardness presented by his chief enforcer. Rho''dan was typically serious, and no nonsense, but it seemed Varrus¡¯ ¡®hidden talents¡¯ had driven this stoic to endure a slight amount of madness.
Holding a Mana Stone in his hand, Varrus played with it for a moment, slowly drawing out his reply.
He swore he saw Rho''dan roll his eyes at Varrus¡¯ childish antics, but he didn''t mind.
"I''ve never forged anything in my life.¡± Varrus finally revealed.
Rho''dan seemed to sigh in relief, as the tension left his shoulders.
¡°But I wouldn''t bet against my capabilities.¡± Varrus finished, then tossed the Mana Stone into Rho''dan''s hands.
Before Rho''dan could respond, Varrus waved his hand dismissively.
¡°We all have to prepare for the funeral being held later today at Sunstrider Square. Before we head out, I want the entirety of House Vandercross assembled outside my balcony.¡± Varrus said with finality.
¡°Yes, Highlord.¡± Rho''dan bowed at the dismissal, and left to carry about his duties.
Now that he had a moment alone, Varrus started to leaf through the books in his room till he found what he was looking for.
[Basics of Conjuration] was the title he wanted most.
Consuming the book with the help of the Skyrim UI, knowledge entered his mind in a flash.
Now, not only could he cast the few spells inside, but he had access to the theory behind the magic as well.
Lifting his hands, Varrus began to cast a spell, then internally cheered when a leather sack appeared in his hands.
Uncapping the lid, Varrus all but chugged the water as fast as he could.
¡°Bleh! Tastes like faucet water.¡± Varrus complained to himself.
Wiping his mouth with his sleeve, Varrus looked in a nearby mirror, and sighed.
Skin flawless like an actress, and hair that could put a shampoo model to shame, his new body was both tall, and thin as a rake. Compared to a human, he was frail, yet unlike a human, he could feel the magic course through his veins and flow all around him.
It was 6 days since he crossed over, and he still hadn''t completely adjusted to his new life. Things had happened so rapidly, this week was but a blur.
He never imagined that he would ever be in a position to guide a country, or be married to a beautiful psychopath.
Varrus survived more horror in the last 6 days than he had for the entirety of his life.
Now that he had Master tier spells, and time to improve himself, he would never allow his city to be destroyed again.
Slinking into the room, Syra embraced Varrus from behind, and silently stared at him in the mirror.
Varrus leaned back into her embrace, and breathed in the scent of nature radiating off of her.
Smiling at her reflection, Varrus reached down to hold her hand.
War, politics, what did they matter when he had moments like this?
Chapter 25
Standing on the balcony overlooking the square in front of his mansion, Varrus clung to the railings, overlooking the hundreds of people who chose to follow him.
Each of them were dressed in long, flowing robes, or equipped in armor.
Standing behind Varrus were Syra, Rho''dan, and Helios. The other four veteran guards were each escorted by an arcane golem carrying a large sack. Walking through the crowd, the veteran guards handed everyone present a bonus of 10 fist sized Mana Stones.
At the same time, a man and woman dressed as a butler and maid handed out glasses of wine.
The veterans swaggered with a sense of superiority as the members of House Vandercross muttered their thanks.
Varrus allowed them their moment, Elves would always be arrogant assholes-especially to one another-it was simply part of the culture.
If he tried to forcibly change their ways, it would be like forcing a deeply religious person to convert to another religion. It was absolutely not worth his time and effort to force his Earthly sensibilities onto these thousand year old+ High Elves.
As the old saying went, ¡®when in Rome, do as the Romans do.¡¯
So, Varrus simply smiled down at his employees while his guards handed out a sizeable bonus.
Their well polished plate armor glistened in the morning sun, and sported the classic Silvermoon colors of red and gold. On their chests was a stylized V signifying Vandercross.
Veteran Guards:
In fact, everywhere Varrus looked, banners of House Vandercross were hoisted in the air, depicting the V.
The robes of every member also had that same V stitched above their heart.
If there was anything Varrus knew about most people, it was that they liked to feel like they belonged.
Uniforms sucked, true, but there were also many people who were caught up in the swagger. Guilds in WoW for example, were partially popular due to their tabards. On Earth, people identified one another on the battlefield due to their heraldry, and this concept even carried through to modern day between opposing sports teams.
The point was, wearing a symbol made people stand for something. That the people down below all stood for Vandercross!
Varrus smiled as the last in line was handed their bonus, and Varrus raised his hands wide to calm all the muttering chatter.
¡°My friends, my people, Silvermoon is ours!¡± Varrus raised a glass of wine, and toasted the assembly.
In response, the Elves silently raised their glasses, and toasted Varrus in turn.
Taking a sip, Varrus let the sweet drink slip across his lips, before setting the glass down.
¡°It is by your hands, the Undead have been cleansed. It is your efforts that have held the northern docks, and protected my wife! I salute you!¡± Varrus slightly bowed, and inclined his head.
¡°Now, however, is a time for rebuilding. As is evident, our fair city is in ruins. Every hand shall be needed in its reconstruction. House Vandercross, despite our noble origins, is no exception. Once the funeral comes to an end, reconstruction will begin tomorrow. Before we leave to honor our fallen, I have one final gift!¡± Varrus spoke like the typical politician or showman, then gestured towards a dozen boulder sized objects covered in cloth that sat in the square.
The veteran guards wordlessly removed the cloth, revealing twelve monolithic Master tier Mana Stones.
¡°Mana Stones, I expect, will become the favored currency in the coming days, making you, House Vandercross, the wealthiest citizens in all of Quel''Thalas.
However, I want you to flaunt your wealth, to show the world the splendor of our Great House. While all those who abandoned us feed on scraps of Mana Stones, you my friends, you will enjoy the mana from the crystals in this square whenever you so desire!¡± Varrus gestured and spoke grandly.
That seemed to get a reaction out of the smug Elves, as more than a hundred of them broke composure, and nakedly stared at the stones in hungry anticipation.
Varrus grinned like the cat that had caught the canary. He had bribed these people, shown his power, and showered them with bonuses.
These 487 Highborn would form his core powerbase.
As a member of the Convocation, all he had going for him was personal power, and the prestige of his father''s name.
With real, physical people spreading his good name, and rumors of his generosity spreading throughout the land, his place among the Convocation would be undeniable.
¡°We depart in 15 minutes, enjoy.¡± Varrus waved his hand at the giant Mana Stones, then left the balcony and headed towards his office to go over his ledger.
Helios, Rho''dan, and Syra tagged along, following a step behind.
¡°Is this wise, Highlord? I would not be surprised if a thief or even a mob came to steal these Mana Stones kept out in the open.¡± Helios questioned.
Varrus nodded in reply, and paused to gather his thoughts.
¡°I plan to have Rho''dan distribute one of these large Mana Stones at the intersection of every main thoroughfare. At that location, a squadron of Crossguard shall ensure fair distribution of my gift. The open display on our own turf, of course, acts as free advertisement for the benefits that House Vandercross offers its members. As a ranger, I do not expect you to understand business tactics, but your council is welcome all the same.¡± Varrus slowly intoned as he briefly paused in his step to genuinely give credence to the possible ramifications of leaving Mana Stones out in the open.
Helios pursed his lips, obviously displeased with the plan.
¡°Whatever my husband does, I''m sure it will work!¡± Syra praised, squeezing Varrus'' arm.
¡°The risks of theft are not small, I will grant you that. Our people, however, are in a bad spot right now, and need all the help they can get. I will not go back on my word, nor will the people of Quel¡¯Thalas find my home so easy of a target.¡± Varrus shook his head, and said decisively.
¡°You are thinking about this the wrong way, Helios. The Highlord is killing two birds with one stone. By instituting the Mana Stones in such an above board manner, he can protect himself from the enemy within, as well as reinstitute the rule of law upon this city, cementing his authority as Highlord.¡± Rho''dan patiently explained.
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
¡°I did not know you were so far forward thinking, my Lord! I thought the desperation of our people was only a weakness, and not your strength. Bringing law and order to a city lost to despair? I expected a Vandercross to brutally strike down dissidents or resort to mind control to restore order. You surprise me yet again, Highlord.¡± Helios passively verbally backhanded Varrus, while paying him a compliment.
Varrus could only scratch the back of his head. He didn''t even think of theft as a serious issue, and just wanted to keep his people from transforming into Wretched. The less of those ghastly gremlins he had crawling around, the safer Silvermoon would be for everybody.
But if his depressed ranger, and stalwart guard thought he was a 5D chess player, why disabuse them of that notion?
Shrugging his shoulders, Varrus¡¯ good mood was put on hold when he entered his work room, and saw his mother-in-law lounging at the long table in the office.
¡°You two are dismissed.¡± Varrus tiredly waved towards Helios and Rho''dan.
¡°Awe~ that''s too bad, having a strong man like Rho¡¯dan around might just keep me tame~.¡± Faedra blew a kiss at the stoic guard as he bowed his way out of the room.
¡°What do you want?¡± Varrus said while crossing his arms.
¡°My, the way he wields authority, he must be quite demanding in bed, isn''t that right, Syra?¡± Faedra slinked out of her chair, and rubbed her hand over her belly.
Syra frowned, and swatted Faedra away.
¡°Answer him.¡± Syra demanded.
¡°Why must I want something? Can a mother not visit her family, and congratulate them on a job well done?¡± Faedra swept a well manicured hand through her perfectly maintained black hair, and smirked at the pair.
Varrus kept his arms crossed, and gave her a disbelieving look as if to say ¡®really bitch?¡¯
¡°Oh, you''re no fun. You two, so stoic, so boring. You were made for one another.¡± Faedra rolled her eyes, and toyed with a chess piece from an ornate chess set that was displayed along the wall.
Varrus rolled his eyes. If only Faedra knew how much her daughter loved to laugh, cry, and shout. It only went to show how strained their relationship must truly be.
¡°Why don''t you guess my intentions?¡± Faedra said playfully.
Syra unsheathed her blade, and held it to Faedra''s neck.
¡°Feisty as ever, my dear! But I was asking the Highlord. Here, I''ll sweeten the deal, guess my intention for arriving here, and I''ll tell you a secret.¡± Faedra gently brushed the blade to the side, and uncorked herself a nearby bottle of wine.
¡°To influence who I place upon the Convocation?¡± Varrus slowly entreated.
¡°Incorrect. Although I happen to know your troubles in securing a certain Ranger General. Win this little game, and I''ll throw in a juicy detail of his as a freebie~.¡± Faedra swirled her finger on the lip of her wine glass, then took a shallow inhalation, then lightly moaned into the cup.
Varrus paused in thought, taking a minute to formulate a reply.
¡°Oh, you haven''t spoken yet? You have two more guesses.¡± Faedra said, appearing disinterested as she closed her eyes, seemingly enjoying the scent of her beverage.
Varrus racked his brains, why else would Faedra be here ahead of the big funeral planned later in the evening? Certainly not to share with him who the assassin was, in fact, for all he knew, she could be behind the attack, or at the very least, be involved in some way. No, he very much doubted that this was the reason for her visit.
Pulling up his canonical knowledge of events, Varrus thought of one possibility, but it seemed like a long shot. Shrugging his shoulders, he decided to go for it.
¡°To warn us of Kael¡¯Thas¡¯s intention to leave Quel''Thalas with 15% of our fighters, defeat the Scourge, and look for a replacement for the Sunwell?¡± Varrus wondered aloud.
¡°No, but that is certainly news to me! Information of this caliber. Why if it''s true, it changes everything! Who is your source, my dear? I could certainly have a good chat with them!¡± Faedra snapped her eyes open, and stared at Varrus in wonder, like she was some bird that had discovered a new shiny to collect.
¡®My source? My source is that I made it the fuck up!¡¯ Varrus thought to himself internally, yet externally all he presented was a silent, smug smile.
¡°Oh, very well, stay silent. It is only a matter of time before I see them for myself. In the meantime, I do believe you only have one more try! Well would you look at that!¡± Faedra clapped both hands on her cheeks, and adopted a look of faux surprise.
¡®Damn bitch sure enjoys toying with people.¡¯ Varrus felt like grinding his teeth at his mother-in-law''s constant provocation.
¡°Someone knows-or suspects-that I am involved in killing Sanguinar.¡± Syra said softly.
¡°Bravo! I would expect nothing less from my darling daughter!¡± Faedra clapped.
Varrus scrunched his brow. That was not good. In fact, that was very not good.
If you were going to commit a crime, then rule #1 always was, and always would be ¡®don''t get caught.¡¯
Considering Sanguinar''s political connections when he was alive were extensive, there was a good chance that should his murder come to light, Syra could face court ordered execution or exile.
¡°My oh my, the fear and confusion on your husband''s face! You truly lucked out, my dear! It seems he does care! When can I expect grandchildren?¡± Faedra covered the back of her hand, and lightly chuckled.
¡°My wife''s position in this city is on the line. Of course I would worry about her!¡± Varrus all but growled.
Syra squeezed his hand, and gave him a wide smile, calming him down.
Varrus clung close to her. He would never let anything happen to her!
¡°Oh don''t look so panicked! Fretting over a small matter like this, let mother take the blame for it!¡± Faedra said, standing from her seat, and stretched like a lazy cat.
Varrus took a deep breath to calm himself, and reached out to shake Faedra''s hand, and offer his thanks.
However, Faedra''s arm disappeared from Varrus¡¯ sight in a blur, and was wrapped around Syra''s shoulders instead.
¡°Oh my! Apologies, but I do not touch taken men! Eyes only, young romantique! We wouldn''t want anyone losing a hand or an arm on these floors, now would we?¡± Faedra winked at Varrus, then planted a light kiss on Syra''s cheek.
Varrus retreated his hand, and felt confusion at the entire situation?
Was Syra''s mom telling him she was a lesbian? But all those times before, he swore she was flirting with him! He also saw her flirt with Pathaleon the Calculator. Was she really just a femme fatale!? Was she threatening to take off his arm, or reminding him of Syra¡¯s threat?
Varrus was so confused!
¡°Well then, I look forward to each of your performances later today. This funeral is sure to be the most entertaining vigil of the ages!¡± Faedra gulped down the rest of her wine, and slowly disappeared from sight.
¡°Wait! The information on Lor''Themar! We won your game, you must hold up your end of the bargain!¡± Varrus held up his hand and shouted.
¡°So feisty! Very well. Lor''Themar has been Lireesa Windrunner''s boy toy for centuries~ Make of that what you will.¡± Faedra said before completely fading from sight.
Even with his Detect Life spell and magic sight granted from his racial skill tree, he could find no trace of the crafty minx.
Varrus was unnerved by her abilities, yet when he was going to turn to his wife to ask a question, an object clattered to the floor.
Upon closer inspection, it was the chess piece from earlier. It was a dragonhawk knight.
Once she departed, Syra blasted the chess piece with a blast of Light magic, melting it.
Varrus grew increasingly dissatisfied with Faedra, yet he couldn''t discount her usefulness. This warning came on the cusp of a very important event, one Varrus could not afford to fuck up if he wanted to become a major player in Quel¡¯Thalas.
¡°I was careful with my operation. No one should know of my involvement. Unless she told them.¡± Syra silently raged.
¡°You think your mother was involved?¡± Varrus questioned.
¡°Only so she could gain your trust. It wouldn''t be the first time she kept someone''s secrets to her advantage. Who do you think I learned how to manipulate Thaladred from?¡± Syra pointed out.
Varrus could only remain silent at that. This mother, daughter duo were quite the pair.
He thought the worst thing he''d have to deal with in this new world were zombies, demons, and tentacle monsters.
Little did he know his mother-in-law would be the source of his greatest headaches?
Chapter 26
Marching with the entirety of House Vandercross, Varrus was dressed to the nines.
His body was perfectly groomed, and manicured. It felt weird to be this pretty, but when everyone else around him looked like a supermodel, at least he didn''t stand out.
Walking across the ruined capital once more really drove home the melancholy of the High Elves plight.
For the crafters who had stuck around his family manor this entire time, this was their first time seeing the devastation of Silvermoon, and many of them had tears in their eyes.
A small handful of children-those who were without parents and had nowhere to go except House Vandercross-were positioned at the front of the column, and were adorned with flowers and the brightest colors.
Varrus thought it a little odd to force kids to march at the front, but Syra insisted on giving them the most respect and attention.
Her intention was to celebrate life, and give these kids a new memory to forget about these dark times.
Varrus figured he wouldn¡¯t bother arguing with that, so he had enchanted their robes with Petty Soul Gems so they could have the Stamina to make the trek.
With their newfound energy, and seeming unending stamina, the children were running around, and jumping all over Syra and Varrus.
Syra had a little girl climb on her shoulder, and a little boy running up to her, and hiding behind her so he couldn''t be tagged.
Varrus didn''t cry, but his eyes were sparkling as he saw the innocent smile on his wife''s face, and her genuine good cheer at the innocence brought by the children.
Last night had been tough on her, and seeing her smile brought warmth to his heart.
He felt a tug on the hem of his robe, and looked down annoyed that his moment was broken.
The little boy who tugged on his robe saw the look on Varrus¡¯ face, and stumbled backward.
Varrus saw the kid was about to fall into a mud pile, and instinctively halted his fall with telekinesis.
¡°Be more careful.¡± Varrus gently admonished, setting the child down with his peers.
¡°Woah! Again! Lift me again, mister!¡± The child ran from his friends, and clammored at Varrus¡¯ side.
Annoyed, Varrus flicked his finger, and gently tossed the kid to land with his friends.
Taking note of their flying friend, the rest of the kids ran up to Varrus with stars in their eyes.
Varrus rubbed his forehead. He had important meetings to conduct later today. Stressful, impactful meetings that he had been rehearsing in his head for the last hour. He did not want to be distracted entertaining some snot nosed brats!
¡°Yes, big brother will catch you! One, two, three!¡± Syra cheerfully said from the side, then yeeted one of the kids 50ft into the sky!
¡°Syra?!¡± Varrus blinked in surprise.
The fact his wife acted without hesitation, or his input was 100% a trait of hers. He loved her for being spontaneous, but damn woman, did you have to toss a kid in the air!?
¡°AaaaaAAAHHHHhhhhHHhh!¡± The kid screamed as he took flight.
¡°Better catch him.¡± Syra said, shading her eyes to watch the child''s accent.
Varrus sighed, and gently lowered the child.
¡°Again, again!¡± The boy said between heavy breaths as snot and tears freely flowed down his face.
¡°Not fair!¡±
¡°Me next, me next!¡±
Many of the children started clamoring, pushing and shoving their way to Varrus¡¯ side.
¡°I don''t know-¡± Varrus took a step back in uncertainty.
¡°Of course he will!¡± Syra volunteered for him, then chucked the boy even higher.
She didn''t stop with him either, and soon 12 screaming wriggling brats were flying through the sky.
¡°Oh this is some shit.¡± Varrus muttered under his breath.
Realizing if he took his time to gently drop each and every child onto the ground, he would likely lose one or two of them to gravity.
Plan B it was.
¡°Hold on kids, there''s going to be some slight turbulence!¡±
Casting Drop Zone, the Alteration spell created a wide circle where any fall damage was negated.
Varrus then gripped a child with his telekinesis one by one. Instead of being gentle, he followed in his wife''s footsteps, and yeeted them back towards solid ground.
Several crafters, and farmers who had never witnessed Varrus perform magic before gasped, and one woman screamed as the children came barreling down.
Aiming each child into the Drop Zone, they came down like ballistic missiles, and impacted harmlessly within the circle.
A moment of silence passed, then the kids began to jump up and down like they had gotten off their favorite roller coaster.
Syra hugged Varrus from the side, and placed her head on the crook of his shoulder.
¡°You''ll make an excellent father. I can''t wait.¡± Syra whispered, and wrapped his hands around her waist.
Varrus held her close, breathed in the scent on her hair, and closed his eyes.
¡®Yeah. Maybe being a dad wouldn''t be so bad?¡¯ Varrus thought to himself as he heard the wild laughter coming from the children, and brightening up this dreary, war torn city.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Marching up the main street in the royal district, House Vandercross took up a position on the side of the streets, and began setting up a booth where citizens could feed on some Mana Crystals.
A signpost was hung over head with the symbol of a glowing crystal to advertise what was going on. The booth was designed to limit ten people from entering at a time.
It was a prototype model for Varrus¡¯ Mana Stone on every street corner idea.
His thought behind limiting the number of people that could feed at a time was to ensure a sense of fairness, as well as security to the process.
The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
Most Elves had scary good memory, and could remember quite a bit. By limiting the number of participants, it made it so the guards in charge could better identify the users, and prevent double dipping/overfeeding.
Everyone would be granted a limited time to feed-an average amount of 5 minutes-and the plan was to eventually hand people a time card so that they wouldn''t overcrowd the area that hosted the Mana Stones.
Limiting the number of participants, and placing the Mana Stones indoors was also a security feature, because it would prevent irate Elves from going mad with addiction.
Magic was like meth to Highborn. Many of them ¡®needed¡¯ their fix, and they needed it now.
Varrus had seen enough violence on Earth to know what kind of lengths people would go to, to satisfy their desires. The real kicker too, was that much like an alcoholic suddenly going 100% cold turkey, for an Elf, stopping the tap meant death.
If he was being honest with himself, not even he was immune to the heedy rush of mana pulsing through his body.
It had only been six days since he transmigrated, yet he always got a bit of a buzz every time he consumed a Mana Stone.
He was slowly becoming addicted himself, and knew that if he didn''t keep consuming mana, he would turn into a grotesque vampire that would feed on his own wife.
Like hell he would ever let that happen!
So Varrus couldn''t really hold back on supplying mana even if he wanted to. From a certain point of view, if it weren''t for Varrus, the Highborn would search out other sources, like Fel magic.
That was some green goop that made Sargeras-the literal manifestation of order, and greatest warrior in the galaxy-to transform into a mental lunatic.
So while Varrus felt a little guilty, he was fine being a hypocrite since there was no viable alternative.
Eventually, he hoped to place these Mana Stones on every street corner in a building that blocked magical sight, otherwise every Elf and their grandma would be eyeing these Master tier, boulder sized Mana Stones like free money for the taking.
He hoped to implement a bounty system where people could perform beneficial deeds such as: killing Undead, Gnolls or other pests, and/or repair/create buildings/potions/gear and then show their merits for extra time at the Mana Stone.
That way, Varrus could turn their addiction towards some positives for society.
Way later down the line, once he had made some allies with other nations, Varrus hoped to transform that bounty system into something like an adventurers guild.
It was a cliche institution in fantasy worlds, but Warcraft was the OG world incorporating guilds, and was rife with quests for the taking.
Adventurers were 100% lore accurate in-verse, and personally, Varrus would rather be the person issuing the quest, than grinding in some hot desert or dangerous jungle hunting for some flowers.
There were many independent minded people who were talented individuals, but they hated being under others. On Earth, Varrus knew for a fact there were tons of people who would excel in the military, or in government agencies, but said ¡®to hell with that.¡¯
He only needed to take House Vandercross as an example of that mentality. Varrus had personally saved thousands, and indirectly saved tens of thousands through his actions.
Yet despite the security, pay, and loot, less than 500 people signed on with him.
So starting up guilds to outsource his problems would be just part of his plan to help maintain order. People would have the freedom to accept dangerous, life threatening missions, and in return, Varrus would supply them with coin and magical items. His enemies would perish, and the realm would be safer. It was a win-win scenario.
Because Varrus was well aware of how hectic the future was. Even now, the timeline was messed up since the Trolls were supposed to die in a tsunami created by the Sunwell. If something this disastrous could occur, then anything was possible.
Which is why Varrus had to prepare for the worst. Establishing guilds, and setting up these charging stations where Elves could feed on mana were but a few of his preparations.
In fact, Varrus already noticed a few hundred wandering Highborn ¡®discreetly¡¯ eyeing his stall.
Their hunger was as transparent as a teenage boy crushing hard for the first time on a girl he liked.
Varrus chuckled, and waved his hand towards his subordinates, giving the go ahead.
It didn''t take long for the venue to become crowded, so Varrus left with his wife to get some air.
Rho''dan followed a few steps behind for safety reasons, but Varrus paid him no mind. At this point, he was accustomed to the guard, and given his recent brushes with death, actually preferred having the silent, stoic man in his presence.
What he didn''t appreciate, however, were Syra¡¯s followers tagging along. The future members of the Illidari Council were a comfort, knowing they were there to protect his wife, but the assholes kept chattering about how awesome and badass Syra was! They should take a page out of Rho¡¯dan¡¯s book, and learn when to shut it! Can¡¯t a man walk hand in hand with his wife down the boulevard without hearing the peanut gallery?!
Just listening to them made Varrus wonder if they were infected by the same kool-aid that Koren had drunk from.
¡°Did you see the way Lady Syra eviscerated the Loa? Simply magical.¡±
¡°Nonsense! I blocked an arrow headed for her back, I almost died to save her life!¡±
¡°No I-¡±
On and on they went, it felt like Varrus had met a new girl, and she brought her dogs to come live with him. He, and his own dog liked to chill out and live in peace, but the girlfriend''s dog was a little yappy dog that tried to fight all the time.
If those goobers weren''t Raid Bosses that genuinely seemed to idolize his wife!...Damn!
While Varrus silently stewed, Syra merely glanced over her shoulder, and the peanut gallery instantly muted themselves.
Looking at his wife¡¯s seemingly innocent face, Varrus privately thought to himself ¡®is it possible to learn such power?¡¯
Syra flashed him a haughty, evil smile that seemed to say ¡®not from a man.¡¯
She then grabbed him by the arm, and tightly pulled him further into the city.
Strolling down the boulevard with Syra hand in hand, Varrus finally took in the sights. Most of the Eastern Capital had remained intact, and it was truly beautiful. Silvermoon was like nothing on Earth. The architecture was all curves, the streets were wide, and the ambiance projected calming peace.
The funeral was planned for sunset, and it was nearing noon now. People were hard at work cleaning up the streets, and hanging up decorations.
Phoenixs, stars, and flowers symbolizing rebirth were the main theme.
Passing by a stall serving free food, Varrus felt the tug on his arm, and stopped to pick up some candied apples on a stick.
Varrus munched on his apple, and almost choked when Syra couldn''t get her mouth open wide enough, and got caramel on both her nose and cheek.
Leaning over, Varrus tried to kiss her/lick it off, but to his surprise, she forcefully pushed his head away.
Question marks were appearing over Varrus¡¯ head as he looked at her quizzically. She had done tons of stuff to him in public, what was the big deal?
Seeing the red tinting her ear tips as she desperately looked around for a napkin was simply adorkable.
¡®Yep, this is my wife. Lady can slice rotting corpses in half like nothing, but getting some food on her face in public is what sets her off.¡¯ Varrus silently chuckled to himself until a set of sharp nails digging into his palms had him pause.
¡°Ah. Ha. Ha. Here, let me get that for you, Syra.¡± Varrus weakly smiled, and cast a cleanse spell on her.
Varrus leaned down for a kiss, but instead, his wife released his hand, and walked a few steps ahead of him.
¡®Silly woman.¡¯ Varrus shook his head, and chuckled at her antics.
Following a step behind, Varrus accepted a pamphlet from a passing Elf, and read up on the funeral plans.
A procession was to be held from Silvermoon''s main entrance, pass through the Walk of Elders, The Royal Exchange, Farstrider Square, and culminate in the entrance to the Court of the Sun. There, citizens would be free to speak, and publicly mourn their loss, speak of their family and friends, then wrap things up from Prince Kael¡¯Thas, as well as an announcement from the First Seat of the Convocation of Silvermoon, Varrus Vandercross.
While he walked, he felt a malevolent force in the air, and looked up, only to stumble into Syra''s back.
Despite her petite frame, she was solid, and immovable like the mountain.
Looking up from his pamphlet, Varrus saw what had his wife so worked up.
It was a seemingly drunk Thaladred the Darkener. His black armor was still filthy with the blood of Trolls, and his walk cycle had him moving in a stupor.
Syra turned to him, and flashed a feral grin.
Varrus wanted to take a step back, but was caught in her grasp.
¡°I''ll handle Thaladred, he won''t ruin your plans for this evening, you have my word.¡± She leaned in close to his ear to whisper.
Varrus wordlessly nodded in thanks, then leaned down to kiss her on the lips.
¡°Good luck convincing Lor''Themar, my love. I know you''ll succeed.¡± Syra softly said, then strut away towards Thaladred.
Watching her practically drag the war hero towards a darkened alleyway, Varrus munched on his candied apple, and whistled a cheery tune.
¡®Nothing to see here officer, I''m no snitch!¡¯ Varrus thought to himself as he made his way toward Lor''Themar''s office in Farstrider Square.
Chapter 27
While Varrus made his way toward Lor''Themar''s office, he thought about what exactly the Convocation of Silvermoon was all about as a governmental entity.
Having briefly read up on it, and comparing the knowledge he inherited, he thought he had a decent idea on how the government in Quel''Thalas worked.
Essentially, the Covenant was in charge of most things civil, including the introduction of laws, taxes, etc. These things were then signed off on, or vetoed by the executive power, in this case, Prince Kael¡¯Thas.
There was a whole system involving vetoes, and if neither side could come to an agreement, an assembly of the wise would convene, and help mediate/determine the outcome.
It was that same group of elders known as ¡®the wise¡¯ that gathered yesterday to discuss the Troll incursion.
The Convocation also oversaw all funding for special works, groups, and the Royal Institutions.
They were dubbed the Royal Institutions because they were under the direct purview of the reigning monarch.
The three most famous of these organizations were the Rangers, Magisters, and Church of Holy Light.
While the Convocation could not order any of these institutions directly, they could exert soft power over them. Among these powers, the Convocation completely controlled the King¡¯s purse, and had to approve of any formal declaration of war, or be involved in any diplomatic mission in some capacity. They also approved or disapproved of every single officer¡¯s promotion.
A core example of this promotional power coming into play would be Halduron Brightwing. The Ranger Captain said he had owed Varrus¡¯ father, because without his father pulling for him, Halduron would likely get passed over on someone else¡¯ special interest pick. The politics were messy, but this was how the Convocation shared power with the monarchy.
Additionally, the Convocation also oversaw the judicial system. Crime was rather rare, and given the Highborn''s small population, the Convocation acted as both the legislative and judicial branches in Quel¡¯Thalas. They had a small military force directly loyal to them charged with safeguarding the Sunwell, and keeping the peace in Silvermoon. From what Varrus could remember, they were called the Sunguard, and were heated rivals with the Royal Guard as these two institutions were the only ones allowed to train in the secret arts of spellbreaking.
Within the judiciary, most common crimes were judged by the Convocation. However, if the accused was a noble, officer, or popular individual, then it wasn¡¯t uncommon for the King to sit on the bench as a judge.
The Convocation''s seat of government was located within the Sunwell Plateau on the island of Quel¡¯Danas just north of Silvermoon. There, they participated in baptisms within the Sunwell-to attune babies to the Sunwell''s energies-and besides the monarch, were the only Elves with unrestricted access to the font of limitless magical power.
In game, the Sunwell was a relatively simple, giant pool of water. However, in reality, it sat upon an island roughly half the size of Ireland.
A crown jewel amongst Highborn culture, colleges of crafts, music and the arts dotted the island, making it a hub for smug Elf high society.
Being a member of the Convocation wasn''t all about showing off, petty politics, and baptisms, however. There were some serious responsibilities tied to the position.
They were responsible for harnessing the Sunwell''s power in times of war, act as liaisons with allied nations during crises, and were expected to take command of battlefronts.
In fact, the previous incarnation of the Convocation were guarding over the Sunwell when the Scourge attacked. As a councilor, it would be Varrus¡¯ duty to be the first line of defense against the countless creatures seeking the unfathomable power of the Sunwell.
During a campaign, councilors advised the King, could vote for peace, ratify treaties, or act as high level ambassadors to show Quel''Thalas¡¯ seriousness on the matter.
Lastly, was Varrus¡¯ title of ¡®First Seat.¡¯ As the self professed and begrudgingly acknowledged singular member of the Convocation, he held the leadership position, same as his father before him.
The First Seat position essentially made him the face of the organization, and allowed him a few small extra privileges. It was somewhat similar to how the leader of a political party had some sway over their own members
Varrus didn''t have much time to communicate with Kael about it, but given the unconventional circumstances governing their country at the moment, Varrus had been given free reign to fill the remaining six seats, within reason that is.
He was to pick those Heroes who he thought contributed the most to Silvermoon, and would create the least amount of controversy as possible to keep the transition between administrations as smooth and peaceable as possible. The last thing either of them wanted was the wise leading a revolt against these two ¡®young and arrogant youths.¡¯
Had Sanguinar remained alive, Varrus had no doubt this ploy would be hotly contested, and Varrus would have to bitterly fight for every candidate.
Immoral as it was, Varrus supposed he should be thanking his wife for wacking his political rival.
It was a thought that left him sick to think about, as Sanguinar had never actually threatened his life, and possibly would¡¯ve made for a great fellow policy maker on the Convocation. But what was done was done, and Varrus was free to choose any six councilors to create a new Convocation.
The six he had in mind were:
Koren
Lady Liadran
Thaladred
Telonicus
Tae''thelon
Lor''Themar.
Ultimately, they were six safe picks, that is, with the exception of Koren due to his young age.
He chose these six for their connections, and personal power.
Each and every one of them was already in control of a faction, meaning that should the Convocation make a decision, the members of those factions should theoretically respect the councilors of the Convocation, and follow orders.
Koren was a simple pick for Varrus. The guy was bonkers, killing his own dad like that, but given the line up of councilors he had in mind, none of them were personally loyal to him. Each had goals and factions within the heart of Silvermoon. Koren on the other hand was a political outsider. His power base was located on Sunstrider Island, a small location roughly the size of Rhode Island, it was tucked away in the north western section of Silvermoon, and survived the Scourge invasion 100% intact. Furthermore, due to the sour rumors of his father and the murky origins of dragonhawks, Koren had no friends in high places. Perhaps King Anastarian had appreciated Koren¡¯s family, but that connection had recently been severed.
Koren was a devoted sycophant with the power of a Hero. Leading a paramilitary organization outside any official jurisdiction, much like House Vandercross, he controlled the only reliable means of flight within all of Silvermoon.
Frankly speaking, Varrus wanted one ally on the Convocation, and Koren was the obvious pick. The guy was young, like him, and had the balls to charge right up to Kith''ix''s face, and lance him in the eye. The dude wasn''t as strong as his wife, but he had courage, and was a badass. In fact, he¡¯d have to give his condolences to Koren for his lost mount when he saw him later in the evening.
Of course, Varrus could¡¯ve gone with another pick if he wanted two teammates on the Convocation, but he opted to avoid her. His other ¡®viable¡¯ ally, if you could call her that, was his mother-in-law. Faedra checked all the same boxes as Koren-minus the sycophantic part-but Varrus was afraid she would cause more harm than good.
As amusing as Faedra roasting thousand year old Elves on the daily would be to see, Varrus had enough of that as it was simply living his day to day life. So Faedra was off his short list, and would only act as a backup if someone backed out.
The next councilor Varrus had in mind was Lady Liadran. She was a priestess turned paladin, and was widely respected amongst the faith.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.
Powerful and sexy, she was surprisingly the only lady to make the cut. It wasn¡¯t that Varrus didn¡¯t want more women on the Convocation, it¡¯s that there were hardly any High Elves of any note that were female. Of course, he could always try and wrangle up one of the Windrunner sisters, but the thought of one of them leading the government alongside him made him want to vomit. They were all strong, impactful characters, but if Varrus were being entirely honest with himself, he did not want such volatile characters around him.
For one he didn¡¯t want to be seen next to such beautiful women, lest his wife get some crazy idea. Secondly, the Windrunners were absolutely bonkers. Sylvannas was revenge obsessed, and lost her mind after the events of WOTLK. Alleria was afk in some time portal fighting demons for 1,000 years and somehow became a Void Elf in that time. The last sister, Vereesa took part in murdering every Blood Elf loyal to the Horde in Dalaran in a future expansion, and openly rebelled against the legitimate government. Yeah, Varrus wasn¡¯t exactly in a hurry to recruit any of these headstrong ladies.
So Lady Liadran became one of his top picks as a member of the Convocation, and would serve as the representative for the religious amongst the High Elves.
Moving on, Thaladred was surprisingly, actually one of his picks. A male addonas, he was the perfect High Elf warrior, and a bit of a meat head. Varrus wanted to show the rest of Highborn society that he could work with political adversaries, and stave off any whispers of Sanguinar''s suspicious death.
From what he could gather, Thaladred was well respected for his martial prowess, and before he had been defeated by his wife, had been an undefeated duelist for a century.
He was quite popular for bold statements, and being a rampant monarchist. Thaladred would be the perfect loudmouth that could say things a young Elf tied to the name Vandercross could never get away with.
However, Varrus was reconsidering the recruitment, given Thaladred¡¯s apparent mental instability, but for now, he would trust in his wife¡¯s capabilities. If she could act as his handler, much as Sanguinar had, Varrus would have three confirmed votes in his pocket.
Besides, for appearances sake, having a warrior on the Convocation was a must, and there weren''t many choices given most Heroes were mages.
Next on his list was somewhat of a two parter, and he always got their names swapped in his head, they were Telonicus and Tae''thelon.
Now, Telonicus was the Elf who encased himself in all black plate armor-similar to Thaladred-and was the Master Engineer to Kael¡¯Thas in Outland.
The dude was an absolute Einstein who invented all sorts of insane mageotech. One of his most impressive inventions was a giant mecha known as the Void Reaver. He also modified/created every single boss in the Mechanar, a segment of the Tempest Keep raid.
Staunchly loyal to Kael¡¯Thas, he would be a safe pick that the royalists could not complain against. Furthermore, his introduction of cannons at the beach battle had shown his capabilities to the rest of the Heroes. There should be no qualms with his approval.
Tae''thelon meanwhile, was Telonicus¡¯ intellectual rival, and for years headed up the most premier magic school in all of Quel''Thalas before founding the Reliquary.
A researcher who enjoyed schmoozing with high society, Varrus had many memories of this man attending his father''s social functions. Always politely asking for funding, and astounding guests with ancient trivia, he was seen as a harmless educator.
Little did most casual Elves know that Tae''thelon held more knowledge about Azeroth than anyone else. Varrus knew he would need his big brain to combat the Old Gods, and the Legion.
While he had some reservations about the well connected school teacher-and wouldn''t have minded keeping Tae''thelon out of the Convocation-Varrus needed a counter balance to Telonicus.
By pitting the two against one another, Varrus could act as mediator, and benefit from either side.
Tae''thelon was an interesting character. One Varrus would hesitate to call an ally, or even friend. Perhaps political animal best defined him.
From what Varrus could tell, Tae''thelon was more in tune with the great game than the rest of his picks, so he would have to keep a close eye on him.
Saving the most influential for last, Lor''Themar at this point, was the most famous High Elf alive. Compared to Kael¡¯Thas-who by Elf standards was practically a teen who spent half his life outside of Quel''Thalas and mired in political controversy-Lor''Themar had been an exemplary Ranger his whole life.
In canon, Kael returned to Silvermoon from his journey to Outland as a traitor. A traitor who attempted to seize the Sunwell for the demons, and summon the third most terrifying leader of the Burning Legion, Kil¡¯Jaiden. Yet Lor''Themar-and by proxy, the majority of the Blood Elves-stood against the rogue Prince, proving that they valued Lor¡¯Themar over Kael¡¯Thas at that point in time. The people trusted in Lor¡¯Themar to protect them, and the old Elf would act as the glue that would bind the Convocation together. .
For all of Varrus¡¯ gripes against Lor''Themar''s failed trust in Dar''Khan Drathir, Varrus thought he would make for a decent leader.
As a calm and collected figure, Lor''Themar exuded dignity.
It also didn''t hurt that he was the Elf responsible for saving this entire half of Silvermoon-saving tens of thousands of lives in the process-Lor''Themar was that guy in the eyes of many.
Convincing Lor''Themar to join was more important than any other member so far.
With the veteran Ranger onboard, the newest generation of the Convocation would be branded as a legitimate successor to their predecessors.
Simple as that.
Varrus was excited at the thought of this new organization! He hoped that the conflict of ideas from people of different backgrounds would be beneficial for the Convocation.
So far, the people on his short list brought the expertise that come with youth, age, war, science, religion, and old nobility.
It was an eclectic sort that didn''t all answer directly to him. Varrus was excited to head such a body. As First Seat, he would have to corral these conflicting personalities, and help shape the nation.
Taking a deep breath, Varrus squared his shoulders, and began to walk with confidence.
Varrus had long finished his candied apple by this point, and tossed it into a nearby waste bin as he made his way into the depths of Farstrider Square.
Rangers were coming and going all around him, and a sense of urgent professionalism suffused the air.
Following several sign posts, Varrus took a few turns before he came across a pair of giant oak double doors.
The doors were so cartoonishly wide, you would only find doors like these in WoW. They were big enough, Varrus could stack himself twice to fit to the top, and fair times across.
¡°Highlord Varrus Vandercross, the Ranger General thought you might be here. He has yet to transfer into Sylvannas¡¯ office due to a lack of time. If you¡¯ll follow me?¡± Halduron Brightwing said, emerging from a hallway behind Varrus, then gestured in a direction to walk towards.
Varrus was a little nervous due to the upcoming meeting, and he almost jumped at the sudden voice from behind.
Turning around, he beheld a blonde haired Elf carrying himself with confidence, and poise. When Varrus peered at his half-smiling, he was reminded of a predator ready to strike its prey.
Silently nodding in ascent, Varrus followed next to Halduron.
They moved quietly for a while, before stopping outside a training hall. Looking through some glass windows, Varrus saw Lor''Themar sweating up a storm as he pushed himself to the limit inside.
He felt some nervousness well up inside of him as he pondered how exactly he was to convince this ancient Elf to join his side. This was it. Recruiting Lor''Themar would determine if the Convocation would sink, or swim.
Rolling his shoulders to get rid of any discomfort, Varrus couldn''t help but laugh at himself. He was more like his wife than he cared to admit. Facing down zombies, Trolls and Old God minions terrified him, but he fought through the fear. Yet a high level meeting had him feeling jittery?
¡°Ha!¡± Varrus shook his head from the silly thought.
¡°Something amuses you, Highlord?¡± Halduron raised an eyebrow in question.
Varrus paused for a beat, then cast Muffle around then, silencing any prying ears. Rho''dan, meanwhile, took a step away, and guarded against any would be eavesdroppers.
¡°Nothing much, Captain Brightwing. I simply find your timing fortuitous is all. My father pushed for your promotions throughout the years, and it seems I am to follow in his footsteps.¡± Varrus smiled, and placed his hands behind his back like some stereotypical pompous officer that was inspecting the troops.
Halduron paused, then looked over his shoulder with a critical look.
¡°You speak truth, Highlord? I know you have contacts with Murder Row given your father¡¯s connections. My means of promotion last time was under heavy scrutiny due to how¡messy it was. While I appreciate the offer, removing Lor''Themar at this point would be, how do I say, ill advised. Give it a decade, and I will let you know my answer then.¡± Halduron covered his mouth while he spoke.
Varrus awkwardly smiled in response to Halduron¡¯s bold reply.
The corner of his lips twitched from this dumpster truck load of information. He knew Halduron owed his father, but this, this was more than he had bargained for!
He almost wanted to slap Halduron upside the head for suggesting they murder Lor''Themar. Varrus had his reservations about the Ranger General, but that didn''t mean he wanted him killed!
¡°There are more than one way to move up the ladder, my friend. You¡¯re so focused on pulling down, have you ever considered pushing up?¡± Varrus composed himself, then patted Halduron on the shoulder in a friendly gesture.
It took only a second for realization to spread across Halduron¡¯s face.
¡°The Convocation, of course! It¡¯s genius, why didn¡¯t I think of that!¡± Halduron said to himself, looking at the ceiling, then turned an intense gaze upon Varrus.
¡°But Lor''Themar hates politics. How ever will you convince him?¡± Halduron questioned, the zeal leaving his voice.
¡°Do not worry, Ranger General. Await the Convocations announcement at the end of the funerary ceremony for the good news.¡± Varrus smiled conspiratorially, then stepped past Halduron, breaking the Muffle.
¡°I look forward to the good news, Highlord.¡± Halduron saluted.
The smile on Varrus¡¯ face dropped as soon as he turned around.
How the hell was he going to convince Lor''Themar to join him?!
Chapter 28
Entering the training ground, Varrus witnessed a powerful, shirtless Lor''Themar twist in midair, dodging three arrows, and then jump over a contraption blasting a jet of flames.
Twirling his twin swords, Lor''Themar flung one into an approaching golem, piercing through its armor, and into the core.
Wielding his remaining sword in both hands, he fought off a man-sized arcane elemental, clashing again and again with its claws of pure energy.
A claw raked a heavy gash across Lor''Themar''s shoulder, but his sword cleaved into the elemental, diminishing its size by half.
¡°Return, An''zoth, we shall train another day.¡± Lor''Themar said between heavy breaths.
The pale-white elemental bowed, then was sucked into an amulet, like a ghost from Luigi¡¯s Mansion was sucked into a vacuum cleaner.
¡°Is now a bad time?¡± Varrus asked, slightly shocked at Lor''Themar''s wounded state.
¡°Yes, it is, and yes, you can stay. I can see the distress in your eyes, ha! I have you to thank for this.¡± Lor''Themar casually pointed his thumb at the claw-like gashes on his shoulder.
¡°My apologies for interrupting your training, if I knew it would lead to injury, I could¡¯ve waited a few more minutes-¡± Varrus got out, but was waved off by the older Elf.
¡°You need not worry yourself over that. What I¡¯m talking about, is this.¡± Lor''Themar pointed at his eye. ¡°Adjusting to the balance has been¡an experience.¡± Lor''Themar chuckled to himself as he looked at the blood dripping onto the floor.
¡°Well, I still feel guilty for your wound, let me get that for you.¡± Varrus raised his arms, Healing Hands ready to be unleashed, but he was waved off.
¡°Nonsense, I earned this fair and square. Besides, I never cared to be healed by magic. I could''ve had this eye replaced at any time. I chose not to, to remind myself of my failure. A failure that almost cost us everything yesterday.¡± Lor''Themar intoned seriously.
¡°Now if you''ll excuse me for a moment, I have some salve lying around here, I shall return in but a moment.¡± Lor''Themar said, then went into a side cabinet, and rummaged for a shimmering bottle of liquid.
Varrus nodded his head in ascent, then got to thinking about the other day. The battle with the Trolls had been wild. Varrus was thankful they were seriously lacking in powerful Heroes. But that didn''t mean the fight was easy. Varrus had his shields broken, and Lor''Themar almost died.
The belief that his enchantments put him on a tier just below the Aspects had led him to believe in his own hype.
Swallowing a thick glob of saliva, Varrus chuckled at the Ranger General.
Here he was, training his heart out to be the very best. 5 days ago, the entire kingdom of Quel''Thalas suffered like never before. Then yesterday, they fought off the largest Amani assault in a thousand years. It was a battle in which Lor''Themar was willing to take himself out to ensure the Troll defeat.
Lor''Themar¡¯s dedication towards mastering himself was admirable.
Returning with a salve coated towel pressed to his shoulder, Lor''Themar took a seat on a stool, and gestured towards another stool resting by the wall.
Varrus¡¯ attention was drawn towards the floor while he retrieved the stool. On it, he noticed deep rivulets of dried blood all over the place, hinting at years, possibly centuries of brutal training.
He wondered about Lor''Themar¡¯s gripe about healing magic. The elder was still shirtless, and his skin was smooth as a babies. Had Varrus¡¯ intense healing done away with Lor''Themar¡¯s reminders of failure? And, in fact, were those scars something he used to define his own character? It would be risky, but perhaps he could spin this in his favor.
¡°Scars are a harsh lesson, that I can agree upon. However, there comes a time when the weight of those scars can burden those who care about us. Many people-such as yourself-stand stronger for these defining traits. I apologize for taking part in erasing your hard fought lessons, but I am not sorry for giving you a clean slate.¡± Varrus said as he roughly sat down in his stool.
¡°You are young, Highlord. I have great hopes for your future success, but I do not expect you to understand my woes. They are mine alone to bear.¡± Lor''Themar tiredly replied.
¡°Your commitment to bettering yourself is commendable. I never knew much about you, Lor''Themar, but I am beginning to understand why you are so well respected. Right now, the entire city of Silvermoon relies upon you for security, you do not have to carry this weight on your own.¡± Varrus said gently.
¡°Ah, I''m simply doing my part for my country, same as any Elf, same as you, Highlord Vandercross. The way you held the left flank by yourself, I thought you were mad, dead for certain. That took guts, young Vandercross. I think you have growing to do, but I look forward to working with you as Ranger General.¡± Lor''Themar said, bowing his head.
Varrus wanted to frown at that response. That was not what he had wanted at all!
All this prancing around was going nowhere.
Varrus thought about what Faedra said, about Lor''Themar being the old Windrunner matriarch''s boy toy. Was her info even accurate, or a ruse?
Was Lor''Themar secretly the Windrunner girls father? Could Varrus utilize this connection between them to communicate with Lor''Themar that his children were still alive, and tell him where they are at?
But when he remembered cutscenes from WoW, it seemed that Lor''Themar was quite cold with the girls, and had Alleria Windrunner exiled for dabbling in Void magic and endangering the Sunwell.
This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.
He especially had an antagonistic relationship with Sylvannas. She had threatened him along with all of Quel''Thalas, that if they did not aid her in attacking Northrend, and the Scourge, she would sack Silvermoon with the Forsaken.
Even if they were his daughters or not, his canonical actions told Varrus one thing. Lor''Themar valued Quel''Thalas. He was a patriot who loved his country more than anything else, even his family.
The fact he was willing to immolate himself, and experience one of the most painful deaths ever to take out the Amani chieftain spoke volumes of his character and resolve.
No, veiled threats or mentions of rescuing Lor¡¯Themar¡¯s "possible" loved ones wouldn''t work with this one.
If Varrus wanted Lor''Themar on his side, he would have to be direct.
Varrus took a deep breath, firmed his resolve and looked the Ranger General in the eyes.
¡°Lor''Themar Theron, you read my letter, you know I want you on the Convocation of Silvermoon, but you remain insistent on maintaining your position as Ranger General, why?¡±
Lor''Themar looked off into the distance with a thousand yard stare, and remained silent for more than a minute. He then picked up one of his swords, and began to sharpen it with a nearby sharpening stone.
The steady scrape, scrape scrape of the coarse stone on his sword grated Varrus¡¯ keen sense of hearing, yet he awaited Lor''Themar¡¯s reply with bated breath.
¡®Alright old man, you want to sit here and do nothing, wasting my time?! Then two can play at that game!¡¯
The silence grew so annoying, that Varrus retrieved a sword of his own, and began to slowly mimic Lor''Themar¡¯s actions.
He was a little worried he might cut himself, that an injury due to sharpening his own blade wouldn''t count as an attack, and Ebony Flesh would not trigger-like his wife''s nails-but he convinced himself that the vitality enchantments on his robes would keep him safe.
Eventually, Lor''Themar spoke after what felt like an aeon.
¡°I have served in the Rangers for over 3,000 years. Every decade, I would hone my blade on the flesh of our enemies so it would never dull. So I would always be prepared. Then the day came when we lost everything, and I found that despite all my efforts, I was nothing. I was meant to die that day, by my King''s side, but he had commanded me to hold the city, whatever the cost. I followed his command to the letter.¡± Lor¡¯Themar spoke wistfully, pausing in his sharpening to hold the blade up, and feel its balance before resuming in his craft.
¡°That day, I bore a scar, not one of the flesh, but to the heart. As I said, young Vandercross, they are my woes to bear. I would serve as Ranger General to right my wrong. To atone for my failure, and secure our shared future. That. Highlord, is why I insist upon staying with the Rangers.¡±
Varrus closed his eyes for a moment in frustration. Fine, the direct way was out then! Time for some hail mary improvised bullshit.
¡°Do you know why I am so insistent that you join the Convocation?¡± Varrus said, leaning forward.
¡°Isn''t it that you want to capitalize on my fame? I may be a political novice, Highlord, but I am not so young that I cannot see that.¡± Lor''Themar chided with a small smirk.
¡°Admittedly, that is one reason, but I know something you do not. I know that my best friend, Prince Kael¡¯Thas intends to name you, Lor''Themar, as Regent Lord of Quel''Thalas!¡± Varrus smiled savagely as he saw the Ranger General pause in his sharpening.
¡°I am inclined to call you out on that as a lie, but something in that vicious smirk of yours tells me otherwise.¡± Lor''Themar sighed, and placed a hand against his forehead.
¡°Oh, it''s true alright. The Prince intends to take the most revenge obsessed of our kind-around 15% of the remaining population-and launch a crusade on the Undead stationed in Lordaeron, ignoring the Dead Scar, and the thousands of zombies roaming our land. He then intends to scour all of Azeroth for a cure towards our magical addiction.¡± Varrus spread his hands as if Kael¡¯s course of actions were already set in stone, and there was nothing to be done.
¡°He intends to leave me acting in his stead? This is madness, I am not fit for the role!¡± Lor''Themar stood up from his stool, and began to pace with his sword in hand.
¡°Which is why I need your help to convince him otherwise. By joining the Convocation, you will act as a stabilizing force for all of Quel''Thalas. In our official capacity as councilors, we can help the Prince see reason.¡± Varrus smiled at Lor''Themar''s back.
Varrus was close, Lor''Themar was teetering on the ropes.
¡°I am half convinced. What you say. It is unthinkable of Prince Kael¡¯Thas to abandon his country when it has need of him most.¡± Lor''Themar said, and began to furiously swipe his blade in a series of fluid, and beautiful arcs.
His sword whistled through the air as it chopped into, and stabbed at a magically reinforced training post.
¡°Believe me, Ranger General, I was shocked when I learned of the news myself. No offense, but I would rather have him at the helm than you.¡± Varrus said tentatively, as he watched the older Elf work up a sweat.
¡°Ha! Bold words, Highlord. Should we work together as equals, I would hope such candid thoughts do not remain hidden behind a glib tongue!¡± Lor''Themar barked between heavy breaths as he exerted himself.
¡°Join the Convocation, Lor''Themar. Not only for Prince Kael¡¯s sake, but for the stability and sake of the country.¡± Varrus entreated.
¡°I trusted you to hold the left flank yesterday, I trusted you when you dismissed the army to fight that creature. I want to trust you once more, but this meeting has refreshed my opinion of you once again. No mere playboy could accomplish what you have. You fooled us all, and saved countless lives. I truly do not know what to make of you.¡± Lor''Themar chuckled as he stopped what he was doing, and approached Varrus.
Muscular for an Elf, Lor''Themar stood a head taller than Varrus, and stood within three feet of him, looking him in the eye.
¡°I see that the blood of Vandercross flows freely through your veins, you may not act like your father, but you are certainly his son. If you want me to join the Convocation, you are going to have to prove to me your resolve one final time. Tested in battle, you were exemplary. Rescuing the people, you were compassionate. Debating the wise, you were confident. All qualities a councilor should possess.
But you made a choice today, Varrus Vandercross. You dared draw a sword in my training ground, and I intend to test your mettle. Here, replace those training robes with a set of trainees garb. Fancy gear will not win you this match.¡± Lor''Themar said, opening a cabinet, then tossing a pair of pants at Varrus.
Hesitating for a moment, Varrus figured he almost had the old man convinced. He fought zombies and Trolls, what was one more trial?
¡°Alright old man, you want to test my resolve? Let''s do this!¡± Varrus said, throwing his robes into his inventory, and pulling on the pair of trainees pants.
Lor''Themar twirled his sword around his body, seemingly excited for the first time in this meeting.
Varrus felt nervous, but he didn''t show it on his face. He was going to win!
However, the grin slowly spreading across Lor''Themar''s face oddly reminded Varrus of his guards as they beat Zul¡¯Jin repeatedly into a bloody pulp.
¡°Wait a minute, I need to check something with-¡± Varrus pointed over his shoulder toward the window at Rho''dan, only to be interrupted by a swish of air, and the sharp sound of a singing blade near his ear.
¡°Begin!¡±
Chapter 29
Lor''Themar came at Varrus with slow, steady strokes, yet each of them contained power and precision.
Varrus twitched, as he was accustomed to wielding a sword beyond the most rudimentary of maneuvers. He then raised his sword as he was forced to defend himself.
His wrist stung from Lor''Themar''s forceful impact, and he almost had the blade wrenched from his grasp.
¡°Is this the hidden phoenix that stunned everyone at the battle of the beach? Relax your grip, you are too tight!¡± Lor''Themar criticized.
Varrus loosened his grasp, then went on the offense, feinting a stab into a cut.
¡°Sloppy footwork, your chest is completely exposed, position yourself sideways, limiting the amount of area the enemy has to attack!¡± Lor''Themar instructed as he easily batted away Varrus¡¯ failed maneuver, then moved in close to deliver a crunching elbow into Varrus¡¯ sternum.
Feeling the air woosh out of his lungs, Varrus took a step back, and attempted to block Lor¡¯Themar¡¯s next punch, only to catch the flat end of Lor¡¯Themar¡¯s sword on his temple.
The dull pain worked Varrus up into a frenzy. Gritting his teeth, he wanted nothing more than to use his magic and blast this old man into the wall, or finger flick him with telekinesis into the wall.
Yet¡this training was actually worthwhile!
A prompt from the Skyrim UI proved that this beating was actively leveling him up. Only five minutes had past, and already his One Handed leveled from 29 -> 30. He supposed receiving training with others was a viable option to level up his skills, but he had never thought of it before. In Skyrim, the player simply paid an NPC some gold, and the skill went up.
It never crossed his mind to get his arse beaten bloody by a millenia old man to level up his skills. It was so bloody obvious. Not!
Varrus mentally complained to himself as he took a pommel to the chin, then a kick to his midsection, planting him squarely on the ground.
Wiping dirt from his chin, Varrus ran at Lor¡¯Themar with an overheaded swipe.
¡°Simply barbaric.¡± Lor¡¯Themar chided, shaking his head in disappointment.
Varrus chuckled as he dropped to his knee, and pivoted sideways so that he could elbow Lor¡¯Themar in the groin.
The elder Elf gripped the elbow, and flipped over Varrus like an acrobatic, he then twisted Varrus¡¯ arm, and kneed him in the back, planting Varrus¡¯ face into the sweat covered dirt of the training ground.
¡°Hitting below the belt, I like that. Many an Elf cares about their image, and their so-called armor. They are the ones who play pretend. If you¡¯re not fighting dirty, you¡¯re not fighting to win!¡± Lor¡¯Themar laughed from behind, then lifted Varrus up, only to toss him down like a wrestler straight out of the WWE.
Varrus summersault rolled out of the throw, and sprang to his feet. His eyes scanned the elder Elf from head to toe, cautious of his every movement.
Lor¡¯Themar lunged forward, only to halt after a foot of movement.
Varrus swiped at the air in front of him in defense, only to come up short. Realizing that the Ranger General was toying with him, Varrus rolled his eyes, and lunged at Lor¡¯Themar using his entire body like a spring so that he could travel the most distance.
The point of his sword carried a powerful momentum, and forced Lor¡¯Themar to parry the attack to the side.
They then began to trade a few hits here and there, with Lor¡¯Themar correcting the position of Varrus¡¯ blade or feet on more than one occasion. Whatever the Ranger General taught, Varrus would pick up after seeing it two or three times. Whenever he didn¡¯t understand, the repeated demonstration by Lor¡¯Themar served as a catalyst for his One Handed skill, and caused Varrus to level it up by quite a little bit. The more his skill level went up, the more Lor¡¯Themar¡¯s lesson was making sense.
After half an hour of going back and forth, Varrus was absolutely drenched in sweat from head to toe, and was regretting his meager 100 Stamina at the moment. High Elves excelled at quick, precise movements, but damn if he didn¡¯t gas fast!
¡°Good, you are improving! Your potential is terrifying! It is time to pick things up, no? Show me what you¡¯ve got Vandercross, on guard!¡± Lor''Themar praised, then at the same time dropped low, and drop kicked Varrus in the stomach.
Varrus took the hit, and summersault-rolled on his back, losing grip of his blade in the process. His momentum didn''t stop until he hit a rack containing armor.
His body didn''t hurt much given his HP was in the hundreds, but he had been hit enough times today that he was beginning to grow tired of it. .
¡°A warrior mustn''t ever release hold of his weapon, or he is lost. Pick it up.¡± Lor''Themar commanded, kicking the blade with the toe of his boot.
Claiming the sword as it fell midair, Varrus wasn''t given much time to react as Lor''Themar was upon him.
It didn''t take long for the elder Elf to begin shallowly poking and slicing at Varrus¡¯ flesh. The more he did it, the more intrigued he seemed to become.
¡°Fascinating. The ritual you conducted to harden your flesh is astounding. Even after learning of your terrifying talent, I had been going soft in fear of seriously injuring you. I can see, however, that this is unnecessary.¡± Lor''Themar said, lips twitching in an effort to control his grin.
Varrus, for his part, was not having a good time. His blade was battered aside in nearly every engagement, and he repeatedly took elbow jabs, and bare knuckle punches to the ribs.
Bruises began to accumulate on his exposed chest. Superior vitality or not, he was starting to feel the internal injuries as they accumulated.
Sweat poured from his body, dripping onto the training ground, and his pristine blonde hair was frazzled in a mess.
Varrus couldn''t do much as Lor''Themar upped the ante, and increased his speed by more than double.
Once Lor''Themar was about to actually draw blood, the automatic defense of Ebony Flesh finally registered the attack, and covered Varrus from head to toe, blocking Lor''Themar''s attack.
¡°Are you so quick to give in?¡± Lor''Themar said, disappointed.
Varrus thought about explaining himself, or reconciling somehow, but decided to own it.
This crazy old bastard was going to draw his blood! Fuck that noise!
He had practically been bending over backwards to get this guy''s approval, and to do that, he would have to let himself get beat up?
No way! Varrus appreciated Lor¡¯Themar for his guidance, but he wasn¡¯t some sensei or father figure. He was his colleague! And Varrus wasn¡¯t about to let himself get pushed around like some kid getting hazed in the gym.
¡°I am not the only one who''s mettle is being tested here, Ranger General. I may desire your participation in the Convocation, but that does not mean I am easily pushed over!¡± Varrus replied angrily, and ¡®magically¡¯ equipped his enchanted equipment from his inventory.
If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
The Restoration perk, Warrior''s Flame coated Varrus¡¯ body, bolstering his spirit, and draining Lor''Themar''s stamina at the same time.
Various perks triggered at the same time, reducing Lor''Themar''s armor rating, magic resistance, draining his mana regen, and negating any spell casting.
Lor''Themar seemed to smile for a split second, then wordlessly drew his second sword, and cut down at incredible speeds.
Varrus Blinked out of the way into the other side of the training hall, then cast Tumble Magnet.
Lor''Themar was a step away from chopping into his Ebony Flesh, but was pulled back a step, causing his swords to miss by an inch.
The man-sized magnet slowly spun in the center of the training room, constantly tugging at Lor''Themar.
Any ordinary Human would be struggling to move like he was walking in molasses. Lor''Themar, however, was moving like a character from a video game, moon jumping off the floor, and criss crossing his swords at Varrus¡¯ throat.
Casting the channeling Alteration spell, Longstride, his speed-which according to the spell text should''ve only increased by 20%-was increased by 200% due to the Spell Power enchantments on his gear.
Moving now at the same speed as Lor''Themar, Varrus was constantly chugging Mana Stones to match the consumption of Longstride.
However, the Ranger General stopped chasing him in favor of grabbing a bow off the walls, and began shooting magically enchanted arrows at him. One arrow struck the Tumble Magnet, shattering it upon impact.
During the rain of arrows, Varrus had been blindsided as one arrow was hidden in the shadow of another, and he took an arrow to the knee.
In that moment of carelessness, Varrus felt his entire shield shake.
Summoning three Frost Atronarchs in quick order, Varrus used them as temporary shields. Their large frames served to block Lor''Themar''s vision of Varrus as he thought about how he was going to safely defeat Lor''Themar within this relatively confined space.
Obviously neither of them was trying to kill one another. If that was the case, Lor''Themar would be attempting to speed blitz him even more than he already was, to prevent Varrus the 2-5 seconds it would take to cast a Master spell. And Varrus would be turtling up, blasting the ground with massive AOE spells, and destroying the entire building around him.
Each of them was trying to prove the strength of their will, yet neither was willing to give in.
Analyzing his surroundings, Varrus began to have a plan take shape in his mind.
The training room was about as big as your average high school gym + basketball court. It was mostly open, with racks full of weapons, and cabinets pressed against the wall.
Varrus looked over his spell list quickly, and a slow smile began to form on his face. He knew how he wanted this to end.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Lor''Themar hadn''t strained himself all too much, but the mana expenditure was beginning to take its toll.
Without the power of the Sunwell, or a Mana Stone in hand, he was weakening much faster than he ever had in the past.
Furthermore, young Vandercross seemed to have a spell that was constantly draining Lor¡¯Themar of his energy.
The longer this fight progressed, the more likely he would find himself gasping on his back, drained of his stamina.
Now that was an embarrassing thought.
It almost made Lor''Themar chuckle at how creative Varrus was. Sneaky like his father, and possessing the same charisma and guile, Lor''Themar didn''t want to like the kid, but Lor''Themar had to admit, young Vandercross had style.
Vandercross didn''t ask for his permission or consult with him at all when he charged head first into the Troll¡¯s left flank.
Lor''Themar hated people that broke protocol. Battlefield communication was one of the keys to success, and he had not given the lad his permission. However, the chaos of the sudden Troll invasion and his sudden elevation to battlefield commander had him give Vandercross the benefit of the doubt. Barely.
If Lor''Themar truly did join the Convocation, if he did, then he was going to have to educate this young Elf on proper tactics and strategy. To reel him in from his more bombastic, and youthful ideas. Not every High Elf was as merciful and understanding as he was.
Vandercross was young, powerful, and had already established himself a large following.
Youth and power was a very dangerous combination. If he had no one to counsel him, then Lor''Themar could imagine a world where Quel''Thalas suffered for his arrogance.
He had been young, brash, and cocky at one point. It was a phase many Highborn never grew out of¡with his father deceased, the younger male would be in need of a firm male figure in his life to guide him. Lor¡¯Themar had to find his way through life with both his parents dead. It was none too easy for him, and he could only imagine what kind of pressures were placed upon the child¡¯s back. The follies of youth were all too tempting, and Lor¡¯Themar could very easily see Vandercross fall to the dangers associated with them. .
Yes, Vandercross had great potential. Potential that was worthy of his advice.
As much as it pained him, perhaps Vandercross was right. Perhaps it was time for him to leave the old scars behind.
If sitting on that damnable council would see him reign in Silvermoon''s two most promising geniuses, then for the good of the nation, he would do what must be done.
Smirking to himself, Lor''Themar dodged an icicle from one of the elementals, and returned fire.
Shooting the last arrow stored in his quiver, Lor''Themar shattered the last ice elemental into a cloud of white dust.
The boy Vandercross had been summoning them three at a time for the last two minutes in some bid to buy time.
Lor''Themar was curious what Vandercross¡¯ ploy would be. However, that didn''t mean he would be content to sit still and snipe the elementals. This was a trial after all.
Advancing forward, Lor''Themar attuned his mana to his bow, and began shooting arrows made of pure mana. With every shot he took, he would scan the area for any hint of movement, or to see if he could peer past the ice elementals, and lock onto the mana permeating Veandercross'' body with his mana sight.
As he drew close, Lor''Themar dropped his bow, and swept the frosty cloud that the ice elemental created upon death away with a sweep of his sword.
Ears twitching, Lor''Themar heard a set of footsteps, and based upon thousands of years of honed instincts, reacted instantaneously.
Swishing towards his back, he swiped downward with his twin blades, leaving a large furrow in the ground.
While cracks formed all around his feat, the enemy was nowhere in sight.
Steadying himself, and straining his ears, Lor''Themar¡¯s muscles were taught as he prepared to move at a moment''s notice.
The tell tale crack of teleportong sounded from behind, forcing him to spin once again to meet an attack.
At this close of a range, Lor''Themar shoved his enchanted swords forward, almost completely piercing through the boy¡¯s magical shields.
He was stunned by their sturdiness, but felt that if he attacked fast enough in the span of 5 seconds, he could overwhelm them, and attack Vandercross directly.
However, Lor''Themar was never given that opportunity as the last thing he saw was a bright, green flash of light.
Taking the blast to the center of his chest, Lor''Themar lamented that his magically protective amulet had lost most of its charge in the fight with Zul¡¯Jin.
Lor''Themar felt his muscles seize upon impact of the spell, then he slowly tumbled over, like a felled tree.
¡°Timber!¡± Varrus said while holding his hand up to his mouth.
When Lor''Themar face planted onto the sweaty, ruined floor of the training ground, he heard the all too familiar sound of a magic orb taking a picture.
¡°I¡¯ll announce the good news at the funeral later today.¡± Varrus clapped his hands, then walked away to open the door.
¡°Should we help him get up, or heal him, Highlord?¡± Rho''dan said as he peered into the room.
¡°No amount of healing salve is going to fix that one, my friend. Besides, our Ranger General likes scars, according to him, it builds character. Come Rho''dan, I have a surprise in store for the good people of Silvermoon, and I require the aid of Grand Magister Rommath.¡± Varrus chuckled as he walked away.
¡°Yes, Highlord!¡± Rho''dan saluted, then closed the door behind him.
Lor''Themar wanted to blink his eyes, shout or jump to his feet, yet the paralysis spell was too strong, and he couldn''t move whatsoever.
All that came out of his mouth was a muffled chuckle.
He couldn''t remember the last time someone had pranked him this good! Ah, to be young again.
Yes, Vandercross had much to learn, but there was potential for greatness.
The first lesson Lor''Themar would teach him was thus: never prank an Elf who served with the military for 3,000 years.
Experience would be the lad''s best teacher, Lor''Themar thought to himself as his paralyzed lips twitched into a small grin.
Chapter 30
Meanwhile, in the dark recesses of an alleyway, Thaladred the Darkener was enduring the strangest day of his life.
Sitting across from him at a well decorated table was the girl who defeated him in a duel.
The girl who humiliated him in front of all of his peers, and the girl who won all the glory for the victory at the docks!
It was his first defeat in a century, and he lost to a child not even a hundred years old. It made him want to go crazy with rage, flip the table, and storm out of here.
However, Thaladred felt a chill on his spine seeing the tiny whelp innocently smiling at him.
Just looking at her like that put him on edge.
The visions he experienced the other day, the blood of his best friend coating his hands. It was nightmarish!
He had no proof, but he highly suspected her of foul play, but he had no evidence that it wasn''t ¡®voodoo magic¡¯ as she had claimed when she promised to help him cover up his murder.
¡®Ah, Sanguinar my friend, if only you were still alive to guide me in this hour. Without you around, who will I know who to smash?¡¯
Thaladred clenched and unclenched his fists repeatedly, fear and anger whirled up a storm inside of him.
He knew he had anger issues, he knew it was wrong to enjoy violence, and slaughter. But he couldn''t help himself. Sanguinar however, had recognized these traits of his, and praised them for virtues. His friend had helped Thaladred put his talents to use, in the process, gathering fame and accolades in his name. Sanguinar was a true friend, one who always kept Thaladred out of trouble by bribing guards, or hiding Thaladred¡¯s misdeeds from public view.
With his sophisticated way of talking, Sanguinar could convince others that Thaladred¡¯s violence was necessary for the good of Quel''Thalas!
Without his best friend¡¯s silver tongue, Thaladred worried he would kill the wrong person, or publicly act on his urges, and face execution.
Even now, there was barely a small string of doubt holding him back from twisting this girl¡¯s head off.
He knew he was mighty, everyone had praised him as the best for the last thousand years.
Yet he lost to this youth!
Could he accept this outcome!?
¡°Hmmm.¡± Thaladred all but growled as he began to work himself up into a frenzy, converting his fear into an inferno of rage.
¡°Do you enjoy the tea, Thaladred?¡± Syra said between taking a small sip from a fancy porcelain cup.
Thaladred crumpled his tea cup, splattering the warmed juice over his gauntleted hand. He was so forceful, droplets fell upon his face.
¡°Do you think me the kind of fool that would imbibe poison the first chance he got?¡± Thaladred snarled.
Syra took a long sip, then gasped in pleasure as she set her cup down, then replied with that same damnable smile.
¡°No, I expected you to crush the cursed cup I provided to you. The tea, however, was very expensive. Especially given the current scarcity.¡± Syra sweetly said, placing a spoonful of sugar into her tea, and gently stirred it up.
No sooner did she say this, than Thaladred saw a faint mist of shadowy energy seep from the crushed metal, and enter his nostrils. He tried to purge the magic from his system, and flush it with his mana, but all he felt was an electric pain course throughout his veins.
Thaladred moved to rise, but felt his knees go weak, and a sturdy hand from behind forced him back into his seat. He wanted to fight, but his strength was almost completely sapped!
He glared at the guard, but was met with a smug smile instead.
The four guards who had accompanied Syra began to clap, and praise their mistress for her foresight.
Thaladred spat, disgusted by their groveling behavior.
Syra lightly clanged her spoon on the lip of her tea cup, and the applause suddenly halted, like a marionette with its strings cut.
¡°I''ve studied you, you know? One does not become Silvermoon''s most famed executioner and remain unknown.¡±
¡°So you know the danger you are in. Release me, and I will forget this ever happened!¡± Thaladred smirked, the fact this little lass had only now realized the error of her ways had him highly question her intelligence, but that didn''t mean he wouldn''t capitalize on her mistake!
Syra laughed gaily into the back of her hand, looking at Thaladred like he was the world''s biggest idiot.
Oh how he despised that look!
¡°Yes, there would be oh so many clamoring for Thaladred the Darkener¡¯s release! The picture book detailing your history contained barely a paragraph or two of words, hardly fit for the esteemed perusal of scholars.¡± Syra held her sides as she laughed.
¡°Yes, my fame is known throughout Silvermoon, they record my deeds in the books of history. What use is there for words, when deeds speak louder than any penned word or letter. Release me, or my friends will see you erased!¡± Thaladred angrily clamored.
¡°Oh how rich, bravado will not save you, Thaladred. You have no friends. You are a dog, one that Sanguinar pointed at his enemies, and you proudly barked at. Do you think you are titled as ¡®the Darkener¡¯ because of your magical skills? No, this history book is of a private collection, one not widely circulated. The victims and family members of your victims would be most interested to place their hands on this book. My oh my, how fame swiftly turns into infamy, hm?¡± Syra relentlessly mocked, and delivered that same, constant, damnable smile!
Thaladred figuratively ground his teeth to dust while he hung his head low.
¡°Thaladred, Thaladred, don¡¯t be so glum. We came to an agreement, did we not? Say it back to me.¡± Syra said, and made a fresh cup of tea in front of him.
¡°A seat on the Convocation, and full support for the Vandercross brat.¡± Thaladred mumbled.
An eerie silence crept over Thaladred after he uttered his reply. Glancing up, he moved just in time to see a giant sword go through the slit in his armored helmet, and pierce his eye.
¡°Augh!¡± Thaladred howled in pain, and jerked backward, falling onto his back.
The tea table fell over with him, spilling the boiling hot water into the gaps in his armor.
¡°Crazy bitch!¡± Thaladred snarled.
Syra hopped down next to him, then wrenched his helmet off, gripped him tightly by his hair, and stared at him with madness across her face.
Thaladred gulped at the sight. He thought he was crazy. Only now did he realize that there was always a higher mountain.
¡°Don¡¯t you ever. Ever. Ever! Disrespect my husband ever again. Got that?¡±
¡°I understand.¡±
¡°I own you Thaladred. You are my attack dog now. And if you ever feel bitter about this arrangement, I would be happy to duel you anytime.¡± Syra got up from her squat, and strutted away like nothing had happened.
Thaladred felt the strength return to his limbs as she left, yet the burning sensation in his veins never quite left as the cursed energy traveled to his wrist, forming a tattoo. .
Fear and rage warred within him once more, but for once, fear won out. Snarling to himself, Thaladred kicked the table over, then roughly affixed his helmet and stomped off.
Observing the entire escapade invisibly from a nearby rooftop, Faedra clucked her tongue, and wiped a tear from her eye.
Her baby girl was all grown up!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Within the Palace of the Sun, Kael was within his chambers, practicing the speech he would be giving at the end of the funerary service.
¡°Cry revenge, and let slip the gates of demise!¡± Kael spoke dramatically into the mirror.
¡°Good one, Goldilocks!¡± Jan''alai guffawed from a nearby couch.
Reclining within the room, the Forest Troll was munching on a big hunk of meat, and laughing at Kael''s practice for the umpteenth time.
Kael side eyed the Forest Troll, and huffed at her barbaric behavior. Dressed in fine silks, Jan''alai had torn the robe, exposing her muscular arms and abs, claiming they restricted her girls.
The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.
Ugh. Just remembering that conversation had him palming his forehead in frustration.
He hated to admit it, but her bust was not suited for the standard Highborn robes. Furthermore, she pestered him about Quel''Dorei culture at every turn!
This girl was trouble with a capital T!
After the battle with the Amani, Varrus-the best friend he hadn''t seen in decades-all but glomped his wife-a wife Kael had never met before, and was still sour to have not been the best man at the wedding-had fled, and left him to deal with all of the clean up! Hah! As if Kael would stick around when he could be doing more productive things! All he wanted to do was sit in his study, close the blinds, and stare at his father¡¯s crown to fuel his inner revenge. Was that too much to ask for?
After the battle, Jan''alai said her people had sailed off to Kalimdor, to escape the prejudice. Fair enough, Kael thought, but why was she sticking around?!
While Varrus was busy enjoying life, Kael was saddled with this blasted Troll. Worst of all, he had to put up with her criticisms! His speech was fine the way it was, and her constant nagging most certainly did not impact the several dozen revisions he had enacted thus far!
¡°Oi, don''t you have more practice to do, Goldilocks, or are you going to keep staring at me like that? A girl might get ideas~.¡± Jan''alai laughed again at Kael''s mounting frustration.
Kael closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. He swore, every second spent around this girl was a second washing away years of royal training.
Looking into the mirror one more time, Kael tried thinking up the lines once more, then faltered, unable to get them out.
¡®Damnit! This is why he ran away to Dalaran in the first place. Being King, public speaking, and leading armies were the last things he wanted to do.¡¯ Kael thought to himself in frustration.
If only he had the confidence of his friend. Maybe then he and Jaina would already be¡
¡°Come on Goldilocks, where is the brave guy blasting elementals and taking on a creature thought to be legend? Man up!¡± Jan''alai stood behind Kael, and roughly slapped Kael on the back, driving the air out of his lungs.
¡°I. I am not very good at public speaking.¡± Kael admitted to Jan''alai what he would never say to another of his people.
¡°Well duh! Anyone with eyes could see that! I met you for the first time yesterday, and you all but fled the main fight without saying a word!¡± Jan''alai belly laughed between munches on her giant drumstick.
Kael looked down. If even the Troll could notice his social faux pa, he must be the laughing stock of all of Silvermoon by now.
¡°Oi, oi, oi! So you can''t talk, so wha!? You''re still a badass, Goldilocks! Stop worrying that pretty little head of yours. Keep it short, simple, and blast a little magic. You High Elves are impressed with that kind of thing more than flowery words anyhow.¡± Jan''alai rolled her eyes, and picked at her ear with her pinky finger.
Kael shivered at her casual attitude breaking every custom he was raised upon, but he found truth in her words.
¡°Thank you, Lady Jan''alai, your words of encouragement are most appreciative.¡± Kael lightly bowed his head, feeling a slight burden lift from his shoulders.
¡°Awe, you''re a cutie, ain''tcha? Enough with this Lady crap, we''re friends, call me Jan''alai!¡± Jan''alai grinned.
¡®Friends.¡¯ Kael found himself unconsciously grinning at the word.
¡°Very well¡Jan''alai. Let us be¡friends.¡± Kael looked at Jan''alai, and prepared to lightly bow again.
¡°Enough with the bowing, give it here Goldilocks!¡± Jan''alai laughed, then pulled Kael in for a tight embrace.
Kael''s eyes widened in surprise as Jan''alai was much stronger than him, and forcefully pulled him closer.
The Forest Troll was a whole head taller than Kael, and practically suffocated him in between her breasts such was the power of her hug.
Kael heard the door to his chambers open, and a familiar mocking voice calling out.
¡°Oh my, I''m not interrupting anything, am I?¡± Varrus the bastard said as he strutted into the room.
¡°Pwah!¡± Kael gasped for air as he was suddenly released.
For some reason, Jan''alai''s face was blushing purple, but Kael didn''t bother with that as he quickly adjusted his crumpled robes and messy hair.
His eyes scanned the room wildly, hoping no one else had witnessed this embarrassing episode.
¡°Relax Kael, it''s just me.¡± Varrus chuckled as he entered, stopping to pour himself a glass of wine, then took a seat.
Kael eyed the door, and saw Varrus¡¯ bodyguard, Rho''dan closing it behind him.
He supposed just any Elf was allowed within his room now?
¡°Don''t look so pent up, my mother-in-law has dirt on your majordomo, Pathaleon. Entry was child''s play. Besides, all the guards here saw what we did to the Trolls, present company excluded of course.¡± Varrus raised his goblet toward Jan''alai, and took a sip.
Who was looking pent up? Kael marched over, swiped the goblet-his personal goblet-out of Varrus¡¯ hands, and took a deep swig of it, then collapsed onto the couch beside his friend.
¡°How can you be so blase at a time like this? Our fathers lie dead, our people suffering, and you, you have the gall to swagger into my chambers like you own the place! Shouldn''t you be off gathering the councilors for your little club?¡± Kael said bitterly.
¡°No need to sulk, Kael, I have my end all squared away, and came to deliver the documentation for ratification.¡± Varrus smugly smirked-as if there was some other way to smirk!-and handed him a large, formal document.
Kael scowled, a Prince did not sulk! He was not sulking!
Roughly grabbing the documentation, Kael quickly scanned the names one by one. Seeing that there were no egregious members Varrus wanted on the Convocation, he hastily signed the paper, affixed his seal to it, and tossed it back to Varrus.
¡°There. It is finished. Now if you would kindly step out, I am busy rehearsing my speech.¡± Kael shooed Varrus away imperiously with a wave of the hand.
¡°Ha! Goldilocks is full of it! He has no speech. Between you and me, I think he wants another hug.¡± Jan''alai butted in with a grin that was all teeth.
¡°Oh hoh? Goldilocks, is it?¡± Varrus matched Jan''alai¡¯s grin, and slapped his arm around Kael¡¯s shoulder.
¡®You have blonde hair too.¡¯ Kael stared daggers into Varrus¡¯ smiling, punchable face.
¡°Anyway, I can see you''re very busy in here Kael. Before I go, I wanted to show off something of mine.¡± Varrus said, then reached into the mageweave bag by his side.
Holding it by the braids, Varrus revealed a Trolls head.
Kael quirked his eyebrow, what was his friend trying to do?
The head then blinked its eyes, and opened its mouth.
¡°Ay mon, watcha tryin ta do?¡±
¡°Zul¡¯Jin!¡± Jan''alai jumped from her relaxed position nearby, and ran at the head in Varrus¡¯ grasp with the intent to kill.
¡°Ah, ah, ah. Not so fast!¡± Varrus said, blinking 5ft away, and dodging Jan''alai''s flame coated fist.
¡°I don''t know what ails you so, Jan''alai, but we can work this out.¡± Kael stood up and acted as a shield for his two friends.
¡°That¡¯s Zul¡¯Jin! The tormentor of my people! I must kill him!¡± Jan''alai huffed like a bull in heat.
¡°Varrus, why don''t you let Jan''alai here kill the Amani chieftain?¡± Kael said over his shoulder.
¡°Hahaha! Because silly Elf! Ta kill me, all da Loa bound ta me must die!¡± The head kf Zul¡¯Jin cackled from Varrus''s hand.
¡°It''s true.¡± Varrus nodded.
¡°Then if dying is the only way to erase that monster, so be it!¡± Jan''alai drew a dagger that was latched onto her waist, inverted it, and moved to plunge it into her heart with no hesitation.
¡°No!¡± Kael ran forward, and held his hand out.
When Jan''alai was about to bring the dagger down, it stabbed into Kael''s hand which had come between her dagger and her heart.
¡°Goldilocks.¡± Jan''alai hissed.
¡°I won''t let my friend die needlessly. I''ve lost too much!¡± Kael laughed the pain away with a hysterical laugh. Tears were beginning to pool at the corner of his eyes, and rage flashed across his face from all the pain and suffering he had experienced in the last 7 days.
The dagger in Jan''alai''s hand was wrenched from her grasp, and telekinetically pulled into Varrus¡¯ hand. Then a beam of Light magic closed up Kael''s wound as if it had never existed.
¡°Trust me Jan''alai, he suffers more now than he ever would in death. Just look at him? With the help of Rhommath, we worked a way so that Zul¡¯Jin could no longer regeberate his body from the waist down.¡± Varrus chuckled as he jangled Zul''Jin up and down by the braid of his hair.
Kael eyed Jan''alai, and daw the same hurt on her that he felt when he learnt of his father''s passing.
¡°I''m sorry Green Beak, but I can''t lose you too. Please forgive me.¡± Kael weakly smiled, and reached out to hold her hand.
She took Kael¡¯s hand, the one that still had blood on it, and pressed it to her heart.
¡°No Kael, thank you for being my first friend.¡± Jan''alai smiled down at him.
¡°Green Beak, huh? So big, so muscular, yet so feminine. I¡¯m impressed Goldilocks, I didn¡¯t think you had it in you.¡± Varrus coughed between laughter, leading Kael to pull back his hand in a hurry, as if it had been scalded by hot water.
¡°Eh, the great Vandercross likes my nickname, you should share with us what your wife calls you.¡± Jan¡¯alai wriggled her eyebrows suggestiveley.
¡°Yes, I too am quite interested in this.¡± Kael said, rubbing his chin as if he was a scholar in deep thought.
¡°Ahem. I hate to ruin a great moment, but I really should be going. Syra and I will treat you two to lunch sometime after this whole funeral thing is taken care of. Take care.¡± Varrus nodded at the two of them, then swiftly departed.
Kael turned back to Jan''alai, but saw that she had jumped out the window, transformed into her dragonhawk form and flew away into the distance.
Pausing at the window, Kael looked down at his hand, and saw dried crimson staining the sleeve to his robes.
His heart was a flutter, and he didn''t know why he had stuck his hand out like that without a second thought.
Just what was he thinking?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Varrus stepped out of Kael¡¯Thas¡¯s private room with a big goofy grin on his face.
¡°Good news, Highlord?¡± Rho''dan enquired.
¡°My boy is getting in! Hahaha, yeah!¡± Varrus fist pumped, and side-hugged Rho''dan in excitement.
¡°If you say so, Highlord.¡± Rho''dan said stoically as he was rocked left and right by the celebratory hug.
Varrus was quick to let his guard go as the other palace guard began to give him strange looks.
¡®Ah, fuck''em!¡¯ Varrus chuckled in a good mood.
His mopey emo friend could finally forget about that traitor Jaina, and find a woman who really cared for him.
And most importantly, his wife wouldn''t be clawing out his eyeballs because the attractive Forest Troll would be together with Kael!
Hell yeah!
Chapter 31
Dusk was approaching Silvermoon city, and the lights, and ornaments hung along the side of the road brightly lit up the main street like Christmas in New York.
The entire surviving population had gathered at the gate, and were slowly marching toward Sunstrider Square (the square in front of the Palace of the Sun.)
Varrus stood at the head of the crowd along with the other city leaders.
By his side, Syra was holding onto his hand, and clung close to him.
The other members of the Convocation stood in a row with him. Behind them were the wise, then the people who participated in the battles, finally flanked by the civilians taking up the rear.
Over 170,000 High Elves took part in this march.
Quel''Thalas was a nation roughly the size of England, and once boasted well over a million people. While the majority of the country lived in the city state of Silvermoon, there was still the possibility that tens of thousands had survived in the villages and towns outside Silvermoon.
Initially, Quel''Thalas should have roughly 100,000~ survivors. Because of Varrus¡¯ involvement, instead of the 10% survivors, Silvermoon at the very least, had a 17% survival rate. This figure, of course did not account for the hamlets and towns that escaped the Scourge attack, but Varrus figured that wouldn¡¯t be more than a few thousand to perhaps 20,000 more survivors given that the vast majority of the country¡¯s population was centered in SIlvermoon.
As amazing as it was to stand at the head of a 170,000 strong line of people, Varrus felt that the city was practically empty.
If he had to liken the current vibe to anything, it was like living in a large city, then driving around town at 10AM. Yeah, you would see a lot of people, but the city felt bare compared to peak operating hours. As opposed to morning/evening traffic, then you really felt like you lived in a metro area of millions.
When they began the march, every Elf took some ash from a burnt building, and symbolically smeared it on their face.
Apparently it was common in Quel''Dorei culture to place your deceased loved one¡¯s ashes upon yourself in a display of sorrow.
Elves were not supposed to die. They were immortal. Or near immortal depending on who asked. The point was, they were not supposed to die. Given their low fertility, each loss was seen as a national tragedy.
Deaths were reported in newspapers, portrayed in plays, and gossiped about for decades. It was a big deal.
The Highborn abhorred death so much, they taught Humans magic to kill the Trolls, and throw them at all their problems. It wasn''t as if the High Elves couldn''t fight the Trolls themselves, no, they would rather have someone else take care of the problem if they didn''t have to risk themselves.
It was this ¡®not my problem¡¯ attitude that Varrus took exception with. While he understood where this mindset came from, it was this mental weakness that perpetuated the Amani threat. In many ways, Quel''Thalas was like a modern nation. They had public: restrooms, waste bins, transportation, libraries, education, refrigeration, heating, and all the best amenities you could expect from 1940¡¯s technology (barring airplanes).
And like a modern nation, they kept saying things like ¡®we should help the Humans!¡¯ Then proceed to do absolutely nothing, even when the Humans are being gnawed on by a zombie 10 miles away from their homes.
So while Varrus went along, and placed the ash of a burnt building on his face, and was respectful towards the monumental loss of life 7 days ago, he couldn''t help but shake his head at Elven hypocrisy. That all of this would have been easily avoided if they took a more proactive role in world events. It was a classic blunder of all Elves in fantasy medium, and Varrus aimed to cure them of it.
Meanwhile, at the head of the column, Kael¡¯Thas was clenching and unclenching the pommel to his sword so much, Varrus worried for his friend¡¯s mental state.
He had hoped Jan''alai would''ve helped loosen him up, yet watching him remain cold and aloof as he twirled his cape like some supervillain really had Varrus concerned.
The memories he had inherited were mostly vapid, self aggrandizing playboy antics. Like the kind of life a rockstar would live if he was high on his own hype, and he was only famous because of his other bandmates.
However, the few good memories he inherited mostly involved Kael¡¯Thas. The kid was a know it all, but he was pretty innocent. He was the only one who had treated Varrus with any kind of sincerity. For that, he had only respect for the troubled Prince.
Given Varrus¡¯ meta knowledge, he knew how consumed Kael¡¯Thas was with revenge, and he genuinely viewed the guy as his one and only friend.
As his friend, he tried to tease Kael, and introduce some levity in his life. Make him think about anything but the death of his father, and the weight on his shoulders.
Varrus understood what it was like to lose. He had at one point, been mad enough at someone back on Earth, he wanted to do evil to them. But having a friend to talk to had helped him out of a dark place. Varrus now wanted to be that friend for Kael.
As they marched block by block, they finally reached Sunstrider Square.
Before any speeches or rites were to be done, a group of ladies and practitioners of the Light split off from the group-Syra included-and gathered in the center to sing.
Their voices were angelic, powerful, otherworldly. Like the LOTR song, ¡®Passing of the Elves.¡¯
¡°Long ago, when our world was sundered so
We Quel''Dorei fled eastward oh
Upon this land, we made home
Forevermore we made light eternal sol
The sky above darkened upon sol¡¯s longbow
We Quel¡¯Dorei spread ash in remembrance of anima¡¯s glow
Upon this land, your family calls home
Forevermore until we meet again
Today at last, life meets its woe
We Quel''Dorei shed tears of endless snow
Upon this land, lies your final home
Forevermore your spirit roam¡±
Silence so loud, it was deafening spread across the venue as the ladies concluded their song.
Varrus¡¯ eyes were closed as hot tears fell freely down his cheeks, mixed with ash dirtying his face even more, and then dripped down his chin.
His wife clung to him then, and he held on to her loving embrace like a lifeline.
He was surprised to see her cry tears of her own, and clung to her harder for it.
However, not everyone present was so lucky. Most people had no one to cling to, and so hugged strangers in this moment of shared pain.
Others, like Prince Kael¡¯Thas stood alone, like an island unto themselves.
Varrus felt his heart pang in guilt seeing his friend like that. If only Syra wasn''t so jealous, he would hug Kael too.
If there was anything struggling through life had taught him, it was that it was over when it was over, and you had to tell the people close to you that you loved them.
This was such a generational defining tragedy, even stoics like Rho¡¯dan had solemn looks of sorrow.
Varrus smiled through the tears, cupped Syra¡¯s chin, and looked into her eyes.
He didn''t lean down to kiss her, or talk dirty.
He just wanted to look at her. To confirm she was real. To burn her teary eyed, smiling beauty into his brain forever.
¡°I love you.¡± Varrus hoarsely whispered.
¡°I love you too.¡± Syra quietly replied, staring into Varrus¡¯ eyes with the same intensity.
Like that, a moment of silence had been observed, as the sun set.
It was then Varrus¡¯ turn to speak. It was a tough act to follow up such a hauntingly beautiful song, but an encouraging squeeze of the palm from his wife gave him all the courage he needed.
Ordinarily, speeches would be given from the balcony overhanging the square, but in this case, a raised stage with a platform had been constructed.
This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.
Stepping behind a podium, Varrus noticed Ed an enchanted device had been set up in front of his mouth that amplified sound. Quel''Thalas truly was akin to a modern society trapped in the 1940¡¯s. Magic was wondrous.
¡°Ahem, people of Silvermoon, many of you may recognize my face as the notorious son of your previous Highlord. I am here speaking to you today to reassure you that House Vandercross has found a solution to your hunger pangs. Some of you have already fed upon this: the Mana Stone.¡± Varrus said, producing one of the crystals.
¡°Some of you may have noticed during the day that there were stalls available to the public offering mana. Going forward, every major intersection and street corner shall have Mana Stones until the Sunwell has been restored.¡±
Many people began to mutter questioningly at Varrus, and the once quiet and respectful crowd had grown noisy with a buzz.
¡°As First Seat of the Convocation, this is my promise to you!¡± Varrus pointed toward his guards, and they began to unload cartloads of Mana Stones.
[Speech 49 -> 50]
Many Elves had not fed on mana for an entire week, and they scrambled to get a piece for themselves. As a result, chaos ensued.
¡°Siiiileeeennnnccceeee!!!¡± Varrus commanded, voice reverberating throughout the square.
¡°We are Elves of Quel''Thalas! Conduct yourselves as such! Everyone who has not fed will get a chance. Line up, or be cast out.¡± Varrus shouted his heart out, capitalizing on the effects of intimidation and his Speech perk tree as much as possible.
It seemed to work, as the Elves who were acting out of pocket looked sheepish and began to organize themselves into a dozen different lines.
At this point, Varrus felt the undivided attention of tens of thousands. Where before, he had seen hostility and disinterest in the expressions of many faces, now there was curiosity, and maybe even some respect.
¡°As First Seat, not only do I promise to feed your reliance on mana, but to slay your enemies. Behold! The arch traitor and murderer of my father, Drathir Drakhar! As well as the leader of the Amani, Zul¡¯Jin!¡± Varrus reached into his mageweave bag, and pulled out the twin heads of his enemies.
¡°Curse you, Vandacross! A hex upon ya land!¡± Zul¡¯Jin roared into the magic, sound amplifying stone.
¡°Yes, not even death is good enough for our most hated foe!¡± Varrus openly mocked.
His laughter was mimicked by many other Elves as Varrus dangled Zul¡¯Jin by the braids of his hair, and the Troll cursed up a storm.
¡®Frickin smug Elves.¡¯ Varrus internally cringed at his political theater.
Carrying around two severed heads was gross beyond all that was holy, but people in Warcraft sure seemed to be obsessed with them if the numerous quests were anything to go off of.
At the very least, he got to copy the famous manly man, Kratos, God of War, and carry around a wise cracking companion?
Looking at Zul¡¯Jin''s ugly mug, Varrus decided he''d rather keep him in the bag. Stuffing the Troll back into the pocket space of his mageweave bag, Varrus raised his hands to calm the laughter.
¡°One Elf, a Convocation does not make. Without further ado, please welcome your new councilors!¡± Varrus clapped, and introduced everyone from Koren to Lor''Themar.
Once everyone was done clapping, and the new members of the Convocation had each given a speech, Varrus took the stage once more.
¡°Before I bow out, I have one final gift to share with the survivors of Silvermoon.¡± Varrus said, as motes of light began to gather in his hands.
Casting the spell Infinite Light, Varrus prayed and sprayed the beam of Light energy across the entire square.
Spreading like chain heal, Varrus spent over 10 minutes hosing down everyone present with healing power.
Cripples could walk, the blind could see, and depression was alleviated.
Varrus didn''t want to become overly reliant on the Light, but its healing properties could not be denied!
Watching many people smile for the first time made Varrus feel good inside. There were some people, he noticed, who had hung at the back of the crowd, so desolate that they didn''t even bother lining up for a Mana Stone despite their obvious hunger. However, with a little boost, their pale, emaciated forms began to line up, and regain some color after consuming some mana.
Varrus received extremely polite clapping from just about everyone present. For the smug Elves, this was like receiving a rockstars ovation!
Varrus lightly bowed at everyone present, then made his exit.
After Varrus and the other members of the Convocation had spoken, the public had been invited to share brief public eulogies.
Given the long lives of Elves, eulogies could often take entire days, or depending on how beloved the deceased, a week long. Sharing thousands of years of life with a population a little over a million meant even the most antisocial Elf would be familiar with at least a hundred people.
As such, the eulogies today had to be kept short for propriety''s sake.
One by one, people would stand at the front of the crowd, and speak.
Varrus, along with Kael and the Convocation were standing maybe 10-20ft behind the podium to show ¡®solidarity.¡¯ But Varrus knew it for the rubbish politics it was, and that they were really there to show off, and be seen by the public.
It was dreadful.
Honestly, Varrus didn''t know how professional politicians dealt with the boredom. They probably told themselves it was good for their numbers, and slept well knowing people were giving them some attention. Bloody narcissists.
And it wasn''t like he was disrespecting the dead. It was just, after the tenth tragedy or so, it became difficult to fully invest his attention into the mind numbing scale of the event.
So he passed his time trying to look engaging/sympathetic while also trying to get a rough estimate of the amount of people present in the square, and see if all 170k+ could fit. Given 300,000+ people could fit in Vatican square, it was possible.
As time dragged on, the open forum would be wrapped up, and then Kael¡¯Thas would conclude the night''s events.
After much talking, it was around midnight that a familiar figure took the stand.
It was Koren''s brother, Dakar. The handsome, green eyed blonde took to the stage, but Varrus paid him little mind.
Varrus was half asleep by this point, and barely reacted when the dragonhawk riding Hero pointed his sword at him, and began to cry angrily. He belatedly realized that this must be the warning Faedra had informed him about earlier in the day.
Frankly, Varrus wasn''t worried even if Dakar had proof. The things Varrus provided today practically made him untouchable in the court of public opinion. How could Dakar not see this? Was he that stupid, or was someone manipulating him?
Dakar then launched himself into a monologuing frenzy as he levied accusation after accusation upon Varrus.
¡°Everyone knows of the feud between my family and Highlord Vandercross. It was a vile act of revenge that this so-called rising Hero and First Seat of the Convocation mind controlled my brother, and forced him to kill my father with his own two hands!
I have here 10 witnesses that all saw my father go to his house during the Scourging of Silvermoon, but never saw him return!
Furthermore, the death of Lord Sanguinar must be at his bidding as well! His wife, Syra, is the daughter of the Mistress of Murder Row!
She was a co-commander during the battle of the docks against the Trolls yesterday. I saw from my dragonhawk mount, Thaladred strike down his long time friend and ally, Lord Sanguinar! I then witnessed Syra blackmail him afterwards! Come forward, Hero of Silvermoon, tell us how the witch had you slay Lord Sanguinar in the heat of battle!¡± Dakar said with great passion and anger.
Thousands of people began to mutter, creating a cacophony of noises and confusion in the crowd.
From what Varrus could hear, there was some general discontent, as well as badmouthing of his father.
However, there was more skepticism than anything else, and talk of the Mana Stones was helping Varrus¡¯ case in the court of public opinion more than anything else.
Stepping from the group by Varrus¡¯ side, Thaladred was still in his all plate armor, and was clenching his fists so hard, it looked like he could go Doom Guy, and rip & tear something apart.
Varrus was slightly annoyed that Thaladred was going to testify, but ultimately, he chose to stand on the sidelines and see what his newest ¡®ally¡¯ would say.
Besides, when his wife dragged Thaladred off into the alley, Varrus could only imagine what she had done to him. This would serve as a test to see where his loyalties lied.
Thaladred stood in front of the podium for a moment, and some people in the crowd began hurling insults.
Either directly at Thaladred, or booing Dakar for ruining a sacred funeral procession.
Thaladred looked back at Syra¡¯s smiling face, then turned around to deck Dakar in the chin.
¡°Today is a solemn occasion. It should not be marred by petty politics. Today is a day of unity. These baseless accusations have no place in this forum.¡± Thaladred said woodenly, like he was reading directly off a script.
¡°Well said!¡± Syra exclaimed, and began to clap.
Varrus gently clapped alongside her. Following his cue, the rest of House Vandercross also began to clap from amongst the crowd.
¡°Guards, throw this trouble maker and his companions into a cell. A night in the dungeon will cool him off.¡± Kael¡¯Thas ordered some nearby Royal Guard.
¡°Brother! You have to save me! Do not allow them to do this. Brother!¡± Dakar kicked and screamed towards Koren as he was roughly held by the guards.
Koren guiltily looked to Varrus, then left with the guards to visit his brother in the dungeon.
Varrus could only shake his head at the sad state of affairs. Faedra''s warning had been quite melodramatic, but it was ultimately a nothing burger.
However, this did alert him that there was perhaps an enemy plotting his downfall.
Many might not know, but Dakar¡¯s continued survivability was directly tied to Koren¡¯s loyalty. Devoted Koren may be, but his condition to throw in with Varrus was sparing his brother.
Varrus would have to speak privately with Koren and work something out. Because he would not suffer someone as strong as a Hero making trouble for him on the sidelines.
Once Dakar and his companions were dragged away, and a few more mourners spoke of their loved ones, Kael¡¯Thas took the stage, brimming with passion like a man possessed.
¡°Friends, citizens, Quel''Dorei, I come to you today not as your Prince, but as a grieving son.¡± Kael said, then picked up a palm full of ashes from a coffin cast in the shape of the former King, Anasterian Sunstrider.
¡°Thou art the ruins of the noblest Elf that ever lived in the tide of times.
Woe to the hand that shed this costly blood!
Over thy ash now do I prophesize,¨C
A curse shall light upon the rotten limbs of men;
Domestic fury and fierce civil strife shall consume all corners of Azeroth;
Blood and destruction shall be so in use and dreadful magics so familiar that mothers shall but smile when they behold their sons and daughters lain fallow with the hands of war.
Quel''Thalas¡¯ spirit, thirsts for revenge!
No longer are we Quel''Dorei, High Elves of Silvermoon!
I dub thee Sin''Dorei: Blood Elves!
May vengeance be your scabbard, and anger your quiver!
It shall be in this Royal Quarter I speak, not as your monarch, but with a son¡¯s voice that I cry ¡®havoc,¡¯ and let slip the dogs of war!!¡±
Chapter 32
While the Elves of Quel''Thalas were busy holding their ceremony, the world did not come to a standstill, and events continued to unfold.
Within the burning ruins of Dalaran, a portal linked directly to the Twisting Nether burst into existence.
From within the depths of boundless chaos, the second highest ranked demon, Archimonde the Defiler emerged.
Standing at 12ft tall on hoofed feet, and possessing bluish skin, tentacles under his chin, and eyes bursting green with Fel energy, the demonic Draenei was an imposing figure.
His arrival onto the planet of Azeroth created a surging thunderclap as the energies of Fel gushed into the mortal plane.
Every magically attuned being-whether they be within Dalaran, or on the far off continent of Kalimdor-felt his presence.
Night Elves, Trolls, Tauren they all dropped to their knees and began praying to their respective deities. For they had known of this phenomenon long recorded in their histories.
For the Elves around the world who had lived through the Sundering, it was as if a nightmare had revisited itself upon this land.
Not all were desolate, however. Some refused to bow, and showed defiance.
Thrall, young Warchief of the Horde tasted the Fel magics in the air, and called the elements to him, fortifying the tribes around him from the sickly sweet temptation known to their fathers.
Jaina, archmage and heroine of the Alliance, from her recently established base of Theramore erected a shield, protecting her home from a roiling storm that threatened to drown out her new city.
The psychic screams of imprisoned Old Gods howled back at the Fel in defiance, their concerted efforts pressed upon Archimonde with one thought in mind:
SUBMIT
Archimonde chuckled, and flourished his grand cape around him like a ward, dispelling the crazed echoes of the mad gods.
Waving his hand with an incantation on his lips, Archimonde drew upon the power of the portal that had summoned him, and opened countless portals in the vicinity.
Hoofed demons began spilling out of these breaches in reality, hungering for blood.
Hundreds of Doomguards, hulking 8 to 13ft tall horned and winged demons red in skin, clad in armor and wielding giant halberds were the first to emerge. These monstrous beasts acted as Captains and Commanders for the forces following in their wake.
Following directly behind them were thousands of rank and file soldiers. Blue-grey (or sometimes orange) skinned demons known as the Felguard. Standing at 7-8ft tall, these warriors covered themselves entirely in armor, except for their exposed chest. Wielding a double headed axe that was almost as tall as they were, what these demons lacked in intelligence, they made up for in brute strength and ferocity.
These Felguards were supported by the remaining three most numerous Fel races:
The human-sized, purple skinned, winged and hoofed whip wielding succubi seduced men, and sucked them dry of both life energies, and their bodily fluids. Their targets were left as little more than bags of dry skin, eventually turning into dust on the wind.
Ranging in size from large dogs to baby elephants, Felhounds were quadruped demons possessing no eyes, and the quality to devour mana. They sniffed out their targets with two flowery looking fleshy stalks sticking out of their back. Gifted with mana sight, they growled with a boundless hunger. Scaled, and able to silence mages, they were a magic practitioner''s worst nightmare.
Lastly, the most numerous demon appearing in the tens of thousands, was the Imp. Looking like something most people would describe as a ¡®gremlin¡¯ the Imps were chatty, and often punted by Felguards for sport. Skin the color of mottled bark, they were a bony creature with high pitched voices, and the ability to throw fireballs. In a force that excelled in melee, Imps were essentially the only ranged support.
In but a moment, Archimonde had summoned tens of thousands of demons unto Azeroth.
Without any direction or specific goal, they knew what to do. The demons immediately began to corrupt and destroy.
Any remaining souls in Dalaran were all but defenseless from the hungering tide.
Souls became nourishment, and torment their libation.
The Burning Legion had set foot on Azeroth once more.
Archimonde drank in the suffering like an alcoholic appreciating his final drink.
¡°Astounding.¡± Archimonde remarked.
¡°Indeed, Lord Archimonde. The paltry wizards of Dalaran stand no chance against the might of the Legion.¡± Tichondrius, the vampire-like, winged Dreadlord agreed. His smooth baritone sounded sibilant like all those of his race.
¡°You have done well, Tichondrius. I am placing the Scourge under your command while I focus on seizing the Well of Eternity.¡± Archimonde ordered.
¡°You honor me, great one.¡± Tichondrius bowed.
¡°The stench of the Void is rife among this planet. I suspect foul play is afoot. Whence I return, we shall cleanse this land, and claim it for the Legion.¡± Archimonde stated.
¡°Your will is my command.¡±
¡°Hmph. Beware the lands to the north, I sense the rot of a great champion of the Void. Focus your efforts on subduing these what do you call them?¡±
¡°Human, Lord Archimonde.¡±
¡°Yes, Humans. The Scourge is an interesting tool. Succeed in proving their worth, and you might just find your standing improve, Tichondrius. For now, I shall soften up the pawns of the Void with a little, mm, gift.¡± Archimonde smirked to himself as he curiously looked down at the Human Death Knight and Lich groveling to the side.
If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
Archimonde then ignored whatever reply his silver tongued subordinate uttered, and magically cast his voice to encompass the surrounding area within the city limits of Dalaran and beyond.
¡°Let the echoes of doom resound across this wretched world, that all who live may hear them and despair. A rain of fire shall cleanse this land!¡± Archimonde said, and then enacted one final spell, opening countless portals in the sky all across the world.
The night sky above the sub-continent of Lordaeron was torn asunder as flaming green meteors the size of SUV''s streaked toward the ground.
Nowhere was safe as these Fel golems known as Infernals crushed buildings, mountains, and fields.
Emerging from the pits of destruction, the 12ft tall golems roared destruction, and consumed life in a quest to extinguish the faintest glimmer of hope amongst Elves and Men.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Within the dry wastelands known as the Barrens, hot rays scorched the earth, and cracked the dirt.
Water only existed here in small oasis, occupied by savage Centaurs, Quilboars, and giant crocolisks, survival was all but impossible.
For Thrall, leader and Warchief of the Horde, this was not what he had expected when he fled the Human lands of Lordaeron, and came to the continent of Kalimdor.
Unaccustomed to sailing, the Orc fleet had crashed on some cursed islands, and then found their way into this desert land.
His people were tired, hungry, and most importantly, thirsty.
Fortunately they had made friends along the way, incorporating the Dark Spear Trolls into their coalition, and allying themselves with locals calling themselves the Tauren.
For the last few weeks, they had been setting up outposts and villages to hunt for food, and rest.
They had finally found a place next to a river, and had begun construction of a proper city.
Thrall dubbed it Orgrimmar, in honor of his mentor, and the previous Warchief, Orgrimm Doomhammer.
However, founding a city in these hostile lands was anything but easy.
Even now, he was out scouting with the Tauren to help them eliminate their eternal foe: the Centaur.
Foul smelling creatures, they were more obstinate than an Orc, and refused to talk. Knowing nothing of honor, they quickly became a hated enemy of the Horde.
Thrall had consulted the spirits of this land, and learnt that they were a cursed species.
If he was to truly gain the trust of the local elementals, he would have to help them lift this curse.
¡°The Legion has returned.¡± A wind spirit whispered in Thrall¡¯s ear, warning him.
¡°Thank you my friend. Will you lend me your power against this foe?¡± Thrall whispered back.
Laughter tickled Thrall¡¯s ear, and disappeared as soon as it had come.
¡°Dire news Warchief! Our settlements are under attack!¡± An Orc outrider mounted upon a car sized dire wolf reported.
¡°The Earth Mother smiles upon us this day, young Thrall. Come, for the tribes!¡± Cairn Bloodhoof, leader of the Tauren slammed his aged-yet still powerful-hoof onto the ground, creating a mini earthquake.
¡°Lok''tar Ogar, we ride!¡± Thrall hefted his giant hammer, and pointed it toward the burning town of Crossroads.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Theramore, it was a bustling seaside town under heavy construction after Jaina had fled the endless tide of Undead. Located at the corner of a huge swamp known as Duskwallow Marsh, it was practically unassailable by land, and commanded the nearby waters with impunity.
Its high walls, and steadfast guards scared away the local wildlife, and Murloc pests.
Ships were constantly coming and going as stragglers arrived from Lordaeron.
Fearful of turning into Undead, more than 15,000 people had sailed across the ocean to Kalimdor, and called this place home.
Jaina watched the peasant workers stack bricks, cobble dirt roads, and perform a hundred other miscellaneous tasks from within Theramore keep.
The scrying orb in front of her served as both a means of spying on her immediate surroundings, as well as a tool to facilitate communication.
Currently, Jaina was clenching her hand over her heart at the grave news she had just received.
Archmage Antonidas, leader of Dalaran, and the mages of Kirin Tor had just passed.
Before his death, he had warned all those close to him via a message on his magic orb.
He informed them of treachery from within, of the dreadful mage turned Lich, Kel''Thuzad.
Antonidas¡¯ death by the hands of a colleague had sent Jaina into a depression.
However, what truly set her heart aflame, and was something she didn''t want to believe in was the identity of the Scourges leader.
Scrying orbs could share images, as well as text, and what Jaina saw made her sick to her very core.
There on her orb was a deathly pale, viciously grinning monster. It was her one time crush, Arthas Menethil.
Jaina was beside herself in sorrow when she suddenly felt it.
Creeping, hot corruption blasted her like a vent of hot air.
The mana around her began to take on a sluggish, sickly quality, as if the air she breathed had become polluted by something.
¡°Archmage! Huff, Archmage, we have a situation!¡± A guard came bursting into her chambers, out of breath from running up multiple flights of stairs.
¡°I can see that Sergeant.¡± Jaina idly commented as she looked out the window.
There from a distance, a dozen flaming boulders came hurtling down at her town, her people.
¡°Alert the guard, and prepare for battle!¡± Jaina commanded, then prepared herself to meet this new foe.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Within the confines of a musky, dust covered cell completely devoid of light or sound, a blind Night Elf sat cross legged as if in meditation.
With the arrival of Archimonde, the Night Elf¡¯s scars lit up a sickly green, and his gaze fell in the direction of Lordaeron.
The Legion had returned, and with it, his freedom.
Illidan madly laughed to himself within his cell, and clawed at the ground in excitement.
10,000 years of darkness, and soon he was to be free.
Oh how he had waited for a moment like this.
For his scowling brother to come begging for his aid. Or for sweet, caring, beautiful Tyrande to forgive him for his crimes.
Crimes, hah! The very word drove Illidan to madness.
Was it a crime to destroy the Legion? Why couldn''t they see he had gone double agent, learned the powers of Fel for good?!
Illidan could''ve broken this cell any time, but he held on, hoping that the woman he loved would see his sacrifice, and accept him for what he was.
Cenarius, the venerated demigod worshiped by the Night Elves, had taught his brother to be the first druid, forsaking Illidan. All because he, Illidan, did not know sacrifice.
If willingly spending the last 10,000 years locked in a black box wasn''t sacrifice, then Illidan would have to ask what the meaning of sacrifice was when he held Cenarius¡¯ beating heart in front of his own eyes the next time they met.
Yes, his ascension was soon. He could feel it.
The world was about to change, and Illidan intended to seize the opportunity.
¡°Just watch your back, brother. Otherwise, Tyrande may find interest in another Stormrage!¡± Illidan cackled madly to himself, the sounds of his howling heard by none save himself.
Chapter 33
AN: Going forward, High Elves will be referred to as Blood Elves per Kael¡¯s rebranding.
The crowd in Sunstrider Square was electric.
It was well past midnight, yet tens of thousands had refused to turn in for rest.
Kael''s speech had ignited a fire in many citizens, driving them to pledge their support for King and country. (Despite Kael refusing the crown.)
The Prince had struck a chord with those who had lost everything, and had nowhere to go.
When your house was in ruins, your wife, your children, your parents, grandparents, and grandchildren were all dead, murdered by grotesque zombies¡any normal man would cut off his own arm if he could spite the bastards who did this to him!
This feeling of revenge, and inconsolable rage was more potent compared to a regular Humans loss, considering that these family and friends had been by their side for hundreds if not thousands of years. For the average Elf, they never thought there would be a day when they could die, so long as they remained inside their city, protected by an impenetrable magical barrier.
Reality, however, proved that for all their smug superiority, the Blood Elves were mortal, same as any race.
The anger, rage, and ferocity of a normally mellow people was beginning to awaken. Like a dragon aroused from its slumber, these ancients were taking shape into dangerous soldiers.
Already, impromptu training dummies were being set up, and old bows were dusted off from the Rangers armory.
Books were handed out, and Elves began to study tomes that they hadn''t read in thousands of years.
Five veteran sword masters who had practiced some Arcane magic Blinked from place to place as they engaged one another in a demonstration of the mixture of melee and magic.
Many mages who could not cast anything more complex than a fireball/frostball were drawn to this demonstration. Blink was considered an intermediate spell in terms of difficulty. If they learned it, could they flit across the battlefield like these masters?
Rangers imbued their bows with mana, demonstrating the difference between regular arrows, and Arcane Shots.
Regular Elven arrows were powerful, able to pierce deeply into most targets. However, not only did Arcane arrows have incredible stopping power-able to easily pierce a set of Alliance soldier plate armor-but the Rangers managed to guide the arrow mid flight via his connection due to the mana. The ranger shot an arrow above a mannequin''s head, then he muttered some words, and the arrow glowed, then dropped 3ft, right into the slit of the target''s helmet.
One paladin was giving a sermon to a group of praying citizens. He showed them the ultimate Light skill: Bubble. Encouraging the citizens to strike him, many shot arrows at him, or even launched a firebolt or two, however, the Paladin was unharmed.
After witnessing this survival feat, many Blood Elves who were studying dusty old pages went over to learn from the Paladin.
The Royal Guard was out in force as well, demonstrating their spellbreaking ability. The way they fought, they drew the surrounding mana into their limbs and weapons, and moved their double bladed glaives with such fluidity, it looked like they were dancing.
For Varrus, witnessing these people show off to train was like watching House Vandercross train to push the Undead menace out of their lands all over again.
Except there were many more high level experts at this training venue, and it felt almost something like a convention with all the different disciplines showing off.
Hell, even Rho''dan was getting into it, and showing off the quality of enchantments of his gear, and taking on all challengers. Already, a few dozens of the more mana hungry inclined had flocked under the Vandercross banner to sign up.
Varrus shook his head in awe at how many people were willing to put their lives on the line. Varrus had thought he was inspiring, and that the people he had managed to initially recruit were impressive. However, all it took was a few words from Kael, and tens of thousands had become near fanatical in their quest for vengeance. No wonder Kael had canonically recruited 15% of the total surviving population to go to war! Despite his faults, the Prince was charismatic.
Whether these big numbers were due to a larger venue, Varrus couldn''t say, since he had personally saved well over 10,000 people, yet less than 500 of them stuck around (500 being only 5% of 10k).
But what this large recruitment drive did show Varrus was respect, and love for the Sunstrider name.
This respect for the Sunstriders only served to contrast with his Vandercross name. Varrus¡¯ father must be like that one politician who served in office for 80% of their life, and refused to go until they died in their seat.
On the flip side, the people truly did love King Anasterian, and some of that love rubbed off on Kael.
If Varrus had to liken this case to a real world scenario, it would be like when Agustus inherited all of Caesar''s estate after Caesar was murdered. The people hated the Senators, but adored Caesar¡¯s heir.
While the current reformation of Silvermoon wasn''t the same, it wasn''t any less dramatic.
Already, Varrus had unwittingly slain two of his chief primary political rivals, and ascended to literally the second highest office in the land.
He was practically above censure, and along with his fellow councilors, could write the laws that bound the fates of more than 100,000 lives.
Varrus¡¯ only worry-politically speaking-at the moment, was who was the one who had ordered, or convinced Dakar to levy those accusations against him? Was it the same figure who had launched that powerful Arcane arrow at his back from the Troll War? Or was it a separate party taking advantage of him?
Whoever this enemy of his was, they were cautious. Varrus would have to watch his back for potential assassins, as well as carefully monitor his forces. He felt like he had grown too big, too fast.
While he truly only trusted the old guard who had been with his father since the beginning, and solely used them as his liaisons, many of the House Guard saw him channeling King Theodan from LOTR while defeating Dar''Khan Drathir, and Varrus was certain some of them would eventually prove trustworthy.
While Varrus was busy considering how to best manage his house, and admiring the Blood Elves'' newfound passion for revenge, he felt it.
The dark, nighttime sky erupted with an arc of green lightning.
Clouds came rolling in, and the air became thick, and muggy. Every breath felt dirty, like he was directly inhaling smoke created from a coal power plant.
The earth briefly rumbled from a small earthquake, causing some of the training Elves to fall over, or miss their target.
Green lightning streaked across the horizon to the south of Silvermoon, and great tears ripped the sky apart.
The green energy ripped, pulled, and finally tore a scar open.
Within the other side of the scar, hot, sickly sweet energy tickled Varrus¡¯ nose. Small whiff of Fel green mana entered his pores giving him a slight high.
Rapidly blinking his eyes at the maddening phenomenon, Varrus checked his status to see what had been effecting him like this.
[(Temporary/Minor) Fel Touched: Increase Spell Power 5%]
Varrus hissed as the implications of the buff made itself known. If this was only a small hit of Fel, how powerful would the boost be if he went full on Fel Elf? 100%? 1,000%?
He could see why Kael had given in to the green stuff!
The way Blood Elf physiology worked, they could consume any kind of magic, and adapt well to it.
This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.
Honestly, Varrus was tempted to see if he could create the ultimate being by mixing all of the energies, but that path may lead to exploding into a rainbow cloud of dust.
However, given his UI, it wasn''t as if he didn''t already possess magic from different schools. He already possessed Death, Holy, and Arcane, possibly even Fel depending on where some of the Daedra summons came from.
This infusion of multiple energies certainly deserved further exploration, however, for now, Varrus had to concern himself with this scat in the sky.
If he was right, this should be a portal created from Archimonde.
Varrus never knew that Archimonde went this hard, but he was the number two demon, right behind the big bad himself. So it wasn''t implausible for Archimonde to be on this level.
What shocked him was that Archimonde was seemingly going off script by opening a portal here. In his impression, the demon should be destroying Dalaran, then go on to sack Lordaeron to increase the Scourges numbers, before leading an attack on the Night Elves.
The only thing different Varrus could think of as to why Archimonde would do this was¡Kith''ix!
Of course! The Legion was hell bent on destroying everything and anything related to the Void.
It had only been a day since the Old God minions'' defeat, but Varrus could still feel faint echoes of Void energy radiating from that beach.
The portal began to fluctuate and shimmer, then out of it, more than 50 giant flaming rocks the size of an SUV came thundering down.
Although the portal closed, it was little comfort as the Infernals seemed to home in on the square, aiming for the densest, most populated groups.
While most Elves were panicking, Varrus noticed that Kael, Rhommath, and most figuratively speaking ¡®high level¡¯ characters were composed.
All around him, his supporters and true believers wore looks of hope, and encouragement.
Syra flashed him a smile, to which Varrus confidently replied.
¡®Welp old boy, don''t fuck this up!¡¯ Varrus nervously thought to himself.
It was just fifty extinction ending meteors, was all. Nothing to worry about!
At least there was time to react, Varrus mused to himself as he scanned his spell list looking for another miracle to pull from the hat.
Although they were fast, the Infernals had a long way to go, giving Varrus and the rest at least one to two minutes of preperation.
In all honesty, taking a closer look, the Infernals were moving at cinematic speed, and might even take up to five minutes to impact.
It would seem that Archimonde enjoyed making a spectacle of things, and that dropping his big unstoppable rocks of flaming doom stretched over a few minutes was the sick mustache twirling evil that Varrus had come to expect from a Blizzard villain.
Fortunately at this point, Varrus had both Spell Power, and access to Master tier Destruction spells. Between him, Kael, Rhommath and the other Archmages, they should be able to stave off this attack.
Looking at his spells, there were quite a few good options for targeting enemies in the sky. Considering the demons were attributed to fire, he decided to go with spells that had a chilling or electric effect. Of the ones that interested him, Howling Blast, Static Dome, and Twister were all great options.
Howling Blast was a jet of icy wind that could freeze these hunks of rock frozen solid. Then when his perks kicked in, break them apart into harmless piles of sludge.
Static Dome seemed to be a defensive type spell that created a net of electricity in an area, and could condense into a globe of pure electricity.
Twister spoke for itself. If there was any great enemy to giant flying rocks, it was a giant wind tunnel.
So Varrus decided to hell with it, and cast all three!
Performing the silly looking dance that all Master tier Skyrim spells required, Varrus took about 3-5 seconds to fully charge up, then unleashed a Howling Blast.
As soon as Varrus¡¯ hands released the spell, a jetstream of pure icy wind gushed up towards the sky.
Frozen chunks of air fell from the sky, yet the Howling Blast wasn''t slowed in the slightest.
Thick like a Kamehameha wave from DBZ, the ice-blue magical attack met one of the falling Infernals in a cacophony of light and sound.
Over the course of no more than three seconds, green fire fought for dominance with cold ice, with ice eventually winning the fight.
A chain of perks activated at once, completely draining the Infernal of stamina, in effect deleting any and all of its momentum.
The principle perk, Glacial Prison completely dominated the Infernal, making the work of Howling Blast all that much easier due to the 25% reduction in magic resistance.
[Glacial Prison - Frost spells immobilize targets in a block of ice for 6 seconds, reducing magic resistance by 25%. This effect has a 120 second cooldown, but killing a victim affected by Glacial Prison or Hypothermia immediately ends the cooldown.]
As the Infernal came crumbling down, Varrus looked at his hands with a sense of wonder.
If he was honest with himself, he was the basic wizard who preferred killing all his problems with fire. There was nothing more satisfying than getting that big damage off an explosive combo.
However, he was starting to realize why someone might want to spec into frost magic. Because this shit? Was awesome!
That Infernal was flying down like an old B52 aircraft, big, bad and in charge. But because of the ice magic, it completely lost all of its momentum, crumbled into tiny chunks of ice like what falls out of airplanes, and dropped straight down like a gym bro dropping a dumbbell.
Shaking his head out of his stupor, Varrus didn''t let himself conceited, there were still 49 more-Kael summoned a giant fireball, blasting an Infernal into dust as Varrus took stock of the situation-there were still 48 more Infernals to take care of!
As Varrus was preparing his next spell, some of the other Blood Elves began to act.
Mages launched countless Arcane Barrages, and rangers shot out Arcane arrows.
Lor''Themar proved to be the best amongst those present as his rate of fire was simply superior to everyone else. He would create a hole with one or two Arcane Arrows, then hit the exact same spot a second or third time, piercing deep into the Infernals core. Once the arrow landed, it would explode from the inside, causing the Infernal to erupt in a cacophony of green Fel fire.
The rest of the Convocation, however, were severely lacking when it came to long ranged firepower. Composed primarily of researchers and melee combatants, Varrus was the only powerful caster in the group.
Maybe if Koren were here, he could do something about it, however, he had also just lost his dragonhawk companion, so Varrus wasn''t too sure on that front.
Of course, Varrus found himself incorrect of his assessment a moment later, when Tae''thelon, the former headmaster of the school that taught beginners magic came levitating over. He pointed his staff up at the sky, and for a moment, nothing much happened.
Then, bright white light began to gather around the tip of Tae''thelon¡¯s staff, and ten seconds later, a basketball sized pale orb of Arcane energy shot at an Infernal, and exploded the Fel golem into rocky debris.
Not to be outdone by the only other councilor with long ranged capabilities, Varrus decided to say F it to the Static Dome, it was Twister time!
Taking a few seconds to cast once more, Varrus unleashed a tornado in the air, and aimed it directly in the Infernals flight path.
Interestingly, this spell also fell under the frost tree, and turned every Infernal it came across into chunks of ice.
Varrus also found that he could let the tornado chase after the Infernal like it had some basic AI like some spells in Skyrim tended to have. OR he could reenter the casting pose, and manually direct where it went.
While manually moving the tornado where he wanted it to go was tempting, Varrus had a much better idea.
Why settle for one Twister, when he could cast multiple twisters!?
Varrus was about to enact his mad idea, when Kael stole his thunder, and unleashed a grand spell of his own.
Two dozen mini phoenixes, the size of motorcycles, left Kael''s hands and flew at the Infernals like heat seeking missiles. Brimming with both Holy and Arcane energy, these phoenixes packed an explosive punch! The light generated from their impact was so forceful, it made Varrus put a hand up to cover his eyes.
Once he blinked the spots in his vision away, he saw Jan''alai make an appearance, and utterly crush the final dozen or so remaining Infernals.
Thankfully Varrus had the presence of mind to have his Soul Cloak running once he spotted the enemy on the horizon (as had become habit by this point.) And each Infernal dropped a Common Soul Gem into his inventory. Very nice!
Unfortunately, many of the Infernals were outside of his collection range, so he only managed to snag 17 of the gems, but hey, he¡¯d take it! In this war torn world, he needed all the materials for enchantment he could get!
While he was agonizing over the loss of a few stones, Jan''alai was doing acrobatics in the air, much to the crowd''s pleasure.
Performing a loop in the air, Jan''alai received a round of overwhelming applause from the Blood Elves who could do nothing but watch during the fight.
Some who recognized her booed, or wore stone faces, much to the confusion of those around them.
However, when she landed, and transformed back into a Troll by Kael''s side, all cheers of praise toward her ceased.
Kael was frowning at his newly dubbed Blood Elves, and it almost looked like a fight would break out.
Talk about awkward!
Varrus was embarrassed for his friend, and wanted to stand up for the helpful Troll, however a side eyed glance at his wife told him all he needed to know.
Sorry Kael, but this will be¡character building for you! Helping integrate this girl into your social circle will be great for your relationship¡and stuff!
Besides, the most important thing on Varrus'' mind was that he very much liked having a happy wife at home. Sorry, but not sorry Kael!
Chapter 34
Perhaps it spoke to the wild nature of the last few days, but no one really seemed to care about the massive influx of Fel energy poisoning the atmosphere, or the attack on Silvermoon.
No, the damned smug Elves concerned themselves more with petty drama than danger to their race!
Muttered condemnation, and some not so quiet slurs from the Blood Elves in the square were directed towards Jan''alai.
This seemed to anger Kael to no end, prompting him to lash out.
¡°We stand on the precipice of defeat, our Sunwell demolished, our people nearly extinguished, and you would shy away from the hand that would protect you?¡± Kael harshly said, voice thick with recrimination and incredulity.
An awkward pause ensued, before a Blood Elf stood from the crowd. Varrus vaguely recognized her as one of the Heroes that fought against Kith¡¯ix, so it wasn¡¯t like she was someone who didn¡¯t have any clout. In fact, she vaguely resembled one of the bosses from the Tempest Keep raid if Varrus wasn¡¯t mistaken.
¡°Apologies, Your Majesty, I am High Astromancer Solarian, and I believe that that thing has no right to be in this city. Not after what they have done to us. We all know someone who was murdered, tortured, or worse, abducted. I think I speak for the people of Silvermoon when I say we don''t need help if it comes from her kind.¡± Solarian spat, and despite respectfully addressing Kael as her superior, spoke with heat and venom in her voice.
Varrus noted a large number of Elves in the crowd were nodding along with the sentiment she had shared.
Privately, Varrus had a negative view of Troll culture. The cannibalism, and live sacrifice were big turn offs, and that barely scratched the surface of how messed up Troll society was. There were a few tribes that just tried to get by like everyone else, and could be reasoned with, but on the whole, the Trolls were a bloodthirsty people.
It was easy to write off every Troll as a bad apple, however, Varrus tried to judge people as individuals. True, he had some biases, but that didn''t mean he couldn''t accept a Troll in Quel''Thalas. Hell, the Blood Elves teamed up with Naga and demons at some point, so accepting a lone Troll as their ally shouldn¡¯t be that tough of a pill to swallow. As far as he was concerned, Jan''alai was a badass warrior who took out tons of their enemies. It didn''t matter what she looked like.
But the Elves had been largely isolated for the last thousands of years. When your society lived forever, had limitless energy, and could literally warp reality, it became easy to look down on every and any other society.
Varrus dubbed them as the ¡®smug Elves¡¯ for a reason after all.
Haughty, arrogant, conceited, and overbearing, most Blood Elves were quite frankly, assholes of the highest order.
Kael was experiencing this first hand, as he looked like he was a second away from attacking his naysayer.
Jan''alai placed her arm on Kael''s shoulder, eliciting a hiss from the audience, then she turned around, seeming like she was about to transform and fly away.
This couldn''t go on. Varrus had to do something. Kael, despite his revenge driven mind, was still not firm enough in his rule. He was very wishy washy, and uncertain in his decision making. Canonically, Kael let Garithos walk all over him, and always played second fiddle, whether it be to the Naga, or even to Malfurion when he visited from across the sea. He wanted to get along with everyone-qualities Varrus admired in him-but that was not the mentality that a monarch should possess. To rule, one must step on some toes, and break some eggs in the process.
Idly, Varrus wondered if his father and King Anastarian shared a similar tempo. With Anasterian maintaining the image of a beloved figure, while his father drew all the hate upon himself. Almost like they were playing good cop, bad cop, and putting on a show for the masses¡bloody politics, it was just like how politicians were friends with one another despite shit talking one another when in front of cameras!
The possibility that he could be reenacting the policy of the older generation stunned Varrus almost into inaction, but he had a mission to accomplish.
What Varrus was about to do made him cringe, but someone had to throw down the gauntlet. Every great Hero needs his heel, and if Kael was to keep his beloved status, Varrus didn''t mind aggro''ing some shade. With a name like Vandercross, what was a little more hate?
¡°Halt! Jan''alai! Halt and hear this decree!¡± Varrus strode forth, and gathered the people¡¯s attention.
Some Elves were moderately clapping at the combative tone.
Others spoke encouragingly, telling Varrus to cut off her head too.
Varrus ignored them-as well as the burning gaze from his wife-and confidently approached Jan''alai.
She tried smiling with her typical bodacious energy, but Varrus could see the pain in her eyes.
Varrus gave her a small smile, then turned to face the thousands of people in the crowd.
¡°People of Silvermoon, this Troll, this woman of Zul Aman was a slave. Fodder for the cruel tyrants, and experimented upon with dark voodoo magics. She is no friend of the Amani.¡± Varrus spoke, gesturing at her.
¡°Yes First Seat, that is a touching tale, however, barbarism has no place in our society. Should we allow her in our ranks, what next, shall we accept Half Elf bastards too-¡±
¡°Silence.¡± Varrus commanded, channeling all his presence into one word.
Due to the perk under the Speech tree, Divine Wind, a fierce gale pressed forth, pushing the cat caller into the ground.
Varrus knew he was a hypocrite acting like this, but the world was a savage place. If he wanted the freedom to act, he would have to play by its savage rules.
All this time, he had spent demonstrating to the people why he was worthy of leadership. Be it his generosity at home or his ferocity on the battlefield. Perhaps they still looked down upon him and Kael for their past, and their youth. But that didn''t mean he had to sit still and take it!
Opening his mouth wide, Varrus began to lambast the Elf who had almost driven away a powerful Hero due to pride and prejudice. Sure she was a Hero, and probably a member of the wise, but that was all the more reason why Varrus had to put her in her place now, and in a public forum. If people got it in their heads that they could publicly challenge them, then they would eventually lose all respect.
¡°You have spoken to this body, and to His Majesty with great disrespect. Perhaps the gathering of thousands has granted you courage, or perhaps you are too foolish to understand the magnitude of your error.
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
Am I so weak, that you deign my words easily spoken over?
Today was a day of remembrance, a day of mourning. One marred by a vicious attack upon our city. Whilst you contributed some minor skills towards our shared defense, you destroyed what, one, two Infernals at best? it was we who held the sky up. Your Prince defended you whilst you were at your most vulnerable, and you have the audacity to question who he associates with?
This Troll betrayed her own people because she had seen the prosperity of ours. This young woman, Jan''alai, was willing to sacrifice her life for us, proving instrumental in winning yesterday''s battle, and today''s defense.
Instead of instigating division, reflect upon your own failures. A Troll girl in her 20''s is more powerful than you!
If you, or any of the people of Silvermoon have a problem with this Troll, I invite you to duel her, and allow you a front row seat of her barbarity.¡±
The Astromancer, Solarian looked like she was about to step forward, however, Varrus caught her eye, and savagely grinned. While he didn¡¯t have any dialogue option to intimidate, he flexed the large pool of mana within his body, and pressured her to stand down.
Thanks to the Speech perk Speech Mastery, his intimidation attempts were four times as effective. The Elf Hero paused in her steps, and a slight sheen of sweat covered her forehead. Taking a gasp, she fell back a step, and retreated back within the crowd.
Varrus took note of her appearance, she was blonde and beautiful like most any other Elf, but distinct if one knew what to look for.
He had plans to question her at a later date. Who knew if she was part of some cabal intent on undermining Kael? Furthermore, in the Burning Crusade expansion, Solarian was a powerful Void magic user. If she was undertaking that kind of research now, Varrus could benefit from taking a look at her notes. He had planned to explore most paths of magic, and was open to introducing alternate forms of power to Blood Elf society so long as the risks of corruption could be mitigated.
Meanwhile, Solarian¡¯s lack of action seemed to wake the crowd up, and many of them looked at Varrus like he was some rabid animal that might bite their head off at a moment¡¯s notice.
Varrus milked the silence a moment longer, then nodded his head like a sage dispensing great wisdom.
¡°No? I thought not. Then as my first official announcement as the First Seat of the Convocation of Silvermoon, I name Jan''alai as a friend and ally of Quel''Thalas, welcomed within our walls forevermore. What say you, fellow councilman?¡± Varrus looked to the other 5 members (missing only Koren) with a dangerous look in his eye.
Lor''Themar, Tae''thelon, and Telonicus all looked amused at Varrus¡¯ theatrics, and agreed on the spot, providing a majority ruling.
¡°Your Majesty, will you ratify this decision?¡± Varrus questioned.
Kael looked at him as if he was viewing an alien, before eventually he cleared his throat, and gave his ascent.
¡°First Seat Varrus speaks truth. Jan''alai, I hereby declare you friend, and ally of Silvermoon. You may roam our streets as if they were your own.¡± Kael said grandly.
¡°It is settled then. I know that anger and helplessness have gripped the hearts of many at the tragedy that has befallen our people. I am not unsympathetic to those who have suffered, and His Majesty is a merciful ruler. None shall face punishment for speaking out of turn this time. Now return to your training so that our people may be avenged!¡± Varrus commanded imperiously, and shooed the interloper off.
The danger, and sheer amount of mana coursing around him told every Blood Elf in the vicinity to piss off. Due to their magical sight, they all witnessed the vast difference between the average citizen, and Varrus.
After some reluctance, the Blood Elves stopped paying attention to the Forest Troll standing next to their Prince, and resumed their training.
¡°Thank you my friend, for standing up for me. I-I was at a loss of what to say. My mind is so focused on revenge, I failed to account for our people''s hatred of Trollkind.¡± Kael stepped forward, and placed a hand on Varrus¡¯ forearm to get his point across.
¡°Haha, I am always ready to help my friends!¡± Varrus quickly withdrew his arm.
At almost the same time, he felt Syra take ahold of his other arm, and drag him close.
Kael frowned, but was quick to replace it with a smile.
¡°The documentaries were true. Kind, gracious, and wise despite his youth. You see, Goldilocks, who could hate such an amazing public figure?
¡°I think quite a few people, judging by the glares coming this way.¡± Kael muttered.
¡°Thank you Vandercross, you are everything I knew you would be!¡± Jan''alai said, and wrapped her muscled arms around the back of Kael¡¯s neck like a vice grip.
Leaning forward, Kael lost his breath, and looked up to Varrus for some assistance.
The corner of Varrus¡¯ lips twitched at the sight.
He then glanced down at Syra, and gave her a look that said ¡®see, you have no competition, there is nothing to worry about.¡¯
Syra, apparently, did not get the memo, as her sweet smile fell upon the duo, and Varrus felt her grip on him double in strength.
¡°Ahem, Jan''alai you are most welcome. I would help any ally that was in trouble. It doesn''t matter what a person looks like on the outside, so long as they are affable, they are friends in my book! Oh, by the way, this is my one and only wife, Syra. I planned on introducing her when the four of us went to lunch tomorrow, but, well, here we are, haha!¡± Varrus awkwardly rambled on in an attempt to save his bacon.
Kael was looking at him with confusion, and Jan''alai took in his wife with a wide barbaric grin to match Syra¡¯s syrupy sweet smile.
Varrus palmed his forehead with force. The sooner he could get the moody Prince and the extroverted Troll girl to hook up, the more reassured he would be. Both for his sanity, and the safety of his balls.
¡°I did not agree to this luncheon, I have a war to plan!¡± Kael said in frustration as he broke free from Jan''alai¡¯s chokehold hug.
¡°Anyway, we shall turn in for the night, I will see you tomorrow at noon, Kael, Jan''alai.¡± Varrus nodded, then turned to the remaining council members.
¡°Let us hold our first session in the evening. I shall inform Koren.¡± Varrus said to the Convocation.
After receiving their affirmative replies, Varrus turned to Rho''dan to give out one last set of orders.
¡°Have everything packed up, and House Vandercross returned to their quarters. There are a few Undead roaming the city that require cleansing, and I want our guard to clear them out. Furthermore, reconstruction begins tomorrow. I shall be up early preparing the building materials myself.¡± Varrus told Rho''dan.
¡°And the Mana Stones, do you want us to carry out your plan?¡± Rho''dan questioned.
¡°Thank you for reminding me.¡± Varrus nodded in thanks.
¡°Yes, begin transporting the larger Mana Stones towards major intersections, and allow the people to feed upon them. Require the citizenry to leave their name, and take a picture with a scrying orb. Hopefully we can get a census on the number of survivors this way, and keep track of the population.¡± Varrus said, okaying the plan, as well as amending it.
¡°It will be done, Highlord.¡± Rho''dan bowed, then went to carry out his orders.
Left to his own devices, Varrus walked silently with Syra down some side streets.
He was hoping that his enemy in the shadows would take this opportunity to attempt an assassination, however, there was no such luck. Whoever it was that wanted him ruined or dead was patient.
Coming across a fountain in a small, half ruined square, Varrus sat Syra down next to him, and admired her reflection.
Pale moonlight spilled down from clear skies, bathing the pair with an effervescent glow.
Stroking her hair, Varrus appreciated her silent nature. She was quiet, she was strong, she was his rock.
¡°Your singing was beautiful today, it moved me to tears.¡± Varrus complimented her, and began to rub her back, making tiny, circle-like movements with his thumbs.
¡°One day, we shall sing together, my love.¡± Syra said, closing her eyes as she let Varrus¡¯ hands do their work.
Syra was a little huffy from earlier, but she soon melted like putty in his grasp.
Massaging his old aunties at family functions back on Earth had paid off, and his hands didn''t need to channel mana to be magical.
Syra stretched like a cat, and leaned in to him. It didn''t take long for her to fall asleep in his embrace.
Varrus stroked her hair once more, and held her close.
He was the luckiest man in all of Azeroth.
Chapter 35
There was no rest for the wicked, and the grind never stopped. Teleporting with Syra back home, Varrus forsook sleep, and went straight to grinding the Master level Mana Stones once he tucked her in bed.
Handing out the mana enriched crystals like they were candy on Halloween had seriously dipped into his stock. Furthermore, he now had to supply a constant stream to pay his House, and keep the population in line.
It had been a few days since he arrived in Warcraft, and amongst the skills he was actively developing, his perk tree was looking like:
Conjuration: 69
Restoration: 100
Destruction: 100
Alteration: 100
Speech: 59
One Handed: 34
Enchanting: 100
The other day, he was level 72. Now, he was 128, almost double what he was before!
After repeatedly going legendary with his Destruction perk tree when he burnt down all the Trolls with his Wall of Flames spell, the exp flowed like a river. A river of fire, and a sea of ashes to be exact.
Which was pretty insane considering it was only one day¡¯s worth of combat. Blasting Kith''ix alone added something like 10 levels. That big bug bastard had a godly defense, and greatly helped Varrus farm in exp.
However, the ten thousand Trolls acted as trash mobs, and granted a net gain greater than any one boss. After all, the way Skyrim leveling worked was that to increase in a level, you had to increase a skill.
Skills however, went up based on use, not how strong the spell was, or how strong the enemy slain was. In most traditional games, exp was gained just by killing an enemy. However, for Varrus, if he one shotted 10,000 Trolls, he would get just as much exp as if he one shotted 10,000 Dragons.
With those level ups naturally came stats.
He had been feeling pretty decent on the Toughness of his skin that Health granted, and his base Mana was in a healthy state, especially with the enchantments boosting his Mana/Spell Power.
That left Stamina as the odd man out.
While fooling around with enchants, Varrus noticed that the Strength, and Agility stat on enchanted gear influenced his Skyrim UI Stamina bar.
He theorized then, that if he placed points into Stamina as he leveled, the reverse would be true. He would gain an unseen boost in those two stats should he level Stamina.
As a mage and glass cannon, Varrus was hesitant to place points into anything but Mana then Health, however, he noticed that his reaction time was a little slower than he would like it to be.
When he was sparring with Lor''Themar, the elder Elf was 100% faster than Varrus, and he knew that any opponents who excelled in melee fighting would want to close the distance with him ASAP. In fact, he speculated that if he was just a little bit faster, he could have reacted to the assassin¡¯s magic arrow, and possibly Blinked out of the way in time. Furthermore, agility increased the speed at which he could unleash spells, so it wasn¡¯t like leveling Stamina was completely contrary to his all-in mage plan.
He knew that there would be times-like during the fight with the lynx Loa-that melee fights were almost mandatory.
Perhaps he would find himself in an enclosed space, like a castle or cave, where Blink was severely limited/hindered. Or fight in a locale where magic was prohibited by some ritual/curse. If the mages of Dalaran could create prison cells restricting the use of magic, then there certainly would be other beings or natural locations in the world that did the same.
Besides, with an increase in Strength/Stamina, he could surprise both friend and foe alike.
He could imagine choke slamming a Worgen running full tilt at him, or up-ending a Felguard with a flying knee.
A potential assassin may make another attempt, only for Varrus to catch their arrow mid-flight, and surprise them. Of course, this was all wishful thinking, as he''d have to dump everything he had into Stamina for a long, looong time before he could dodge bullets like Neo from the Matrix.
Varrus shook his head, chuckling to himself as he imagined the faces of some shocked Dwarves as all their bullets whizzed past him.
The other big draw for increased Stamina of course, would be that he could keep up with his wife. Whether it be in bed or the battlefield, what man would say no to more power, and a faster reload time?
Stamina would never be his focus or main stat, but between his comfortable state of Health and Mana, it just made the most sense.
As such, he had dumped 56 levels worth of stats into Stamina.
His new base stats were:
Mana: 600
Health: 388 (initially 420, but reduced -10%)
Stamina: 600
In some respects, he was the ultimate cannon fodder collapser. Huge AOE spells that covered sea, land and air. Oh yeah, he was an absolute monster on the battlefield.
Then when he needed to take on enemy champions, he could simply pair up with his wife. When he fought together with her, they formed the ultimate team. He had confidence that Syra could slay just about any threat 1v1. Fighting together with her in a 2v1 scenario, Varrus doubted there were many Heroes who could stop them.
With him by her side, he could restrict any foe¡¯s movements from the back row, and Syra could go in close for the throat.
Glass Cannon + Unstoppable Juggernaut.
It was a match made in heaven.
Now with a little more speed and strength, he had the confidence to level up Sneak and other physically demanding skills.
It was probably more intelligent to keep all inning on Mana, but he was a prideful man. How could he go around knowing his wife could out lift him? Varrus chuckled to himself as he recalled his first time witnessing her fight.
The way Syra could cleave through hundreds of Undead like it was effortless was a magical sight. It was embarrassing to say out loud, but in his private thoughts, she reminded him of the Heroes of old. In a way, she was his Hero.
¡®What am I even thinking?¡¯ Varrus shook his head, and chuckled to himself.
If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.
¡°You look happy.¡± Syra walked up from behind, and embraced Varrus.
¡°I was thinking of you.¡± Varrus quickly replied to cover up his lack of situational awareness.
As he was sitting in a lotus position for the last few hours farming Mana Stones, and totally spaced out looking at his interface, he didn''t even notice her as he felt her breasts gently caress his head.
Leaning his head up, Varrus felt the back of his head in her grasp. Leaning down, she kissed him on the lips.
Trading a little tongue, Varrus reached back, and meatily gripped an ass cheek.
Syra moaned into his mouth, then pulled back to nibble on hus ear.
Varrus shivered uncontrollably. Whatever it was about these Elf ears, he was unaccustomed to the high level of sensitivity they had compared to Human ears, and he could help but grow hard.
Syra pressed a finger on Varrus¡¯ lips, and winked at him.
¡°Later, my love. For now, I must train. Seeing you so hard at work, I cannot let myself slack. If our children are to survive, I must be strong for them.¡± Syra grinned down at Varrus, then kissed him one more time before pulling away.
Varrus sighed, but nodded his head in understanding. Having a hardworking wife was equally as inspiring. If she could push her body to the physical limit every day, then restore it with Holy magic, then repeat the process several more times, then who was he to complain about his own grind?
Of course, watching Syra do a summersault into a handstand was pretty damn sexy. The way she glided around the room was like watching a cat at play.
Out of her combat gear, Syra was wearing a nondescript gray training outfit. Tight pants similar to yoga pants were skin tight, and showed off all her curves, while her chest piece exposed all of her stomach and lower back.
Watching a small bead of sweat trail down her chest as she exercised, Varrus had to close his eyes and think of boring old things to keep himself from getting hard.
¡°Whoo.¡± Varrus swiftly exhaled, then stood up.
He put these points into Stamina-greatly boosting both Agility and Strength-it was time to practice his control.
As an Elf, he was a natural athlete, he could do this!
Taking another deep breath, Varrus did a few squats to warm up, then gathered the courage to attempt a backflip.
¡°Woa-oh!¡± Varrus stumbled, and felt Syra holding on to him with his face looking at the ground.
Syra curled an eyebrow at Varrus, and lightly laughed into his legs. Flipping him around like a driver turning their wheel 180 degrees, Syra set him down on his feet, and gave him an appraising look.
She was less than a couple inches away from him, and she began squeezing him on the arm, the leg, and even the buttox.
Varrus began to stiffen up, and when he reached to squeeze her arm, she slapped his hand away with an annoyed look, and kept feeling him up like it was nothing.
Varrus scratched the back of his head at the silence. He loved that Syra was naturally quiet, because he enjoyed silence too, but sometimes it was a little eery.
¡°You''re firmer than you were last night.¡± Syra softly spoke, and nodded her head like she had made a great discovery.
¡°Well, that is the truth.¡± Varrus chuckled, looking down at the expanding tent pole in his trousers.
Syra flashed him a smile, lept back 5 feet in a second, then tossed a book at Varrus¡¯ face.
Varrus barely had enough time to react, and swatted the book out of the way right before it would collide with his chin.
¡°What the hell are you doi-¡± Varrus bit out before more and more objects were thrown at him.
He stopped talking as all his focus was required to dodge, or deflect every item in the palatial sized room.
¡°O-oi!¡± Varrus said nervously as Syra went to the piano.
¡°Hmm, you''re right.¡± Syra said, mid swing with the piano, then let it down.
Varrus wiped away a bead of sweat with the back of his hand, only to drop to his back when a pillow collided with his head.
Coming up from the ground, feathers covered his hair, and Syra was struggling to hold back her laughter.
His wife had her lower lip tucked into her mouth, and her shoulders were trembling as she kept looking down at Varrus, then looking away.
¡°Oh it''s on!¡± Varrus shouted furiously, and returned fire with a pillow of his own.
Syra dodge rolled forward, caught the pillow mid-flight, then tossed it back at him harder, and closer than before.
Taking the pillow to the chest, Varrus felt the wind knocked out of him, and found himself flat on his ass once more.
He was about to get up again when he felt a plump pair of ass cheeks set themselves down on his shoulders.
Smooth, almond colored legs dangled down his chest, and toned thighs rested between the side of his head.
Varrus was about to say something when he felt the bottom of Syra¡¯s foot snake its way into his trousers, and rub against the head of his cock.
While he was in this position, Syra was gently running her hands along his hair, ears, and temples.
¡°My man is so fast, so strong, so cute.¡± Syra cooed in his ear.
¡°Mmmn.¡± Varrus gasped, as he watched her play with his cock.
Her feet worked in tandem to rub, flick, and press his penis in all his erogenous zones.
All the while, one of her hands was busy at work in her panties. Varrus felt her juices seep through, and coat the back of his neck. Her scent sent his penis twitching, and drove his mind mad with desire.
Syra leaned over, and a long line of drool spilled down onto Varrus¡¯ cock.
Varrus shivered from the mixture of warm saliva, and smoothness of her foot.
¡°Syra, I¡¯m close.¡± Varrus panted.
Syra¡¯s hand picked up speed, along with her feet in response.
Her soft moans began to grow louder and louder, setting him over the edge.
¡°Ah.¡± Varrus softly gasped, releasing hot white sperm over Syra¡¯s feet.
¡°Mn!¡± Syra gasped at the same time, and orgasmed in her panties.
Varrus felt his hair roughly pulled back, and a hot wet kiss was planted on his lips.
Syra grinned at him, and scooped up the sperms on her foot, then lingered herself with it, gently moaning at the same time.
Varrus felt his penis twitch at the sight, and couldn''t hold himself back anymore.
He pressed both her hands down above her forehead with one hand, then tore away her elastic-like yoga pants around her vagina, and entered her in the missionary position.
Syra wrapped her legs around his thighs to pull him in closer, and was practically begging him to kiss the way her eyes bore holes into his soul.
Varrus clunked his forehead against hers, and passionately explored her mouth with his tongue.
Breathing heavily into one another, Varrus began to thrust gently, eliciting soft moans from Syra.
Varrus let go of her wrists, and held hands with her as he began to pick up speed.
The sound of squelching, and rapid breaths were all Varrus focused on to keep the pleasure going.
¡°Varrus!¡± Syra screamed, pulling his head down tightly into her breasts.
Varrus doubled his speed as her orgasm covered his dick, warming and lubing up her vagina more than ever before.
Pulling his head up, Varrus looked down at his wife¡¯s orgasm face, and felt himself grow even bigger inside her.
Cupping her chin, Varrus leaned down for a kiss, and breathed her in.
He then drank in her sweat covered form, and thrust himself as deep as he could go.
Wave after wave of pleasure exploded outward as he orgasmed inside.
Flopping to his back, Varrus felt a hand rub on the head of his cock. Feeling himself stiffen, he was already beginning to appreciate the Stamina stat. And what better way to control his newfound strength than to push his body to the limit?
Grinning down at Syra, Varrus pulled her up, and looking at her matching grin, knew he had found his soul mate.
¡°I love you Syra.¡± Varrus said, slowly kissing her from the base of the neck, and up to the lips.
¡°You are mine Varrus.¡± Syra growled into his lips, then pressed him down to ride him cowgirl.
Varrus grinned as he watched her eagerly bounce up and down on his cock. She roughly gripped at his shoulders as he began to match her tempo, and they thrust into one another in some kind of unspoken competition to out pleasure one another.
Oh yeah, Stamina training ftw!
Chapter 36
After his morning training, and shared breakfast with Syra, it was time to get down to business.
Alone in his office, Varrus planned out his itinerary for the day.
First things first, he wanted to level up his Smithing skill, and begin the reconstruction of Silvermoon. By firing clay into bricks, and constructing nails, door hinges, etc, he would be able to quickly amass the materials necessary for construction. At the same time, the grind to 100 Smithing would be taken care of rather easily.
Varrus was the insane bastard who would forge thousands of iron daggers to reach max level in Skyrim, so he knew that while it perhaps wasn¡¯t optimal to grind crafting bricks, he would be helping his community. If he went the iron dagger route this time around, he;d be rather embarrassed, who would need 40,000 iron daggers?!
Fortunately they had an architect on standby, and Varrus¡¯ mass production of bricks would go to good use. Rebuilding Silvermoon was important, but it had to look the part too. He didn''t want to haphazardly throw up the same boring gray he had left behind on Earth. This was once a city of beauty, and if he was going to live here for centuries, it would become beautiful once more.
Next, he was going to interrogate Dakar, and see what exactly was going on with Koren¡¯s brother. He couldn''t exactly be mad at the guy for what happened to his father being murdered in front of him and everything. But if you were going to freak out against anyone, do it against your brother. No one told him to drink the Vandercross brand kool-aid!
Koren was a strongly devoted follower who''s loyalty seemed in part, contingent upon Dakar¡¯s safety. In all honesty, Varrus found such devotion disconcerting. True believers were a little terrifying. They might act a certain way, or perform certain acts that go beyond the scope of their orders because they interpreted the leaders'' will to have deeper meaning than there actually was.
For example, a police chief could order his subordinates to hold someone overnight.
The devotee might choose to interpret this as a ¡®by any means necessary¡¯ decree, and go so far as to kill or maim the prisoner if they tried to escape.
A normal person obviously would call for help, and restrain the prisoner, placing them in handcuffs if they attempted an escape.
Devotees for that reason, were a double edged sword that Varrus was reluctant to wield. On one hand, they stroked his ego, and made him feel important. Eager to follow orders, they made getting shit done much easier. On the other hand, they could at times act absolutely mental, and create enemies in their zealotry when no one is out there trying to draw heat to themselves.
On the whole, Varrus was happy to have Koren-and by extension the entire air force of Quel¡¯Thalas-in his pocket, because unlike these fantasy people hyper focused on horse warfare, and trapped in medieval times, he understood the value of aerial superiority.
So it wasn''t exactly a bold statement to say that Varrus wasn''t enthused about interrogating his brother, Dakar.
That was his upcoming morning in a nutshell. Afterwards, he had two more important meetings.
Varrus had a lot on his plate today, including a double date lunch with his wife, Kael, and Jan''alai. It was during that meeting that he planned to convince Kael to focus on cleaning up Quel''Thalas of the Undead instead of charging head first to the south in a mad quest for vengeance.
That boy needed the help of supporting friends around him, but Varrus couldn''t show much affection for fear of his continued sanity at home. However, that didn''t mean he couldn''t help his friend mend that broken heart with love.
Depression was a serious thing for many people, and if he could help his friend through this difficult point in his life, then Varrus would be pleased.
After lunch, there was some time to kill, and Varrus intended to play around the Dead Scar, and see if blasting the shit out of it with Light magic would do anything.
If some lame red lizards could heal the plagued land in one of the WOTLK cutscenes after the battle of the Wrath Gate, then Varrus theorized he had a good chance of curing this diseased land himself.
Just thinking about the Red Dragonflight pissed Varrus off. They could''ve saved the world from the Scourge and prevented Archimonde¡¯s return in one day¡¯s hard work!
Their breath attacks were attuned with life energy, and were the natural weakness to Undead. It was like a Charizard using flamethrower on a Bulbasaur, the Undead would perish in one attack!
Instead, the dragons in Warcraft seemed to be more meddlesome than helpful.
Empowered by the Titans (practical gods of order in the Warcraft universe) the dragons-canonically-were going to fuck over the world hard in the next 10 years.
The Green Dragonflight created and oversaw an alternate dimension called the Emerald Dream. It was a place that influenced all life and growth on Azeroth. They were due to experience a serious bout ofVoid corruption sometime during Vanilla WoW, and would throw the entire planet''s ecosystem out of whack.
The Blue Dragonflight was led by an insane Dragon named Maligos. He planned on hoarding all of the magic on the planet, denying it to all other races. This made him pretty much public enemy #1 to the Blood Elves, and in WOTLK, a war involving the Alliance and Horde would see him slain.
The Red Dragonflight were pretty much afk after their leader, Alextrasa got turned into a slave, and forced to breed hatchlings for the Orcs during the 2nd War. Varrus figured they must have some kind of PTSD for sitting out the 3rd war, and ignoring the Scourge. While he could understand their reluctance to involve themselves, they were the Guardians of Azeroth. To absolve themselves of the Scourge, was to absolve them of any claimant to the title.
The Bronze Dragonflight supposedly acted as time police, and would kill anyone who messed with the ¡®proper¡¯ timeline. In a twist of fate, the leader of the Bronze Dragonflight, Norzdamu foresaw his own death, as a result, his future self came back in time to cause destruction. Meaning all of the problems that the Bronze Dragonflight faced were essentially self inflicted. Varrus was weary of them the most, and was curious if he would ever fight adventurers summoned by them once he significantly changed the future.
Lastly was the Black Dragonflight. Led by a creature known as Deathwing, his entire flight were corrupted by the Old Gods, and he sought the ruination of the world. In something like 8-10 years, he would erupt from the depths of the earth, and cause tsunamis, firestorms, and earthquakes all over the world.
The five dragonflights had all at one point or another been enslaved by the servants of Fel or the Void, and in the span of a decade would threaten all life on Azeroth.
Personally, Varrus saw the Dragons as more of a burden than anything, and that there was no larger threat to a revitalized Elven lead coalition than the so-called Guardians of Azeroth.
He would have plans for them at some point down the road, and ranting about the Dragons did nothing for his current predicament.
He still had a meeting with the Convocation in the evening after all that, so he¡¯d better get to work now.
Taking a deep breath to center himself, Varrus slowly exhaled, then got up to put his schedule into action.
Taking a step outside his study, Varrus was greeted by two House guards.
Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!
It felt strange to have Rho''dan more than a few steps from his side, but he was busy drilling with the rest of the Crossguard in the square that was in front of the Vandercross estate.
The remaining four original Elites had headed out to man an outpost in the Eastern Capital.
Each Elite set up a small base where they could distribute Mana Crystals to the population as needed.
Varrus decided to start with four locations for now to minimize embezzlement. While the remaining members of House Vandercross were loyal, half or more of that loyalty came from the fact that Varrus was the number one mana supplier in all of Silvermoon. Should the pay stop, 95%+ of his followers would desert, and rightly so.
He had been stiffed on pay enough times to never do that to his own people, but he had also worked around enough shady characters to limit his trust until he got to know his subordinates better.
As Varrus walked down the hall and entered the more expansive parts of the estate, he saw crafters hard at work.
The potioneers, enchanters, engineers and inscribers were each given a hallway to work in. Smiths, leatherworkers, and construction workers were placed in a large work shed adjacent to the mansion.
Curiously, there were no jewelers/gem crafters among his ranks. While it made sense for those professions to be important in a video game, this was the ¡®real world¡¯ so to speak, as any magical gem that could be affixed to a ring or amulet could easily be placed by a smith.
The most popular profession amongst the crafters were potioneers. For bored immortals, cooking was the most easily accessible pastime. Alchemy was adjacent to that pursuit, and was a means to unleash new flavors, and experience different mental/bodily states.
Take for example, a frost resistance potion. Any normal adventurer would purchase one if they knew they were going somewhere cold and might die of hypothermia.
A Blood Elf on the other hand would take the frost resistance potion to experience the distinct flavor. To use its effects and do something like boldly go skinny dipping in the frigid north sea, and flaunt their knowledge to other Highborn at the same time.
In fact, most crafters in Sin''Dorei society were hobbyists.
With no internet, people had to go out and talk to people if they wanted a social interaction. Being the smug Elves that they were, they enjoyed showing off their creations, and displaying their skills ostentatiously.
As a result, the crafters Varrus had recruited may be ¡®amateurs¡¯ for the most part, but they were amateurs with centuries if not thousands of years of experience.
Currently, the most popular elixirs being brewed were: Swiftness, Mana, Health, Stoneskin, Arcane (boosting spell power), Firepower (which when slathered on a weapon added a flame effect) and given the most recent war, Trolls Blood potions (which could substitute other ingredients with literal Trolls blood) allowed the user to regenerate like a Troll.
There were many more types of potions being assembled, but the ones that prioritized fighting and surviving against the Undead were the most popular.
Dank smells mixed with savory, sweat, sweet and all other olfactory descriptors emerged from the stinky alchemists hall.
Varrus was thankful and proud of their work, and would one day join them to level his own Alchemy skill tree, but damn was it rank!
Satisfied with their setup, Varrus decided not to tarry any longer, and moved on to the next wing.
Enchanting was the second most popular profession amongst the Blood Elves.
In games, enchantments were used almost exclusively for the purpose of getting a better gear score, and killing the enemy.
In real life, most enchanting was done to create useful devices, or silly curios. Clothes that changed color, devices that could listen through a Muffle, or an amulet that changed appearance were some of the common inventions. If Varrus¡¯ memories could be trusted, there was a famous play about a Elf transfiguring himself with an enchanted amulet to have the appearance of his crushes husband. Needless to say, enchants were incredibly popular to get into, but the learning threshold kept most people at the amateur level.
Even with an immortal lifespan, there weren''t many who would want to learn the equivalent of quantum physics in three different languages. Most people settled for simple enchantments, like heat or cold so they could make their own fridge or stove top. Or operate a scrying orb so they could have a zoom call with their friend.
To this point, it could be said that 95% of all enchantments in Silvermoon were for home use, while the remaining 5% were for military purposes.
Right now, there was a mountain of enchanted Troll weapons and gear stockpiled to the ceiling of several palatial sized rooms.
Inside, the few dozen enchanters under Varrus¡¯ employ were hard at work disenchanting them.
In Warcraft, enchanting was different from Skyrim in that every magical piece of equipment could be broken down into magical dust or other components.
That magic dust could then be used as fuel to make a new enchantment. Many of the materials needed to enchant items could also be found in mines, or from unique/powerful plants.
Disenchanting other people''s weapons/gear however, was the fastest way to get these materials, especially for the Blood Elves who literally did not mine anything themselves, and acquired most resources via trade with the Humans.
One fifth of this material was set aside for Varrus to experiment with. The rest was set to be used on strengthening building materials.
Since he possessed such an incredible level of Enchanting due to the Skyrim UI, Varrus decided he would personally undertake this tedious mission of enchanting every brick, so long as the materials lasted.
Varrus had seen how weak their infrastructure was, and was disgusted that some fire or the brute force of some basic zombies could tear down such a fair city. So he set the enchanters to reinforce the buildings by placing a spell of sturdiness upon every brick.
Should Deathwing, or any other attack come down upon his city, he hoped that this reform would help save the people in the periphery, and maybe even protect those at ground zero.
Nodding at the tired looking enchanters, Varrus nodded at them, and silently left. They still had thousands of items to disenchant, and while in game, your character just wiggled their hands, and boom 5-15 seconds later, it was disenchanted. In the real world, disenchanting was a strenuous mental task that could result in explosion if one became distracted.
So yeah, Varrus had mad respect for the people grinding like that.
The engineers and inscribers shared the same room, as there were only two apiece per profession.
There were actually a sizable number of engineers in Silvermoon, but they were mostly under Telonicus in the Royal Engineer Corp. But it was still nowhere near as popular as the other two crafts.
His engineers were hard at work drawing up designs for buildings, water ways, gardens, farms, and everything in between.
The two inscribers, meanwhile, were studying an old tome, and practicing their calligraphy on a dozen sheets of paper.
Occasionally, the inscribers would collaborate with the engineers, and discuss which inscriptions were to be placed upon finished buildings, and where would be the most artistically pleasing location for the script.
In Highborn society, inscription was the least popular profession. Now in a Dwarf hold, inscribers would hold a venerated position as a rune carver. However, over here, inscribers were seen as the poor man''s enchanter.
To an Elf, an enchanted object was more versatile, and the only thing inscribing had going for it, was that it looked fancy. Everyone liked having glowing words on their sign posts, rings, swords, or statues, but how useful was magic cursive when you could learn how to enchant a belt that doubles your size?
Personally, Varrus could see the value in runes/magical text, but in Elf culture, it wasn''t highly regarded, and that was reflected by the fact that of his 100+ crafting subordinates, only 2 of them were inscribers.
Varrus shook his head, and moved on.
He had yet to inspect the smithy, and had bricks to cast.
Varrus couldn''t wait until he hit max level in Smithing. Just what would be the look on his contemporary faces when he made a brick have Legendary toughness?
Before he exited the house, he passed by one more hallway. Loud noises of pleasure, and screams of ecstasy echoed from each room. This was a place of communal exchange, one Varrus had set up to encourage a speedy repopulation of Blood Elves.
As immortals that had just faced death for the first time in thousands of years, some of these normally prudish Elves became rather freaky.
Picking up the pace so that no rumors of him spending any amount of time here spread to his wife, Varrus kept his head down, and kept his thoughts strictly about forging.
No peeking on super model tier Elves getting it on in the other room. There is only iron!
No listening to that girl who boasted about transfiguring herself into an 8ft tall giantess. There is only steel!
Striding purposefully down the hallway, Varrus kept his mind on the mission at hand!
He could learn how to make Syra temporarily taller (or much shorter) than him another day! Besides...he still had to get his hands on that chef''s outfit after all¡
Chapter 37
Within the ruins of Silvermoon, a group of 52 rangers were systematically clearing the Undead block by block.
Instituting gorilla tactics, they silently sniped lone zombies, or picked off small clusters minimizing the sound of combat as much as possible.
Oftentimes donning cloaks of invisibility, the rangers only appeared once they attacked, catching the mindless Undead completely off guard.
Placed in charge of House Vandercross¡¯ rangers, Helios was responsible for clearing out any of the remaining Undead within the Western Capitol.
Helios was dirty, and covered in grime, but he couldn''t be more satisfied.
Stalking the ghouls, zombies, and gargoyles helped serve as relief for his mental anguish.
He could see it in his compatriots'' eyes whenever they would come upon a ghoul feasting on some remains, or mindlessly screaming into the air.
The disgust and hatred was palpable in their auras.
What Prince Kael¡¯Thas had said the other night had struck a chord with people.
The moniker of Sin''Dorei, Blood Elf, seemed so fitting given their dire circumstances.
Of course some detractors still maintained that they would not sully themselves with such a base title, and continued to call themselves Quel''Dorei, High Elves. But they were in the minority.
Like Helios, and the Prince, most of them cried out for blood! Someone had to pay! To pay for the tragedy befallen his unit, his wife!
¡°Lieutenant, this sector has been cleared, shall we turn in for the day?¡± One of Helios¡¯ subordinates pulled up beside him and saluted.
Helios twitched at the address, wishing not to be addressed by the title of the man that ran. The man who left them there to be feasted upon¡
Taking several deep breaths, Helios finally came to when a nearby House Guard landed roughly in a nearby puddle, and some water dripped across his face.
¡°Very well, we have enough loot, and everyone is tired after spending the entire night hunting.¡± Helios nodded in affirmation.
Helios whistled, and motioned his hands towards a subordinate.
Understanding his signal, whistles and specific animal noises echoed through the side streets, summoning the rangers.
Elves, with their keen sense of hearing could be miles out, and if trained to pick up a certain frequency would follow out the orders transmitted in the message.
Helios grinned in pride as his rangers began to gather. Most of them were retired or amateurs, but they still understood the secret language of the rangers.
After everyone had gathered, a dozen hawkstriders plodded out of a half destroyed building. Laden with chests full of loot strapped to their backs, the typically swift bipedal birds could barely keep pace with the Elves during the return trip.
It was an uneventful journey back to the Vandercross Estate, however, the sound of rubble being cleared, hammers banging on metal, and the sight of noxious fumes rising from the roofs were not what a sleep deprived Helios wanted to experience prior to returning home.
Outside the estate, tens of thousands of bricks were piled into square pallets, indicating just how busy everyone had been.
Helios scoffed at the sight. Making bricks? That was for any Elf too craven to pick up a bow!
Now those practicing their weapons and magic in the square a few dozen feet away, they had Helios¡¯ respect. It was not easy to suddenly switch from 1,000 years of peace, to training for war.
Shaking his head, Helios waved at the hawkstriders, and moved to deposit the loot.
Pressing his way into the warehouse adjacent to the manse, Helios was going to deposit his resources like he had done after every outing, however, the constant hammering seemed to be less than usual.
Had they run out of materials?
Helios smirked, heh, where would these crafters be without the rangers?
Seeing a crowd of Highborn forming a semi circle around one forge, Helios wondered what was so impressive that they weren''t even speaking to one another.
¡°Ahem, I, Helios, have returned. The goods have been delivered. Rejoice! You may resume in your activities my good people!¡± Helios puffed up his chest, and said to get their attention.
However, not one of them paid him any mind.
The corner of his lip twitched, and Helios felt his ego clench in frustration. After her loss, he put his heart and soul into reconstruction, into revenge. The very least he could get for risking his neck was a thank you!
He was an officer of House Vandercross! Only the original guards, the five Captains, stood above him in rank! He would not be ignored!
Helios wore a dark look on his face, and pushed aside several of the crafters. If he was being sidelined, it had better be for something important!
Opening the crowd, Helios easily pushed them aside. The stunned looks in their eyes and mouths agape made Helios think they had been placed under a curse.
Placing his hand in the pommel of his sword, Helios prepared himself to strike within a second. Whatever this was, it could be dangerous!
Finally getting to the front of the crowd, Helios¡¯ hand left the handle to his sword, and his mouth formed into a disbelieving smirk.
Really?!
¡°What''s the big deal? I understand he is our lord, and deserving of praise, but, really?¡± Helios glanced left and right, as if he was dealing with fools.
There, at the forge, Highlord Vandercross was aimlessly pounding away at a piece of iron, beating it into the shape of a sword.
Even Helios, who had never touched a forge, could shape a piece of iron into a rod!
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
The sheer sycophantry of Vandercross¡¯ followers was sickening!
Helios admitted, the former playboy was impressive. His repertoire of magic was terrifying, and the ability to heal limbs was something only the most accomplished practitioners of the Light could achieve.
Despite his hatred for the senior Vandercross, Helios couldn''t help but have a grudging respect for the youth.
However, this behavior, it was pathetic.
¡°Apologies Highlord, I do not intend to interrupt your training, however, shouldn''t your workers be, well, working? How will Silvermoon ever be rebuilt if the people responsible for its reconstruction stand around, mouths agape?¡± Helios said to Vandercross, but in actuality was admonishing the Blood Elves around him.
They were hundreds if not thousands of years old, they should know better than to pander to a youths ego!
Helios all but ground his teeth when not one of them turned to him, or acknowledged his reprimand.
Ingrates!
Was he truly out there, risking his life for them! If it wasn''t for his mission of revenge, he would have hung up his bow in disgrace at what his people had become!
Vandercross then stopped what he was doing, and cast a spell. The forge in front of him disappeared, and in its place was a table full of carved runes/inscriptions.
A runner came in from the side door, and pushed himself to the front of the crowd. He handed Vandercross a bag full of enchanting powder, and other bags full labeled with components necessary for enchanting.
Helios crossed his arms, barely containing himself as the farce continued.
After Vandercross spent 10 minutes hunched over the table, he stood up, and stretched with a weary smile on his face.
¡°Highlord Vandercross, surely this is a jest? You aren''t having a giggle at my expense now, are you?¡± Helios said, crossing his arms, as he was extremely vexed.
¡°Shh, he''s stopping, here it comes.¡± One of the smiths, an Elf widely regarded as a master of the craft, shushed Helios.
Helios wore an affronted look on his face.
¡°Now see here!¡± Helios got out, before the crowd jostled him to make way for Vandercross.
The youth stepped outside, and the smiths and other workers were quick to follow him.
Irate, Helios was left behind, but he decided to see what all the hubbub was about.
Reluctantly trailing behind, Helios arrived just in time to see Vandercross spread his hand, then pull a pallet of 1,000 bricks into existence.
Vandercross did this nine more times, and formed a full stack of 10,000.
Helios raised an eyebrow in confusion.
¡°What sorcery is this?¡± Helios frowned.
¡°No one knows, and the Highlord has refused to elaborate. It must be secret knowledge of the Vandercross line. If only I had access to those tomes!¡± The master smith said in excitement.
¡°Indeed? Yet all I see are bricks. Someone of your caliber is not interested in such frivolous curiosities, no?¡± Helios questioned.
¡°Hmph, keep your mockery to yourself. The Highlord is a genius, I doubt a string plucker would understand the finer intricacies of art if it smacked him in the head.¡± The smith said disdainfully, then walked back into the warehouse.
¡°I beg your pardon?!¡± Helios harrumphed at the crafter¡¯s back.
It was simply a brick! What art was there in such a simple design!?
¡®That¡¯s right, flee coward, you are not fit to argue with your superior!¡¯ Helios thought to himself, and crossed his arms in frustration.
It was just a brick. Fah, what intricacies?
Helios picked up a brick from the stack, and examined it.
The piece of hardened clay was sturdy, and uniform with every single other brick in the pile, indicating that Vandercross had either secretly been a master brick maker, or as Helios had suspected, cast a spell to create them.
Considering transmutation was possible, Helios was not all too impressed with this creation.
Tossing it in the air, Helios whipped his bow off his back, and shot an arrow at the brick.
To his surprise, the chunk of masonry flashed with a pale light, and his arrow clattered harmlessly to the side.
Muffled laughter from the warehouse entrance had Helios flip kick another brick into the air, he then poured everything he had-all his mana-into the bow and let it flow into the shaft and arrowhead as he released.
Covered in blue energy, the arrow brightly shined along with the glare of the morning''s sun.
Helios sighed in relief when he saw his arrow penetrate the protective barrier, however, his relief turned to disappointment when the arrow became lodged within the brick.
He had been hoping for the blasted construct to shatter into a million pieces.
By his estimate, it would take two, or three of such arrows to break this brick into rubble. To the common folk, breaking this marvel of magic would be all but impossible.
Only a concentrated attack from many parties, a mage, or perhaps a siege engine would be capable of dealing any substantial damage.
If these were the building materials intended to reconstruct Silvermoon, then Helios could only admire Vandercross for his forward thinking.
He now understood why the crafters and workers had been so in awe of him. Such a strange way of creating something seemingly from nothing was an astounding display of magic.
Of course Helios knew that the youth required raw materials to make the magic happen, but he was impressed nonetheless.
Helios firmed his lips, and softly chuckled at himself. He couldn''t believe he was praising a Vandercross. The petty politics of Vandercross Sr. had set him back centuries in rank.
Bah! He would maintain his skepticism of young Vandercross, but he had to admit, this was impressive.
Begrudgingly, Helios sheathed his bow, and held up the brick for inspection.
¡°You did well to pierce that brick, Helios. I had just finished achieving mastery after crafting tens of thousands of them. What you hold in your hands is the toughest brick I could make.¡± Varrus said with a smile, and clapped Helios on the shoulder.
Helios slipped out of the friendly gesture, still somewhat uncomfortable with the youth''s informal nature.
¡°Such materials are impressive Highlord, should you construct a golem with such sturdy materials, it would be the terror of the battlefield.¡± Helios was quick to offer his suggestion, and prove his value.
¡°Hmm, something to research. I don''t have much experience animating rocks, and doubt I could make one as effortlessly as I did these bricks. However, that is a thought for another day. Thank you Helios. Now if you have anything else to report?¡± Varrus nodded in dismissal.
¡°Just returning to deposit the latest haul, and catch up on some sleep. I slew 56 Undead on this latest endeavor to clear our fair city, and retrieved more coins, books, herbs, and ore as per your instruction, Highlord.¡± Helios bowed, and waited for the Highlord to wave him off.
¡°Ah, very good. Keep your eyes out for seedlings or rare plants, my wife enjoys gardening, and is quite skilled at herbalism.¡± Varrus nodded, then waved his hand in dismissal.
Helios internally sighed, pleased that he no longer had to converse with a superior, then nodded once more.
¡°I''ll take my leave then.¡± Helios seriously intoned, then turned to go to his quarters.
¡°Wait just a moment Helios, I realize I''ve forgotten something.¡± Vandercross called from behind.
Helios closed his eyes, and made sure to keep any displeasure off his face when he turned around.
¡°Yes, Highlord?¡±
¡°I realized something was strange when I saw you had difficulty destroying that brick.¡±
¡®No need to rub it in.¡¯ Helios thought sourly to himself, and eyed one of his rangers snickering at his plight.
Helios would remember that!
¡°I never had an opportunity to enchant your gear. Come, let''s find a room so you won''t be standing around in your small clothes.¡± Vandercross cheerfully commanded, then walked away taking the lead.
Helios curiously followed behind. Was enchanting equipment so interesting?
All of his subordinates had enchanted gear, and while it certainly helped boost some of the amateurs from useless to semi-useful, Helios wasn''t particularly impressed.
Perhaps the Highlord had improved himself since then, and he would make a set of enchants that protected him like the brick?
Curious about the Highlord''s enigmatic thoughts, Helios followed closely behind.
Just what did the young Vandercross have in store for him?
Chapter 38
As Varrus led Helios to a secluded room, and set up the enchantment table, he began to go over what he had accomplished so far, and couldn''t be more proud of his ultimate defensive weapon.
All would bow down before Varrus Vandercross¡¯ ingenious invention:
Brick!
Varrus had just finished grinding his Smithing skill tree to level 100 after being fed an endless stream of materials, and it was glorious.
Unlike a poor bastard in a videogame, Varrus had no endless quests to grind for money, or fighting to take over a mine only to gather enough ore for two pieces of gear.
No! All he did was tell some people ¡®hey, I need some supplies.¡¯ And they got to it.
Being in a leadership position meant he had to deal with a lot of bullshit, but it came with its perks.
Perks like Dwarven Autocannon: You can create Dwemer Autocannons at a forge or anvil. Use the "Dwarven Autocannon" power to deploy them. Deals damage equal to 40% of your smithing skill.
Which with a few other perks, could fire anywhere, and react to enemies at any time.
However, as interesting as the Dwarven Autocannon was, the Smithing skill tree was actually a bit of a let down when compared to Enchanting.
Armor could only be improved so much. However, with the power of Grand Soul Gems, and even Legendary Soul Gems, Varrus¡¯ Spell Power simply outclassed any armor score that he could attribute to any set of armor at the moment.
So even though he was maxed out in Smithing, Varrus decided to hold off on crafting a set of armor for the time being. For now, wearing robes was simply put, more comfortable, and thanks to the strength of his Spell Power increasing the effectiveness of Ebony Flesh, and the powerful buffs to the Alteration school of magic, there wasn''t a serious need for Varrus to wear heavy armor at this time.
Some people might wear heavy armor, then throw up Ebony Flesh over that, however, due to the perks Energy Shield, and Mage Armor, there was no need to subject himself to wearing a slitted helmet, and restrict his vision in battle.
Energy Shield - If wearing robes and no light or heavy armor, reduces incoming attack and elemental damage by 35% but you lose Magicka equal to the amount of Health lost.
Mage Armor (3) - Protection spells like Stoneflesh are 100/150/200% stronger if not wearing armor.
If anything, he would use this skill to craft armor and weapons for his subordinates or other Blood Elves. He could see Smithing come in handy if he ever allied with the Humans. They could funnel him iron in large quantities, and he would then supply them with quality armor tougher than any normal smith could create.
But personally, heavy armor or even light armor were out of the cards at the moment.
Perhaps one day once he had more free time, he could improve his heavy armor skill with potions or enchantments, and become an unstoppable juggernaut. Or maybe research Smithing like he intended to do with other disciplines of magic. But for now, it simply wouldn''t be economical with his time. Without those potions or enchants that increased the defense rating on his armor, it was more worth his while to all in on Spell Power.
Interestingly, he could still make any of the armor sets, or at least copy any armor design from Skyrim, but he had to substitute the materials.
There was no such thing as a daedra heart to craft daedric armor, however, if he wanted to make the knockoff Sauron armor from something like iron, seronite, or any other metal, he would be free to do so.
Before he all inned on a set, Varrus also had to research the different toughness of various metals. He didn''t quite believe the game logic that every new WoW expansion, miraculously better weapons/armor and herbs/ores appeared in the world. In games, it was common for developers to input new items every new patch that were miles ahead of the old gear. Varrus wasn''t living a game, and didn''t buy into that logic existing in the real world.
Adamantium, for example, as far as he was concerned, lore-wise, it should be the toughest or one of the toughest metals in all of Warcraft. That shit is what coated Deathwing, and made him pretty much impervious to the attacks of four other Dragon Aspects attacking him at the same time.
Deathwing was literally splitting at the seams, unable to contain the power of an Aspect + Old God energies, and the only reason he didn''t explode was due to the coat of adamantium keeping him together.
In fact, from the singular adamantium ingot he possessed, Varrus determined that they were just about identical in appearance to an ebony ingot. He figured if he truly wanted to cosplay as Sauron (the default Smithing appearance for Daedric armor in Skyrim), all he had to do was scrounge up one of, if not the rarest metals on Azeroth, and forge himself a set.
Considering how important adamantium was in the lore, Varrus did not subscribe to the idea of ever increasing item levels, or even power levels for that matter that were heavily pushed in each new expansion.
Another example of this lopsided power scaling would be the power disparity between Zul''Jin and C''thun.
Zul¡¯Jin was a raid boss in the 2nd expansion, The Burning Crusade. For all his power, he''s just a Troll at the end of the day. In the game, he is a higher level than C''thun, one of the Old Gods players defeated in Vanilla WoW. Was this higher level Troll really more powerful than an eldritch abomination? Hell no!
So while Varrus would be on the lookout for metal ores in other areas around Azeroth, he wouldn''t be obsessed with attaining ore exclusive to say, Northrend or Pandaria, thinking it was outright superior to the metals he could source locally.
For now, however, he would lay off on forging any armor, and use his max Smithing skill to craft the strongest bricks in all of Azeroth.
Fortunately, by reading a long, boring essay on the creation of bricks, Varrus was able to add it to his recipe list, and craft them like any other item.
Likewise, he discovered a similar case when he held native Warcraft enchanting materials in his inventory. The local enchanting materials could act as substitutes for Soul Gems, however, they required a much larger amount, and so far, Varrus hadn''t figured out a way to make anything stronger than what a Common Soul Gem could produce. He theorized he needed a different combination of materials than what he was presented with.
Which in all honesty was pretty good. The more he experimented with Warcraft''s magic system, the more avenues to power and innovation would be unlocked. Varrus would hate to limit himself to the Skyrim spells, even if they were absolutely broken.
As far as enchantments went, being able to produce one with locally sourced materials at the power of a Common Soul Gem was a steal. Otherwise, Varrus would be forced to personally murder tons of enemies. That, or be in the vicinity of many deaths thanks to his Soul Cloak. This was something both unsustainable, and not something Varrus wanted to plan around if all he wanted to do was enchant some bricks.
It was easy to sleep on the power of a Common Soul Gem, but any irregular soldier with a complete set was like almost equivalent to an Elite in terms of power.
Each Common Soul Gem could allocate 80 stat points (intellect, strength, spirit, etc), and once that was placed upon a full kit of gear, any normal person would become an Elite, and an Elite would become like a mini-boss.
That meant that each and every brick received 80 points to stamina, the equivalent of 800 hp when judged by the Skyrim UI.
With the secondary enchantment being protection, these babies were tough as all heck!
Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.
Varrus was so impressed by them, he kept a stack in his inventory. Whether he wanted to use them to build an emergency shelter Minecraft style, or telekinetically chuck them as ammunition, the mighty brick was a surprisingly versatile item.
When he saw Helios breach one with a full powered attack, Varrus became certain that Silvermoon, under his hands, would become a fortress city.
If the Elite Farstrider had so much difficulty penetrating one brick, how much effort would it take for another Elite to break down a 10ft wide fortress wall made from the stuff?!
Varrus¡¯ inner tower defense maniac was beginning to shine through, and he couldn''t wait to prop up nigh invincible watch towers in enemy lands. Power them with a master tier Mana Crystal, and equip them with one of Telonicus¡¯ cannons, damn his enemies would cough blood once they learned that these towers could be remotely operated!
¡°Highlord, shall we get to the enchanting, or do you intend to hunch over that table all day?¡± Helios politely coughed in his hand, yet Varrus couldn''t help but notice the ranger''s sarcasm.
¡°Do not distract me, Helios, this is a delicate task.¡± Varrus replied sharply to cover up his absentmindedness.
¡°Of course, I would hate for an accident to occur, Highlord.¡± Helios replied.
Varrus opted to ignore the smarm, and began interfacing with the enchanting table.
Taking stock of his Soul Gems, Varrus noted that he was still in possession of the Soul Gems he had taken from the slain Trolls. Totalling: 3,167 Petty Soul Gems, 5,677 Lesser Soul Gems, 1,200 Common Soul Gems, 5 Greater Soul Gems, 1 Grand Soul Gem, and 1 Legendary Soul Gem.
Varrus was considering boosting Helios with a combo of Common Soul Gems, and Greater Soul Gems, and not Grand, because up to this point, he had only one Grand Enchantment, and it was placed on his wife.
However, something caused him to pause in surprise as he was going through the list.
At the bottom of them all, there was something called a Legendary Soul Gem!
It must have dropped from Kith''ix once he was slain! The giant cthulhu knockoff was practically a demi-god in the Warcraft universe. It seemed that with that status, Kith''ix dropped something much more impressive than a Grand Soul Gem!
Varrus never knew that this was sitting in his inventory, as after he heard the ping of a Soul Gem entering his inventory, he had simply used the sound to confirm Kith''ix''s demise.
He never would''ve imagined that there was a tier above Grand! This was a paradigm shift that changed Varrus¡¯ preconceived notions on the spells within the Skyrim Ui!
This opening of Pandora''s box had Varrus hope that perhaps there was a tier of spells above Master. But with his perk tree capping at 100, he just didn''t know how to get there.
This discovery blew Varrus¡¯ mind, and for once, made him excited to do some research. Oh sure, he had planned to work with various metals, but this was magic!
Varrus had grown content with the power of Master tier spells, thinking all he needed to do was boost his Spell Power to reach a higher tier. He had grown content with powerful spells, like summoning tornadoes, and dropping giant sunballs of flame.
But if he eventually wanted to face the top tiers, he would need more than that. This little nugget of information excited Varrus to no end.
He wouldn''t have to rely on plot, or good luck if he could learn whatever tier was past Master!
Looking at the Legendary Soul Gem in his inventory, Varrus was inspired.
If all things held as constant, then if Legendary was one tier above Grand, then it should be 4x more potent.
Meaning that a Legendary Soul Gem would net 5,120 stat points! That was a mind boggling number that was 6x Varrus¡¯ current stat distribution!
For reference, his current set up of robes, pants, boots, 2 rings, and an amulet came up to 6 pieces of gear, worth 912 stat points.
Divided in half, that was 4,560 hp/stamina, and 2,280 damage added to spells. When compared to the toughness of a Legendary Dragon on Legendary difficulty that had 4k+ hp, Varrus would be able to two shot one with a basic fireball.
Furthermore, he had three perks that when combined, boosted any enchantment by 95%!
Enchanting Master: New enchantments are 40% stronger.
Gem Dust - You may choose to destroy a Flawless Gem when you begin the enchanting process and sprinkle its dust on the Arcane Enchanter. New enchantments are 25% stronger when placed upon an item of the type corresponding to the gem.
Regalia - New enchantments placed upon robes, circlets, hoods and necklaces are 30% stronger.
That meant that this Legendary Soul Gem could output a mind boggling 9,728 stat points! It was enough to make Varrus shake with excitement.
The terrifying power of a Legendary Soul Gem drew a flame of greed in Varrus¡¯ breast. However, the fire was calmed by the drenching cold of reality.
Kith''ix was heavily damaged from a failed resurrection, and took the entire might of Quel''Thalas''s Heroes to take down.
It was a perfect storm of events.
Demigod tier foes like Cenarius, or Mannoroth proved that they could be slain, but Varrus was not in a rush to confront these powerful foes.
He was not worried of his own safety, but that he might lose Syra. When it came to challenging these top tier figures, Varrus would take them on as necessary. Because anyway he lost his wife, he''d go crazy.
Taking a deep breath to center his thoughts, Varrus went over the stat distribution one more time, and mentally updated the Soul Gem tier list.
1 spirit = 2.5 mana +hp/sec
1 intellect = 10 mana
1 strength = 5 dmg on a weapon
1 agility = ¡Á0.05 cast/swing/move speed
1 stamina = 10 stamina + hp
1 spell power = 5 dmg on a spell
Petty: 5
Lesser: 20
Common: 80
Greater: 320
Grand: 1,280
Legendary: 5,120
Seeing that huge number, Varrus thought once more of his wife''s safety, and knew he would feel much better if it modified her gear instead of his. He had perks that would instantly heal him if his health ran low, and if he was within an inch of his life, he had a perk, Emergency Teleport, which would give him enough time to escape any peril.
Emergency Teleport - When you fall below 15% Health due to combat damage, you briefly turn invulnerable and teleport back to the location where you entered combat.
In contrast, if Syra ever ran out of mana, then she was pretty much helpless in the face of the enemy. As much as he wanted the enchantment for himself, love wasn''t about being selfish. Love was about sacrificing for your family.
There were so many guys on Earth who commuted 50 or even 100+ miles in a day to put bread on the table. Who worked overtime on shit pay so that their family could go on that vacation.
Varrus respected men like that to no end, and aspired to have that level of dedication.
So what if he didn''t become the ultimate murder machine right away? He was married to one!
Of course, that didn''t mean he would skimp out on himself. That Grand Soul Gem was 100% going to him!
That upgrade from his current Greater Soul Gem gear to one affixed with a Grand Soul Gem was significant. One Grand Soul gem with the 95% boost would grant 2,496 stat points. Whereas the Greater Soul Gem netted a total of 624. There was no comparison between the two, and you¡¯d bet your ass Varrus was going to upgrade!
Satisfied with his decision, Varrus looked out of the corner of his eye, and noticed an irate Helios standing with his arms crossed, and wearing nothing but a pair of briefs.
¡®Yikes! I''d better get this show on the road!¡¯ Varrus embarrassedly thought to himself, and began to enchant Helios¡¯ gear.
He finally decided to settle on Agility, and Intelligence.
Helios seemed to favor ranged attacks, and used mana quite a bit to modify his bow.
For an Elf, Agility was the cheat code super stat that transformed an already agile race of cold killers into premier assassins. For an experienced archer like Helios, increased maneuverability would mean he could scout, and snipe foes, then disappear like he had never been there to begin with.
The second stat boost was Intelligence, and not strength, because any Elf that could imbue their bow with mana, could do the same thing to their melee weapon. Essentially turning them into a spell blade. Intelligence increased mana capacity, and damage via Spell Power.
On top of the stat boosts, Varrus slapped on the-at this point complementary-protection enchant as the secondary effect for every piece of gear, and then handed it all off to Helios.
The former Farstrider grumbled his thanks, then strode off grumbling.
Varrus wanted to say something, but one of his guards informed him that the luncheon with Kael¡¯Thas was fast approaching. That if he still wanted to interrogate Dakar beforehand, he had best do so now and that he could find Lady Vandercross in the garden.
Forgetting all about the ranger, Varrus¡¯ mood brightened, and he went to grab his wife. He had a prisoner to interrogate, and a double date where he hoped to hook Kael and Jan¡¯alai up.
Hopefully Syra would go along with it, because by the Sunwell, Varrus was done walking on eggshells around his best friend!
Chapter 39
In was a cool, partly cloudy day outside, and Syra was happily cultivating the land in the garden behind their estate.
Hands covered in dirt, she loosely spread some bloodthistle seeds, then watered them with an enchanted pale that contained a seemingly endless spring of water.
Humming a cheerful tune to herself, Syra was all too happy to spend her free time alone in this massive botanical enclosure.
Having spent the majority of her youth alone, and surrounded by nature, there was no environment more comfortable to the Lady Vandercross.
Syra wriggled her toes across some moss, and giggled as it tickled the bottom of her foot.
Within this garden: flowers, trees, streams, waterfalls, glass houses, and even a cave were spread throughout a couple of miles, creating an idyllic environment.
It was amongst the greenery that Syra felt most free, and able to express herself.
Amongst other Highborn, she had to maintain her guard, but here, at her home-and what a fantastic thing that was to say!-at her home, she knew Varrus was out front, and that she could for the first time in her life, truly relax.
However, that didn''t mean that she was remaining idle.
While her husband was hard at work, Syra was doing her part as well.
Primarily adept at identifying and cultivating poisons or magical leaves that could be turned into ink for inscriptions, Syra busied herself by identifying these herbs, and collecting them for use.
Already, she had a sack full of dangerous plants, such as bruiseweed, kingsblood, blisterwort, and imp stool.
When mixed together, blisterwort and kingsblood created a frenzy effect. Syra had used such a potion to great effect against the Trolls.
By spiking a pot of communal stew, she caused one tribe to turn on themselves, and watched in satisfaction as they imploded in civil war.
This frenzy potion could be used against her husband''s detractors. Make those who disagreed with him appear to be the madmen that they were.
Or, when once all four were mixed together, they made an excellent ink for inscribing cursed items.
Syra had spent so much time near Troll lands that she had observed shaministic magic in great detail. Asking Elementals for their power intrigued her, however, it was the power of Voodoo, the power over shadows that held her interest.
As a practitioner of the Light, she had felt this cold, cloying power at the edge of her senses often. Whenever she took life whilst wielding the Light, there would be a nagging feeling that there was another power available. That if she wanted to, she could tap into it, and drain the life from her foes.
Syra never acted upon this impulse, because she recognized it as a foreign influence attempting to influence her mind.
Raised on extreme discipline, Syra would never allow herself to fall for any vice.
However, that didn''t mean she wasn''t curious.
With her ability to speak and read the Troll language, Syra had interrogated countless shamans, and eventually teased out the secrets of Voodoo magic from them.
She learnt that many a shaman would go stark raving mad if they channeled too much of the shadow at once. That strange whispers could assault the mind, and only by praying to the Loa would they keep their sanity.
Syra, of course, was not going to pray to some animal for spiritual guidance.
Instead, she held strong to her inner light to guide her through this madness. She clung to the only thing that mattered in this world. Her one and only obsession: Varrus Vandercross.
So long as she thought of him, her belief, and strength in the Light outclassed any other Elf she had come across. With that same belief acting as an anchor, Syra initiated herself into the ways of Shadow magic.
Every time a whisper, or hint of despair entered her mind, she would go watch a play. Every time thoughts of self harm popped into her mind, she would watch him dine from a table away.
Eventually, her inner light conquered the darkness in her heart, and she gained control of this new magic.
For the first time in her life, Syra had learnt something that had absolutely nothing to do with her mother''s machinations, and it had her hungering for more.
Eventually, Syra picked up on inscription as a means to channel her newfound magic.
The ancient Troll texts she had pilfered detailed many methods to curse their enemies, and Syra took to the knowledge like a duck to water.
Every rival Varrus met on the drama stage met terrible accidents. Crippled legs, sudden hematomas, bad falls, mana sickness, as Syra''s knowledge grew, eventually, none rose to challenge his skills as an actor.
Gently stroking a stalk of nightshade that was growing within the shadow of a cave, Syra looked forward to the kinds of torture this plant could mete out on Varrus¡¯ would be assassin.
Her followers, the Illidari Council, had been sent out to find any leads. She didn''t have much hope in them, but once things settled down, she would personally stalk every single Hero that participated in the Troll War, and determine their guilt.
Any who dared harm her precious Varrus deserved the worst. She didn''t know what she would do if he died!
Because married life was more magical than Syra had ever imagined. For so long, everything was so dull. She had nothing to look forward to. The Orc War was over, and despite being less than 100 years old, had felt that immortality was wasted on her.
She was but a discarded tool in her mother''s plots. Once she had proved her capabilities slaying countless Orcs, and surviving in the woods, she was left to gather dust until Faedra had need of her again.
With no goal or purpose in life, the only guiding light in those times of constant study and struggle was Varrus, and his silly, yet true to heart plays.
Now, for the first time in her life, she had someone to hold on to. Someone to rely upon. Someone to protect.
If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.
Syra had been so worried when that arrow had pierced his shoulder.
From her perspective, she had stood triumphant over her foe''s arm.
They were moments away from achieving total victory, and Syra had turned back to look for Varrus¡¯ praise and approval. No one had damaged the monster like she had.
It was then, at the height of their victory that it happened. The Arcane Arrow pierced his shoulder, and exploded.
For one terrifying second, blinding light obscured her vision, and she was uncertain as to her beloved''s fate.
Syra all but teleported to his side, and held him in her arms, unknowing of what to do.
Varrus had introduced so many firsts into her life, and crying over his body was something she never wanted to experience again.
His back was scorched black, and it was a miracle he could move at all. The mana in the attack was something spectacular. Something only the very strongest of their kind could produce.
Syra, despite her talent for Light magic, was weakest when it came to healing others.
Her repertoire primarily consisted of shields, and imbuing her weapons and body with Holy Light. The most she had learnt in the healing arts, was to cleanse poisons, and purify the mind to resist corruption.
When he forced himself to finish the spell that killed the ancient monster, Syra wanted to pummel the brave idiot for ensuring victory. The Prince could have handled the clean up.
It reminded her of their first battle. She had wanted to chain him to the bed, and keep him safe from harm.
But her husband was headstrong. He was brave, loving, and oh so naive. The fact that he trusted in his fellow Elves to all work together during this time of crisis was endearing.
If it were not for Syra¡¯s efforts to clean up the branches blocking their path, things would be much different now. She very much doubted he could so publicly get away with admonishing a Hero, and member of the wise as he did the night before.
The Vandercross name carried with it fear, respect, and a great loathing.
As much as he wanted to be loved, the people would see any attempts to win them over for the power plays that they were.
Syra wasn''t that old, and if even she could see his naked attempts at manipulation, then those veterans would have her husband analyzed and worked out.
But this naivety. It was precious, and his innocence must be protected at all costs.
Syra regretted that she revealed the details of Sanguinar''s demise to him. She had been in such shock at the emergence of Kith''ix, that she had grown guilty that she had not been there to fight by his side from the very beginning.
The fact that the people had gone along with a youth¡¯s lead was stunning to Syra. She knew how two-faced Elves were. It could only be chalked up to their desperation for a stable source of mana, and to keep up pretense.
Blood Elves as a group were slow to change. In fact, fighting with the Light as a paladin does had been known to their race for eons. It wasn''t until their so-called interiors, the Humans proved themselves to be better warriors than the average Blood Elf that their pride crumpled, and paladins became mainstream amongst her kind.
It was this weakness, this sloth-like adaptation of new ideas that benefitted her husband more than anything else. Blood Elves enjoyed continuity more than anything else, and Syra would do everything in her power to support Varrus.
Already, she had begun cultivating her seedlings amongst the House Guard. Varrus had his 5 Elites that he inherited from his father, distinguishing them from the rest by calling them his Crossguard.
In response, Syra had made note of the most devoted, or those who had lost everything, and had nowhere to go. In them, she began testing their loyalty. It started with small things, such as seeing who was weak to bribery or willing to concede seemingly trivial information for an extra Mana Stone. Once those who would so easily speak out were identified, Syra excluded them from her list. Then, she escalated the tension placed upon them, and used her Shadow magic to probe their unconscious minds as they slept.
Syra had eliminated all but 6 from her list of recruits. These 6 had become the core for her own personal group. She called them the Vanderguard.
Subordinated to her four long term followers, the Illidari Council served as the Captains to this new force.
They served as her eyes and ears within the House Guard, and acted as an internal police of sorts.
Syra admired Rho''dan''s seeming loyalty, but that did not mean she fully trusted the man.
Rho''dan should have died protecting his Lord, Varrus¡¯ father. The fact that he remained alive left Syra with suspicion.
So for now, she would leave external security under his purview, while she dealt with any unsavory elements attempting to poison her new House.
Already, dissidents from other, minor families, or those who blatantly hated the Vandercross name had made overtures against their House.
One saboteur had been caught in the act of poisoning their food supply. Specifically, they were feeding plagued grain to a hawkstrider, with the intent of contaminating their eggs.
Syra had him quietly drowned in the hawkstriders dung pit, making it look like an accident.
Another belligerent had been leaving politically charged notes around the estate, calling for the workers to rise up. That now, with the death of the old government, was the time for change.
Privately, Syra had no strong opinions on Elven leadership. She had been a tool bred to kill. To interrogate, maim, and hurt the enemies of Quel''Thalas such that talk of armed conflict against the Elves was nothing more than a hushed whisper. In essence, she did not care who ruled Quel''Thalas, so long as it was Elven minds doing the ruling.
However, what she took exception with was the threat to her husband, and her husband¡¯s dreams. Syra didn''t wish for much, but the success of her husband, and their shared love was for the good of Quel''Thalas.
So thanks to her Vanderguard, she discovered where this belligerent was holding his meeting. Early this morning, while Varrus was busy training and inspecting his reconstruction efforts, Syra had done some pruning.
Just inside the cave, three Blood Elves had been mulched, and fed to the bleeding crown mushrooms.
She was aware of two other plots within her domain, but had yet to apprehend the mischief makers. Whispers of Varrus¡¯ children were running rampant, and Syra did not know who the culprit was.
As someone who never had a childhood, the innocence of those kids who lost their parents struck a chord with her. She cheered them up and looked after them as practice for the day she became a mother.
Somehow or another, this surfaced rumors of Varrus¡¯ ¡®playboy¡¯ past, and made him out to be an unfaithful husband. Syra didn''t know if she should feel enraged or ashamed at Varrus for his reputation. So instead, she would settle on both, and direct those feelings at whomever was trying to tear them apart.
Another plot that had remained unsolved was a pair of murders within their premises. Perishing under mysterious circumstances, a couple of those employed as crafters had been found deceased. The wounds on both bodies indicated the same murder weapon was used in both cases.
Syra determined these headaches need not reach her husband¡¯s ears. Varrus had so much to take care of, if she could ease his burden, even if just a little bit, then she would be satisfied.
The less he saw the ugly side of their people, the longer she could preserve his precious innocence. The way he looked so hopeful, how energetic he was towards rebuilding their country, his goal to take it to grander heights.
It was beautiful.
And Syra would go through Hell and high water to make his dreams a reality, even if she had to keep her hands dirty to achieve those goals.
She had been raised as a tool by a heartless, conniving mother, but now she was free. Free to love to her heart''s content.
Syra smiled when she saw Varrus wander into the garden calling her name.
¡°Syraaa!¡±
¡°Syra, are you there, it¡¯s almost time to go!¡± Varrus cupped his hands, and shouted as he advanced.
Syra came out of some bushes, and stalked him from behind.
She got within a step of him, then rushed him in the back, and glomped him in a tight embrace.
¡°Woah! Easy girl, I¡¯m not going anywhere!¡± Varrus raised his arms in shock, as he first flinched, then turned into her hug.
Syra wordlessly rubbed her face into his shoulders.
His naivety was so cute, ah, she could hold him like this forever.
Chapter 40
Gardener Syra, Varrus concluded, was an attractive girl.
Wearing simple blue overalls, and little else, her sun-kissed skin was exposed at all the right angles.
If he wasn''t on such a tight schedule for the day, he would''ve pounced on her right then and there.
However, the sun was high in the sky, and they had to hightail it if Varrus wanted to meet his deadlines.
To make it to the palace dungeons in time so that Varrus could make it to the afternoon double date lunch, Rho''dan had proposed that they ride hawkstriders to speed up the 15 mile+ journey.
Silvermoon as a city was more than 28 miles from end to end, and as Varrus¡¯ estate was situated in the very bottom left most part of the map, it was quite the trek.
Within the stables of the Vandercross Estate, Varrus was hesitantly staring the ostrich-like hawkstrider in the eye.
Hawkstriders were bipedal, flightless birds, and the preferred mount/pack animal of the Blood Elves. They were colorful like a parrot, encompassing a wide range of hues, and were surprisingly powerful despite their bipedal nature.
While they couldn''t bear the same amount of weight as a donkey, nor could they traverse as far as a horse, their burst speed was much greater than even a stallion.
¡°Bawk!~¡± The hawkstrider Varrus had been eyeing squaked aggressively, and scratched a talon into the ground, drawing sharp furrows into the dirt.
Oh yeah, and hawkstriders were mean creatures too. They may be similar to ostriches in look and temperament, but they reminded Varrus more of a feathered raptor from Jurassic Park, then the ostriches he had interacted with on Earth.
Intellectually, he knew that he could brain this hawkstrider with the squeeze of his hand, and that gave him confidence. He was still thinking with his monkey brain, approaching creatures bigger than him with caution. When he should have more conviction in his abilities.
¡°Do you require my assistance, Highlord?¡± Rho''dan said from the saddle of a hawkstrider.
Varrus ignored his guard, and took a step forward.
¡°Guawk!¡± The hawkstrider hissed, and reared its lengthy flamingo-looking neck back in preparation to bite down with its beak.
Varrus came closer, and when the bird went to bite him, he grabbed it by the neck, and pulled the bird down to earth.
He looked it in the eye, and grunted.
Varrus didn''t have any ping or notice, but he was certain that this intimidation check passed based upon the quivering of the bird''s feathers.
¡°Hmph.¡± Varrus snorted, then mounted up on the hawkstrider with zero resistance.
¡°Well done, Highlord.¡± Rho''dan clapped with a grin spread across his face.
¡°Spare me the mockery, Rho''dan.¡± Varrus rolled his eyes.
¡°No mockery, Highlord. The last time I saw you mount that bird, you were bleeding by the hand, and biting back tears. This is a great improvement!¡± Rho''dan guffawed, as his grin stretched wider.
¡°Yes, yes, the baby Vandercross is all grown up, I''m sure you''re very proud. I just wish we didn''t have to walk all the way to the palace every time I wish to speak with Kael.¡± Varrus complained.
He had commuted in big city traffic for most of his life, and while there were no cars beeping or blocking his path, 15 miles was 15 miles. And that was traveling by bird no less, without a bus, train, or car, he had to actively pay attention to where he was going, and couldn''t even mentally afk during his commute.
¡°It is a shame, yes. Ever since the Sunwell had been destroyed, the teleportation pads have ceased their operations.¡± Rho''dan clucked his tongue at the tragedy.
Varrus slowly blinked his eyes.
¡®Wait a damn minute. Teleportation pads!?¡¯
Teleportation pads, of course! It was frickin genius, why hadn''t he thought of that?!
In WoW, teleportation pads were seen in the Mages Tower in Stormwind to teleport between floors. It was a relatively common technology known to mages in-universe.
Another example of commonplace teleportation in WoW was at Dalaran. For instance, they kept one location where portals were maintained so that quick teleportation between capital cities could be easily accessed by the upper echelons of the Horde and the Alliance.
It would only make sense in a world much larger than the game to have quality of life enhancements such as teleportation. For an immortal race high off their own smug, and sniffing the endless Arcane magic that was the Sunwell, it would be more surprising to learn that they didn''t have a teleportation network.
Varrus determined then and there that one of the first things he would propose to the Convocation would be the restoration of the teleportation network.
For one, walking across an entire city was some bullshit that no one had time for. Secondly, teleportation would improve defense, and reinforcements could be seconds to minutes away instead of possibly half an hour to an hour away. Thirdly, the increased mobility would facilitate trade, and help jumpstart both the economy, and reconstruction process.
Finally, teleportation was just cool. Varrus abused Blink as much as possible during any fight, and he had always hated driving from point A to point B. Ever since he was a boy, and had first seen Star Trek, the technology to teleport had enamored him.
[New Quest: Cross the Beams: Restore Silvermoon''s Teleportation Network]
Varrus ignored the prompt as it briefly hovered in his face, before fading out of existence.
He had had a few quest prompts since his transmigration, and while the first quest to slay all the Undead had seemed exciting at first, he realized that since he ran on real time, and not on some sped up version of reality like a game engine, he would have to haul his ass in the direction of each and every quest. Yeah, he would love to be out collecting moon berries for Ms. Sunloves moon berry tea, but he had more important things to do, like oh, idk, rebuild the entire fucking city!
Like any true Skyrim gamer, Varrus had more than a dozen quest prompts sitting in his menu. He figured he''d get to them when he got to them, because honestly, he was taking care of a lot at the moment. Even something simple like overhearing someone complaining about the price of food, or some Murlocs causing trouble on the waterfront could trigger a mission. At this point, completing that shit was like pissing in the wind¡and the wind was a gale blowing it back at you.
These quest prompts were an even stronger case as to why he should establish an adventurers guild. Varrus shook his head, and promptly ignored the mission, he was sure it would send him on some easter egg hunt when in reality, he could probably just have the Royal Engineer, Telonicus take care of it.
The clucking of a nearby bird broke Varrus out of his stupor, and he looked up to see his radiant wife.
¡°Are you ready, my love?¡± Syra called from outside the stables.
¡°Of course!¡± Varrus heartily replied as he gestured for the hawkstrider to move.
Fortunately the bird got the memo, and it obediently trod outside.
Seeing Syra radiantly beaming at him, Varrus was once again taken in by her beauty as she was dressed up in riding leathers.
Instead of a country-girl, she looked more like a British aristocrat going on holiday to the Sahara. Armed with a riding crop, and wearing something you would see out of the Explorers League (along with a safari hat), Syra gave off a sophisticated, smug look.
Tying the look together, Syra still wore the ridiculously huge buster sword strapped to her back. As much as things changed, she was still his murderous, loveable wife after all.
God, she was sexy.
Meanwhile, Varrus found he was still wearing the same basic scarlet robes since they had his strongest enchantments on them. He could only thank the powers that be that he didn''t start as a necromancer. Because if he did, he would be wearing a black robe everywhere he went.
As a typical nerd, Varrus was the first to admit, he didn''t know anything about style, but his wife was sexy.
¡°Ahem, I hate to interrupt this passionate staring contest, my Lord, but we really should depart if we want to keep up with our itinerary.¡± Rho''dan coughed into his hand, and gestured toward the main road.
Varrus shook his head to wake himself from his stupor, and swore he caught an annoyed look briefly travel across Syra''s face, but when he looked back, she was all smiles.
Well, that certainly wasn''t his problem, no siree!
¡°Right. Let¡¯s head off then, but before we arrive, I¡¯d like to make a stop at the Dead Scar and make an inspection.¡± Varrus said, then flicked the reins to his hawkstrider to set off.
Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.
¡°Haah, that is your prerogative as the head of this House, but please Highlord, do keep it brief. I¡¯ve never been late to a meeting in a 998 years, and I¡¯m two years away from winning a wager.¡± Rho''dan sighed while pinching the bridge of his nose.
¡°Oh? Have a lady friend you¡¯re trying to impress?¡± Varrus chuckled, and wriggled his eyebrows.
¡°Please don¡¯t make such a lascivious face in my direction again, it is unbecoming of a man of your station.¡± Rho''dan seriously admonished.
¡°Come on Rho''dan, I agreed to be more formal around you, but that doesn''t mean I can''t take an interest in the personal life of my most trusted guard.¡± Varrus shook his head in disappointment as he was met with a curt shake of the head, and silence.
Varrus was a social recluse on Earth, only interacting with a few friends here and there, or playing games online. In a world without the internet, he had so few means of entertainment that he had to make his own.
Besides, while he trusted Rho''dan implicitly, Varrus didn''t know much about the older Elf. Most of his memories painted Rho''dan as a stern caretaker, and ever present shadow to his father. He spoke little, and moved with purpose.
Varrus¡¯ childhood memories drew a picture of a stern, resolute man who had put his life on the line more than once to prevent an assassination.
One memory in particular was especially vivid. When Varrus was first starting out in the theater, a dissatisfied ranger had pulled a bow on Varrus, and shot an arrow aimed for his throat. Acting as his guard for the night, Rho''dan had sprung in-between him and the arrow, taking a near fatal injury to his chest, piercing his lungs. It was only thanks to Rho''dan''s quick thinking that Varrus had survived that encounter.
There was no wonder as to where Rho''dan''s loyalties lied. He was House Vandercross material, through and through.
To Varrus, Rho''dan reminded him of an uncle who had fought in a war, seen and done some shit, but didn''t want to talk about it. Varrus respected his professionalism, but as one of the only people to genuinely care for him, Varrus wanted to strengthen those bonds, and learn more about the people that surrounded him.
¡°Come now, Rho''dan, you are like an uncle to me. Take this pestering question as if it was from a child, curious about his strange family member''s proclivities.¡± Varrus cheekily grinned at Rho''dan as the older Elf rolled his eyes in response.
¡°It isn''t as exciting as you suppose. My counterpart, and head of the Royal Guard, Knight-Lord Dranarus has been my rival for a thousand years. Ever since we were children, we have competed in everything. Should I emerge victorious in this wager, I can hold it over his head for a thousand years.¡± Rho''dan''s rugged face broke out into a small grin as he looked off into the distance.
¡°Then we shall arrive on time, my friend. My inspection of the Dead Scar should not take more than a few minutes.¡± Varrus reassured.
¡°Hm.¡± Rho''dan grunted, then moved away to the edge of their formation.
Varrus clucked his tongue at Rho''dan''s tsundere nature. He''d get the old man to warm up one day.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The sky was partly cloudy, and a light drizzle with scattered showers was spreading throughout the land.
Rain water brought out the smells of the earth, and it was rotten.
Wrinkling his nose, and scrunching his face, Varrus lightly frowned as he breathed in the decay of the Dead Scar.
The landmass was wide as a football field was long, possibly even wider. The line of necrotic earth spanned from the entrance of Quel''Thalas all the way to the Sunwell.
Whether there was a building or river in the way, the line never deviated from its course. All structures had been razed, and all bodies of water crossed due to magic bridges made of ice. Even now, those same bridges shone in the late morning sun.
Powerful death energy wafted off the ice, and ground giving any who trod over it feelings of sickness and discomfort.
Varrus speculated that long term habitation on plagued land would lead to a slow, agonizing death. One wrought with decayed flesh, and pus filled boils forming across the skin.
Any set of bones or carcasses within this zone of death eventually came to life as the mindless Undead.
Skeletons animated by the ambient necromantic energies shambled about without purpose.
Flies, maggots and other insects fallen to the sway of sweet sustenance befell the same fate as many a carrion feeder attempting to snatch a free meal. Any animal, or insect that spent much time in this area eventually succumbed to the curse of Undeath.
The constant buzz of tireless insects, and constant clatter of confused skeletons echoed across this desolate field.
Varrus had seen the Dead Scar in game, but the uncanny feeling of this miles long curse made him uncomfortable.
The depth and power required to curse an entire land was no easy feat. Arthas and Kel¡¯Thuzad were terrifying champions, able to accomplish the impossible.
Arthas defeated two ancient powerhouses, Anastarian and Illidan in his 20¡¯s. The guy had Chosen One vibes like Anakin Skywalker, except when Arthas made his evil transformation, he became much, much stronger.
Kel¡¯Thuzad was arguably the most knowledgeable necromancer in all of Azeroth, and had a mind more cunning, and patient than most. The old wizard willingly let Arthas kill him so that he could bring the young Prince to the dark side. Kel¡¯Thuzad was a terrifying strategist, and perhaps the single greatest threat to the Eastern Kingdoms.
The combined powers of these two utterly destroyed all of Quel''Thalas, and their magic was so supreme, that they cursed the very land, and casually corrupted the Sunwell. The Sunwell being a limitless font of Arcane energy was used to raise Kel¡¯Thuzad from a ghost into a Lich.
Varrus had to go over that line one more time, it was so impactful. Kel¡¯Thuzad was turned into a Lich by a font of unlimited power!
He could only imagine how strong the Lich was in comparison to Kael¡¯Thas, or even himself.
Those two foes were at the top priority for him to destroy, however for now he would see if he could deal with this plagued land. If a generic, nameless Red Dragon could purify the land, then Varrus figured he might have a shot at it too.
Previously when he crossed the Dead Scar, it was in a large group. Now, however, it was just him, Rho''dan, and Syra. Varrus liked his odds.
A large swarm of gnats and other combined insects came crashing down towards Varrus in a giant wave. Their mandibles were chittering in excitement as the prospect of feeding upon fresh flesh sent them into a frenzy.
Conjuring flames in his hands, Varrus unleashed a Wall of Flames all across the blackened earth, destroying the majority of his opponents.
Skeletons charred black, and turned to dust, while many insects were caught up in the flames, and joined the skeletons.
However, many of the insects flew above the height of Varrus¡¯ spell, and were closing in rapidly.
Varrus didn''t panic, as he knew that the defensive enchantments on their gear was more than enough to resist these gnats.
Changing his spell to Incendiary Flow, Varrus gushed lava from his fingertips into the oncoming swarm.
Hot jets of molten earth caught the insects up mid flight, turning them into less than charcoal. Just a drop of splashing lava was all it took to slay any of the bugs.
However, even then, the massive amount of carrion critters poured forth.
Varrus frowned, as he didn''t want to cause a scene and unleash a Master tier Destruction spell in the middle of the city if he didn''t have to. With his amped up Spell Power, his Master tier spells were rather grand in size, and especially volatile.
Considering that, a spell under the Restoration tree would probably be best in taking out this cancerous menace.
While Varrus was looking at his spell list, searching for a solution, Syra stepped forward, and handed her hat for Varrus to hold.
She then casually unsheathed her sword, and front flipped off her hawkstrider. In one fluid motion, Syra stabbed her sword into the ground, and took a knee like some knight bowing to his liege Lord.
The tip of Syra''s sword glowed with Holy Light, then a bright flash of white light erupted from the ground in front of her, and exploded upward in a wave of pure energy.
Gnats, flies, worms and zombified birds all dropped down as light ate away at their bodies like a disease.
Varrus morbidly watched on as the flesh seemed to rot away into nothingness from the effect of Syra''s spell.
Considering all of his magic attacks ashed his opponents, it was quite eerie to witness something slowly disappear into nothing as if it''s flesh was being eaten by some kind of virus.
Syra then sheathed her sword, and beamed a smile up at Varrus.
Varrus rolled his eyes, and messily placed her hat back upon her head, then rapped his knuckles across its brim.
Syra grabbed him by the arm, and pulled him off the hawkstrider into a kiss on the lips.
Varrus half lifted her hat so he could get a good look into her eyes while they embraced.
He smiled at her, and when he was going to pull away, she clunked her forehead into his, only, his forehead clunked with the rim of her hard hat.
Varrus scowled as she grinned at him, then remounted her hawkstrider.
Varrus scoffed, and rolled her eyes at her, then turned toward the Dead Scar. It was time to take care of business.
¡°Both of you stand back, I''m going to see if I can cleanse the land.¡± Varrus said seriously.
¡°You can do it.¡± Syra said, squeezing his shoulder in encouragement.
¡°I look forward to your success.¡± Rho''dan saluted.
Nodding at both of them, Varrus focused on what was in front of him.
Equipping the Master Restoration spell Infinite Light, Varrus took 1.5 to 2 seconds to unleash this spell-which was 2 seconds faster-thanks to the unseen agility buff when he leveled up his Stamina in the Skyrim UI.
A concentrated beam of Holy Light left Varrus¡¯ hands like a kamehameha. Except unlike a kamehameha, this energy beam could theoretically go on forever, as long as Varrus supplied it with mana.
Varrus saw results almost immediately.
Dark black earth began to turn gray, and oozed black bubbles upward, like a pot of boiling water.
Within a couple of seconds, Varrus had completely purified a section of ground equivalent in size to an average work desk.
The way Infinite Light worked, it washed away the filth like one of those power washers that cleaned driveways on YouTube.
The spell drained his mana reserves quickly, emptying his 600 mana every 12 seconds. However, Varrus constantly consumed Mana Stones in his inventory, refreshing his mana bar.
It was oddly satisfying to pump Light magic into the Dead Scar until he saw the clean ground underneath.
Varrus was almost mesmerized, and began treating it like a game. He was looking to see how he could optimize this going forward, and eventually cleanse all of Quel''Thalas when a familiar cough interrupted him.
¡°I am sorry Highlord, but your meeting¡¡±
¡°Say no more Rho''dan, the Dead Scar isn''t going anywhere, I''ll be back.¡± Varrus nodded his head at the House Guard, then went to remount his hawkstrider.
¡°It was fun, I would like to watch you clean more.¡± Syra quietly spoke up, as if she was embarrassed.
It was Varrus¡¯ turn to flash her a grin.
This development was like learning your girlfriend was into video games!
Varrus then winked, and gave Syra a thumbs up, and slapped the reins on his hawkstrider.
He had satisfied his curiosity, and proven that he could purify the land. Now it was time to see what was going on with Dakar, and sort things out.
¡®Hopefully he was but a grieving lad, gone mad at the murder of his father. But if there was some conspiracy, well, then, brother to Koren or not, Dakar would have to take responsibility for his actions.¡¯ Varrus grimly thought to himself.
Chapter 41
The dungeons of Silvermoon were dark such that very little light pierced these hallowed halls.
Dim green glow stones dotted the ceiling, providing enough visibility so that one could see but a few inches in front of their face.
The aura of magic was suppressed such that any Elf that attempted to see the everpresent substance, their eyes would sting in pain, like dropping vinegar into an opened wound.
A shroud of Muffle hung over the hallways, preventing even the slightest peep from escaping.
The only way to hear or speak within this dark, dank dungeon, was to equip a wooden carving, keyed to bypass the enchantment that locked down this place.
Furthermore, prisoners were equipped with manacles that doubled the weight of any who wore them. The cuffs wrapped around the prisoner''s wrists were cursed with a peculiar magic. It was a type of magic initially meant to keep artifacts and weapons within the family.
It was binding magic.
The Elves of Quel''Thalas invented bound gear so that their magical items could not be so easily stolen-either from amongst themselves, or upon the battlefield. This same concept of binding however, could transform a venerated magic, praised for its ingenuity, into a cursed one, feared by any who should be taken prisoner.
Bound items were impossible to remove unless one knew the counterspell, or could destroy the item in question.
On the battlefield, this was a boon like no other. Should a weapon slip out of the hand, or clatter to the floor, it would fly back to the wielder-like Thor¡¯s hammer-should they stray far.
In the dungeon, it was an inmate''s worst nightmare. Forever burdened by the equipment of a prisoner, there was no solace for these individuals.
Crime in Quel''Thalas often resulted in exile, as being sent to live amongst Humans was seen as punishment enough.
But for the rare few who truly angered the rulers of Silvermoon, they would spend their immortality within this dread keep.
Bereft of sun, sight, sound, and the freedom of movement, the handful of criminal Highborn who graced this dungeon had gone mad within these cells.
The threat of the Royal Dungeon was so palpable, so scandalous, that the mere mention of it was often enough to shut up the most conspiratorial of Elves.
Typical punishments for theft or minor acts of violence resulted in days to weeks of solitary confinement.
Such rare occurrences such as an incarceration often gathered crowds of hecklers who stared and gawked. Parents would show their children the prisoner before, and after, using the image as a tale to behave at home.
It was within such a notorious locale that Varrus currently found himself. Syra had gone off to handle some business in the city, while Varrus was accompanied by Rho''dan, and the leader of the Royal Guards, Knight-Lord Dranarus.
Wearing a hood over his head that acted as a voice modulator, and randomly altered his height by + or -2 inches, Varrus obscured his identity as he followed behind the guards.
It was overkill in Varrus¡¯ opinion, given the prisoners'' low visibility. However, it had been protocol for thousands of years, and he wasn''t about to fight tradition unless it was something excessively stupid.
Taking the lead, Rho''dan was rubbing elbows with his old time rival, and he looked none too pleased.
The Knight-Lord was an extremely serious looking Elf set in ornate plate armor, and sporting a black ponytail.
However, despite his serious appearance, Dranarus spoke to Rho''dan with seeming levity.
"So I was in line to the Mana Crystal dispenser earlier today with some paranoid guy in front of me and all of the sudden he just starts screaming! Didn''t even try to disguise his madness! I don''t know when he last had some mana, but I thought, ''What have YOU been smoking!?''¡± Dranarus wildly gestured with his hands as he told the story, and ended it by punching Rho''dan playfully on the shoulder.
¡°Hm.¡± Rho''dan grunted in response.
¡°I had to settle him down of course. The poor sod had skin gray as a ghoul, yet he was still alive! Craziest thing!¡± Dranarus then leaned in conspiratorially, yet didn''t lower his volume whatsoever. ¡°There''s been reports of people like this popping up, the magisters call them the Wretched.¡±
¡°This is hardly the place for gossip, Knight-Lord. First Seat Vandercross is here for a serious matter. Please refrain from further discussion.¡± Rho''dan replied curtly.
¡°Come now, the councilor doesn''t mind a bit of gossip, does he? His father loved my stories!¡± Dranarus heartily laughed as he turned back to nod at, and acknowledge Varrus.
¡°Yes, Rho''dan, I would very much like to hear what insights the Knight-Lord has to share with us. Tell me more about these Wretched.¡± Varrus said smugly while Rho''dan completely turned his back on him, and picked up the pace towards Dakar''s cell.
¡°Oh the Wretched, let me tell you all about them¡¡±
A 15 minute trek later, and Varrus all but cheered once they had finally reached their reason for coming to this dark hellhole.
Dranarus was informative, more informative than Varrus would have liked. In short, the Knight-Lord was a chatterbox of the highest order.
He could see why his father valued him. In-between all the personal life stories, there was a surprising amount of layered information.
In one day, Dranarus had put down a revolt, and arrested countless mana starved Blood Elves who were in the process of transforming into the magical crack vampires known as Wretched.
Once a Blood Elf lost that tap of mana, it would only be a matter of time before they transitioned into mana crazed lunatics.
The event Dranarus described to Varrus was startling, and only served to illustrate the importance of his Mana Stones.
Nodding to himself, Varrus realized that there were still an unknown number of Blood Elves cutoff from Silvermoon, and suffering within the towns, villages, and hamlets scattered throughout Quel''Thalas.
Kael¡¯Thas¡¯ priority may be to laser focus on killing Arthas, thereby avenging their people. However, in doing so, the Prince would be ignoring the plight of his people, and that was something Varrus could not allow.
Varrus nodded to himself, and was even more determined to set his friend straight at lunch.
However, he had an interrogation to get too.
As soon as Dranarus was about to unlock the cell, it opened from the inside, and a familiar Elf walked out.
¡°Commander Brightwing, what an unexpected surprise.¡± Varrus said in genuine shock.
What purpose would the Farstrider Commander have for visiting a political dissident. A high profile dissident who had slandered Varrus in front of all of Silvermoon no less!
Halduron looked uncomfortable as he side eyed Dranarus, then gave Varrus a brief, yet meaningful look.
¡°As Commander of the Farstriders, it is my job to oversee the safety and security of Quel''Thalas. First Seat, gentleman.¡± Halduron said hurriedly, then swiftly departed.
Varrus pursed his lips, genuinely curious as to why Halduron would be down here. While true, the Ranger Corp was responsible for the safety and security of the realm.
The few times the Rangers interacted within a law enforcement capacity was when they tracked someone-or something-down. Otherwise, they mostly kept the roads and forests clear of Trolls, and dangerous beasts.
In fact, the more Varrus thought about it, the more suspicious he became.
What the hell was Halduron doing in there? A hoodless Halduron at that. The Ranger Commander had gone about with his identity revealed, unlike Varrus and Rho''dan.
Was he acquainted with Dakar? Were they friends, or related in some way? The Ranger Corp and dragonhawk knights often worked hand in hand. It certainly was plausible that Halduron had made inroads with Dakar, or his father at some point.
If so, was Halduron, perhaps in cahoots with, or masterminding this campaign against Varrus?!
It was an Arcane Arrow that threatened his life on the beach after all. Who better than the future Ranger General to launch such an attack?!
Varrus almost about-faced and went to confront Halduron that very moment, however, Dranarus was ushering him inside the cell, and Varrus was determined to speak with Koren¡¯s twin brother.
He could always seek out Halduron whenever he pleased, going down this dungeon was unpleasant to say the least. The less time he had to spend down here the better. So he figured he¡¯d better just man up, and get this interrogation out of the way.
¡°Don''t take too long, councilor. I''ll be outside if you need me.¡± Dranarus cheerfully grinned, then shut the door.
¡°Beware anything Dranarus says. It is 90% hearsay and self aggrandizement. He is a legendary gossip, and is notorious for hiding behind a smile.¡± Rho''dan cautioned as soon as they entered the room.
Varrus rolled his eyes beneath his hood. Were there no honest Elves in this kingdom?!
He had thought Rho''dan was simply being cold towards his rival, Varrus should''ve known better that one of the men closest to the previous King wouldn''t be so loose lipped.
They then turned around to study Dakar. Mute due to lacking a wooden talisman necklace, Rho''dan draped one around the dragonhawk knight''s neck.
Dakar glared at them for a moment, then opened his mouth to spit out a string of insults.
¡°More goons sent by the boy councilor. Publicly disparaging a public official can only be met with a week''s punishment. You''d best leave.¡± The handsome, blonde pretty boy huffed, and kept his eyes lowered toward the ground in disinterest.
¡°And if I wanted you to talk?¡± Varrus said, stepping forward menacingly with a fireball resting in his hand.
In response, Dakar mockingly laughed.
¡°You are actually threatening me? Disregarding my family pedigree, such petty tricks are against the law. We both know you cannot! Hiee!¡± Dakar howled in pain mid mockery as Rho''dan stepped forward, and fluidly dislocated Dakar¡¯s shoulder in one quick motion.
¡°Y-you fool will end up in the cell next to me for breaking this tenant!¡± Dakar howled through the pain, and glared hatefully at Rho''dan.
Varrus rapidly blinked his eyes at the sudden development. He had been threatening Dakar without the intention of ever actually harming him, because he did not want to damage ties to Koren. Who knew Rho''dan would go psycho killer on him, and dislocate Dakar''s arm without any hesitation.
Varrus then looked to Rho''dan to see if Dakar''s words were true, to which the elder Elf slightly nodded.
¡°It is true, even the King would sit in a cell for a day if he damaged his prisoner. Visibly, that is.¡± Rho''dan
¡°I have a feeling you''ve done this more times than I care to know.¡± Varrus said, still somewhat shaken by the unexpected violence.
Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.
¡°The less said, the better. However, my expertise have been honed over a millenia.¡± Rho''dan said, then punctuated his statement with a punch to Dakar¡¯s gut.
¡°What are you doing? You haven''t even asked me any-oh!¡± Dakar began, only to have the air driven from him as Rho''dan pressed down on his sternum, preventing the rise and fall of his chest.
¡°The purpose of this exercise is control.¡± Rho''dan said to Varrus as if he was giving a PowerPoint lecture.
¡°Now Dakar, breath in if you can hear me. Then hold it for a minute.¡± Rho''dan commanded as he lifted his hand off Dakar¡¯s chest.
The dragonhawk knight eagerly gasped, and tried to hyperventilate so he could get as much air into his system as possible.
Rho¡¯dan clucked his tongue, then shoved her bear-like palms onto Dakar¡¯s chest, restricting his breath once more.
After several more struggles between the two, Dakar resentfully followed Rho''dan¡¯s orders.
¡°Good, now who do you work for?¡± Rho''dan questioned as he popped Dakar''s arm back into its socket.
¡°I¡work for no one, no man pulls my strings! Can''t you people see the evils of Vandercross? Or has he brainwashed you two, like he has my brother?¡± Dakar spat angrily.
Varrus raised his hand to halt Rho''dan from pressing down again.
¡°You expect us to believe that it was your idea to speak in front of everyone? You may be skilled on a dragonhawk, Dakar, but even you must know of the gamble you took, the enemy you had made. I pity you.¡± Varrus questioned, curiosity tinging his voice.
¡°The enemy I made?! What, did your master think me so stupid that I would roll over after the death of my father? Ha!¡± Dakar laughed incredulously.
Varrus pursed his lips as he took in the hurt outrage emanating from Dakar.
Considering that Varrus¡¯ identity was concealed at this moment, he might as well attempt to act as the good cop to Rho''dan''s bad cop.
¡°Look, Dakar, I apologize for my compatriots'' rough attitude. Tensions have run high given the events of the last week. We are concerned that someone seeks the internal destruction of our race, and are using you as a pawn.¡± Varrus said softly.
During his speech, Varrus took out some cookies that his wife had baked earlier, as well as a plate. Coming directly from his inventory, the baked goods were still fresh, their smell completely occupied the cell.
¡°Me a pawn? Yes, I do suppose I am.¡± Dakar muttered to himself.
Varrus¡¯ ears twitched at that. So there were accomplices?! He almost broke character, and stared at Rho''dan to get his reaction, but he maintained his focus, and slipped a cookie underneath his hood for a bite.
Delicious!
Not only could Syra cook, but she could bake as well!
For a moment there, Varrus lost himself in the divine pleasure that was entering his mouth. Gooey chocolate chips met soft-yet firm-doe that held up without crumbling.
Oh how he wished he had some milk.
¡°You intend to bribe me with cookies? I am not some child who is swayed by confectionery treats.¡± Dakar turned his head away, and complained.
¡°Hmm? Mmm, mn, oh, don''t mind, mn, me, I''m simply enjoying a snack. Would you like some?¡± Varrus ignored Dakar, and tore a piece off, holding it beneath the dragonhawk knight''s nose.
Dakar opened his eyes wide at the smell, then reluctantly turned his head away.
¡°You devils are cruel. I had heard rumors that the Royal Dungeon could change a man. I believed them to be false. Now I see the truth with my own eyes.¡± Dakar laughed bitterly as if Varrus had stolen all of his money.
¡°....¡± Varrus blinked owlishly and could only continue to munch on his cookie in silence.
¡°Should I?¡± Rho''dan gestured, only to have Varrus wave him off.
It seemed that acting as the good cop was out of the window, and Varrus would have to resort to magical means if he wanted to pry the information he desired out of Dakar.
Varrus hated causing pain to others, much more, he hated torture. If he had an enemy, under most circumstances, he''d rather give them a clean death, then draw out their suffering.
If Varrus was desperate, or in fear of Syra''s life, he might be willing to cross some terrible threshold, such as repeatedly bringing someone on the verge of death, then healing them repeatedly, or other imaginative methods. However, thanks to the spells under the Illusion skill tree, Varrus had options.
Unfortunately, within the Royal Palace, Varrus was under the status condition [All spells cost +90%].
However, that wasn''t so much an issue when he had the perk, Intuitive Magic.
Intuitive Magic: Novice/Apprentice spells of any school cost 100% less Magicka to cast.
While he considered casting the Apprentice spell Illusory Flames, Varrus would only use it as a last resort.
Illusory Flames: Concentrate to deal 30% of their current Health as temporary damage that wears off after 2 seconds.
It was a horrible thing to make someone experience the pain of burning alive. In some ways, it may even be worse than real fire, because an Illusion spell did not damage nerves, meaning the pain was felt 100%.
Instead, Varrus intended to try the more ¡®innocuous¡¯ spells: Calm, Fear, Fury, and Courage.
Lighting a bright red light in his hand, Varrus looked down at Dakar in pity.
The guy had lost his father, and ultimately was an innocent player in all of this. Sure, he had openly declared himself to be an enemy, but that didn''t mean Varrus liked doing any of this.
¡°This is your last chance, Dakar. I am a tolerant man, and am sympathetic towards your plight. I lost my parents the day the Scourge attacked. The fact that I will never see them and all my friends again, it makes me sick. So sick, I¡¯m willing to do anything to see that I don¡¯t lose the friends and loved ones I¡¯ve made in the last couple of days.¡±
¡°Begone minion, I will not break.¡± Dakar spat.
¡°Very well. This spell in my hands will unleash your most deep seated fears made manifest. Prepare yourself.¡± Varrus said with untold seriousness.
¡°Bluff all you waaaaa¡ª¡± Dakar got out before he started screaming in extreme fear.
Dakar struggled in his chains like a man possessed, thrashing left and right, but there was no relief from the excruciating mental anguish.
In Skyrim, the Illusion spells almost seemed useless at times. All Fear really did, was force the enemy to run away. In reality, Fear was perhaps one of the most sinister applications of magic.
Varrus speculated that the entire Illusion tree of magic was adjacent, or directly related to Shadow magic. Influencing the mind, and senses was right up the Void¡¯s alleyway.
Watching the look of horror manifest upon Dakar¡¯s face, and the puddle of piss slowly drenching his robes, Varrus knew that he had done enough.
After a minute had passed, Varrus shot out the Calm spell at Dakar, canceling out the effects of Fear.
The man was shivering in place, and had backed up to the corner of his cell, or as far as his chains would let him anyway. His eyes shifted left and right like some sort of caged animal.
Even Rho''dan maintained his silence at Varrus¡¯ astonishing brutality. However, that didn''t stop the veteran from retrieving a scrying orb. Whilst Dakar was at his most shell shocked and vulnerable, Rho''dan maintained his professionalism, and prepared to record any confession.
After a moment had passed, Varrus sighed, and held his hand up to Dakar''s face.
¡°Talk.¡±
Dakar closed his eyes, and Varrus pursed his lips.
¡®Please don''t make me do this again man.¡¯ Varrus thought to himself as he stared the pretty boy in the face, moments away from unleashing Fear.
Rho''dan gripped Varrus by the arm, causing Varrus to misfire, and harmlessly impacted the cell wall with his spell.
Varrus looked curiously at Rho''dan.
¡°He has had enough.¡± Rho''dan gestured.
Varrus quirked an eyebrow at the role reversal, but he did not mind.
Set Varrus against some Undead or Trolls any day on an open field. This dungeon work, it was nasty business.
¡°Dakar, look at me Dakar, I recall you said it was no man who ordered you. You said you had an accomplice.¡± Rho''dan said, positioning himself between Varrus and Dakar¡¯s line of sight.
¡°...It was a lady.¡± Dakar said after some time. His words carried defeat, and self loathing as he hung his head low.
¡°Describe her appearance, where did you meet, can you contact her?!¡± Varrus demanded.
¡°I know not what she looks like, and had met her within my bed chambers. One moment she was there, informing me of an opportunity to strike against Vandercross, the next she was gone. That''s all I know.¡± Dakar finished tiredly.
¡°You intend to strike against the Highlord? You wish not only to discredit him, but to see him dead, don¡¯t you?¡± Rho''dan pressed.
Varrus arched an eyebrow, curious as to what Rho''dan was getting at. They knew this much didn''t they?
¡°Will you torture me again if I say yes?¡± Dakar bitterly intoned as he glanced at Varrus, then hatefully flinched away, and looked back to the floor.
Varrus sighed at the nonanswer. They were so close!
Deciding on a gamble, Varrus walked out of Dakar¡¯s line of sight, and tossed out Fury at Dakar¡¯s back.
The dragonhawk knight sat up straight, and his defiant streak seemed to come back.
Rho''dan caught upon this change in behavior, and adjusted his questioning accordingly.
¡°What do you have to fear? According to you, Vandercross murdered your father. Don''t you want revenge? Isn''t your goal the complete and utter destruction of House Vandercross?¡± Rho''dan calmly asked.
¡°Of course it is. I would see him suffer a thousand cuts, a thousand, thousand times the pain done to me, dealt upon his wife! I want to see him in agony like no other!¡± Dakar strained against his chains, and clenched his fists in anger as he roared like a madman.
¡°That¡¯s all I needed to hear.¡± Rho''dan finished as he turned around, and began to fiddle with the scrying orb.
Varrus frowned, although Fury amplified a person''s anger, it didn''t necessarily create something from nothing. Everything that Dakar said was straight from the heart.
Taking that into consideration, Varrus could accept attempts on his life, but any threat to his wife was off limits.
He would have to seriously consider how he wanted to handle the dragonhawk knight.
Varrus truly wanted to keep Koren and the Quel''Thalas airforce under his control, but the scales were heavily tipping against Dakar.
Whilst he was busy internalizing these thoughts, Rho''dan removed the wooden talisman hanging around Dakar¡¯s neck, shrouding the dragonhawk knight once more in a perpetual state of Muffle, unable to hear or see anything within his vicinity.
¡°Do you suspect my mother-in-law to play some part in this?¡± Varrus questioned, worried that his fears might be true.
That lady had ultimate stealth capabilities that bypassed his Detect Life spell, and could disappear like Batman. She was not someone Varrus was prepared to deal with.
¡°It is hard to say, Faedra has played against both your father, and King Anasterian in the past. Perhaps it is as Lady Vandercross claimed earlier, and that this was Faedra¡¯s plot all along. To what end, and its connection to the attempt on your life, I cannot say. But something rotten is going on, and this is too sloppy to have her hands on it. I suspect a third party is interfering.¡± Rho''dan stroked his chin in thought, and gave his analysis.
¡°This is frustrating to say the least. What does Faedra stand to gain by setting this up? Am I being tested, or is this some warning? And what part does Halduron play in all this? Is he a friend, mastermind, or is he seeking a potential collaborator? Perhaps he is the third party?¡± Varrus said, stroking his chin in thought.
¡°If you wish, we can continue with this interrogation.¡± Rho''dan suggested.
¡°No, we must still make time for the luncheon, you must be on time after all.¡± Varrus chuckled at Rho''dan and his rivalry with the Chief Royal Guard¡¯s rivalry.
Rho''dan remained dutifully silent, seeming to ignore Varrus¡¯ jab.
¡°You¡¯re no fun.¡± Varrus sighed.
¡°In my experience, it is best to stay focused.¡± Rho''dan said tersely.
¡°You''re right. What was Dakar going on about saying he would be released in a week, is that true? An enemy Hero causing chaos at our flanks, and stirring trouble at home is the last thing I want at the moment.¡± Varrus said in frustration, practically tearing at his hair from the hot mess allying with Koren had landed him in.
¡°I cannot speak to Faedra or Halduron¡¯s involvement, however, your speculation on Dakar is most amusing Highlord.¡± Rho''dan chuckled in a low tone of voice.
¡°What is so amusing about a ticking time bomb waiting to catch us in the back?¡± Varrus growled at his trusted bodyguard.
¡°Dakar shall not be leaving in merely a week. He admitted to a plot to assassinate the First Seat! As you control the courts, his fate is in your hands.¡± Rho''dan said with amusement as he showed Varrus a masterfully edited clip of Dakar ¡®confessing¡¯ his crimes.
¡°Well I¡¯ll be damned, wherever did you pick up such skills?¡± Varrus said, impressed by the seamless transition of dialogue.
¡°Working as the First Seat¡¯s chief guard comes with many responsibilities. You need not worry yourself with such trivial matters, my Lord.¡± Rho''dan slightly bowed towards Varrus.
¡°...Very well, come Rho''dan, let us leave this damned place.¡± Varrus threw up his hands, and sighed as he walked towards the door.
¡°Your father would be proud, you know. The more you take matters into your own hands, the more you resemble him. I am excited to see you grow up so quickly.¡± Rho''dan said with emotion, like an uncle praising a nephew after taking over the family business. Except the family business was the Mob.
Varrus replied with silence.
He felt somewhat sick in his stomach due to the comparison, and kept his back turned to Rho''dan as he knocked on the cell door, signaling their release.
Everything he did, it was for the survival of their race, and the safety of his family.
Old man Vandercross had nothing on him! They were nothing alike! Varrus gave Mana Stones freely, and secured the lives of tens of thousands. One day, he would make Quel''Thalas a global kingdom, one that was respected by everyone! He wasn''t a perfect person, but he did good by the people!
At least, that''s what Varrus convinced himself as he left the dreary, damp, dank Royal Dungeon.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
All while Varrus fretted over the justness of his cause, Rho''dan could not be more proud. In his view, Varrus was finally growing acclimated to Highborn politics.
There was no forging greatness without cracking a few eggs along the way. If the boy was to learn how to play the game, he couldn''t be nice to everybody, he would have to get his hands dirty.
It was only a matter of time until his liege took their people to greater heights.
Rho''dan had been cooped up in Silvermoon, he could hardly wait to enter the wider world, and get his feet wet.
With Varrus at the helm, a new golden age was sure to follow.
Chapter 42
Kael¡¯Thas sat in his father''s study, and idly toyed with the broken blade of his ancestors, Felo''melorn.
The room was spartan, depicting a portrait of his grandfather, and as of today, joined by a portrait of his father too.
Otherwise, there were no decorations of note within this room.
Resting upon the desk in front of him was a pair of maps. They depicted the two primary provinces of the realm, and had been updated by the Ranger Corp to reflect the current state of the kingdom.
The province known as Eversong was the northern most region of Quel''Thalas, and contained the city of Silvermoon, as well as the island of Quel''Danas within its borders.
From the southern tip of the map, a black line spanning 10 to 20 miles in diameter, and stretching over 200 miles in length went straight to the Sunwell.
His advisors and the people had taken to calling this new geological feature as the Dead Scar.
Foul necromantic energies permeated this land, and any creature that had ever died in or around that space would rise from their graves, and haunt the land as mindless Undead.
Kael had dispatched priests, paladins, and mages to research the corrupted earth, to see if they could mend their kingdom. However, such skills eluded the top minds of Quel''Thalas.
The anger Kael felt at this permanent scarring was apocalyptic. Every day, his people would be reminded of their greatest defeat. Precious resources and manpower were forced to divert towards the Dead Scar, draining the forces he had planned to use against Arthas!
Kael¡¯Thas burned his hands from clenching Felo''melorn, but the pain was a soothing balm to his rising irritability.
At the very least, all of the surrounding lands to the left and right of the Dead Scar had escaped the Scourge onslaught.
With the Sunwell being Arthas¡¯ goal, many hamlets, villages, and 3 towns had gone through this hectic event unscathed.
More than 24,000 Blood Elves residing within the rural hinterlands survived. The second piece of good news was that the major port town of Sunsail Anchorage-residing on Quel''Thalas¡¯ west coast-maintained their navy, and their population of 12,000 Elves.
His advisors estimated that total survivors for the entire kingdom of Quel''Thalas may exceed 240,000 souls.
This was good news, yet of little comfort considering the fate of their other province.
South of Eversong was the province of Tha''salah. This region was named after the mother tree that had been planted by the first Highborn once they arrived in this region of the world after the Sundering.
The Great Tree was grown from a branch of the World Tree, Nordrassil. Its restorative powers bathed all of Quel''Thalas under the light of eternal spring, and acted as a ward against the Trolls and their shamanistic magic.
When the Scourge attacked, their first target was the third largest city within all of Quel''Thalas, Tha''salah City. Kael figured his ancestors could have done better with their naming sense, but that did not detract from the utter tragedy that this second map depicted.
With an estimated population of over 300,000, the provincial capital of Tha¡¯salah was a haven for rangers, and other Elves that had a penchant for nature. Whilst druidism wasn''t particularly large amongst his people, there were still people who studied its teachings.
Some rangers would study animals, and learn to channel their energies. They would mimic the creatures internal mana, and then adopt some of their skills. Rangers would learn skills like the Aspect of the Dragonhawk, or the Aspect of the Farstrider, gaining attributes unique to those animals.
However, with the loss of Tha¡¯salah, all libraries and secret knowledge detailing these obscure skills was lost to them forever.
The land had been twisted and corrupted, such that it was no longer fit for habitation. His scouts had written the province of Tha''salah off as almost a complete loss, renaming the region, the Ghostlands.
The once majestic city, shrouded in endless spring, and the golden leaves of the Great Tree was now bathed in a curse of endless clouds, darkened skies, and plagued land. It had been renamed as Deatholme.
Deatholme served as the Scourge base of operations within the kingdom of Quel''Thalas, and while Kael¡¯Thas wanted to reclaim it for his people, he was much more interested in taking down Arthas.
He had seen how the vast majority of Undead acted mindless, and without direction. However, once they had a commander, they became a fearsome tool.
Any command post like Deatholme could be taken, or have its commander assassinated, yet another could be risen by the flick of a finger, and a new, endless horde of Undead would spring up to take its place.
No, what Kael needed was to cut the head off the snake. Should he destroy the leader, the host of Undead would fall like a house of cards.
Without anyone to maintain order, and raise new commanders, the existing generals of the Scourge would fall to infighting as they vied for power.
Which took his attention to another map. This one depicted the land just south of the Ghostlands. It showed the Human provincial capital of Stratholm.
All the land had become corrupted, and had been renamed as the Eastern Plaguelands.
Rapping his knuckles across the table, Kael¡¯Thas looked up to the two advisors he had invited into the office.
Sitting across from him were two of four men whose opinions he had to take into consideration before taking any grand action.
The two who were absent at the moment were Lor''Themar, and Dranarus. Their expertise surrounding martial pursuits, and knowledge of the land were exceeded by none. It was a pity that they were otherwise occupied at the moment.
However, the two men in front of him, Pathaleon, and Rommath were capable advisors that Kael could rely upon.
Pathaleon was a political animal that had served his father well as his majordomo and seneschal. One of the top mathematicians and record keepers, he knew every Elf to have ever achieved something within Quel''Thalas, and was the second most familiar face within the palace. If anyone sought an audience with Kael''s father, they had to go through Pathaleon.
Furthermore, Pathaleon had a good grasp on the Kingdoms pulse via informants. He had detailed reports on the economy, and was a logistician through and through.
If Kael wanted to organize an army to go on the offensive, he would need someone like Pathaleon to organize the behind the scenes work.
While Kael did not care for Pathaleon''s character or his petty political nature, he valued his skills, and tolerated his glib tongue, if only to serve his purpose in Kael''s revenge.
Lastly, there was Rommath. The dark-black haired Elf covered his mouth with a high collar at all times, and spoke in a deep, monotonous baritone.
As Kael''s magic tutor when he was a boy, he knew first hand the depths of Rommath''s knowledge.
While internally, Kael thought that he had surpassed Rommath in raw magical power, he knew that his teacher possessed wisdom, and a broader understanding of other magical disciplines than Kael had.
Calm, respectable, and largely quiet, Rommath served as a soothing presence when all other advisors were somewhat distant to him as they saw him as their future King.
While Rommath wasn''t a royalist as far as Kael knew, he was Kael''s teacher, and their current bond was that of respected colleagues, not one of King and subject.
Kael greatly appreciated that his teacher could still treat him as if nothing had changed between them. In these dark days, Kael clung to any sense of normalcy he could get his hands on, like a desperate man trying to pull himself out of quicksand.
That was why Kael had nominated Rommath to become the new Grand Magister, because he could think of no one more trustworthy to regulate and oversee Quel''Thalas¡¯ mages.
Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.
Now with the Convocation reemerging, Rommath would have to go through a vote to confirm his post, but Kael was not worried about this. He had his best friend heading the institution, and knew that his nomination would pass within a day.
No, if there was anything he was concerned over, it was Lor''Themar. With him taking up a seat on the Convocation, would he be able to hold his post as Ranger General, or would he resign?
Kael held onto his broken blade with uncertainty as his plans to name Lor''Themar protector of the realm hung in the balance.
He had planned to go on campaign against Arthas within days, the sooner they confronted him, the sooner they could get everything back in order.
While he was gone, he wanted Lor''Themar to oversee the defense of their homeland, however, that idea was currently up in the air.
¡°Pathaleon, Rommath, you know my thoughts on counter attacking the Scourge, I intended to place Lor''Themar in charge of Quel''Thalas'' borders while I was away on campaign. However, with his status as a councilor on the Convocation, I am uncertain how I should proceed.¡± Kael said, looking the two advisors in the eyes.
Pathaleon side eyed Rommath, but when he saw that the masked magister remain silent, he cleared his throat, drawing the Prince''s attention to himself.
¡°There are other options, my liege. Captains Venn¡¯ren and Natacha have proven themselves loyal to the crown. Their efforts in Silvermoon''s defense were quite commendable. Venn''ren has claimed 555 Undead to his name. Pathaleon said, pulling out a scrying orb, and depicting recordings of his heroism.
¡°Venn¡¯ren was not capable of slaying even a thousand? I have no need of layabouts leading my rangers. Tell me about Natacha.¡± Kael said dismissively. The Ranger General could not just be any so-called Hero. They had to be the best of the best, and this man certainly was not.
¡°Yes, my Prince. Natacha was involved more in the defense of civilians during the Sourge invasion. She personally rescued 1,223 people, and defended a shelter until Lor''Themar arrived. She cut her teeth at the battle of the beach, where she proved instrumental in holding the right flank. Additionally, she took part in the battle against the sea creature by your side.¡± Pathaleon switched the image on the scrying orb, and showed Natacha fighting with other Elven Heroes to hold out against a wave of green Trolls.
Natacha was strong, Kael would give her that. But she was not Ranger General strong. She was exactly what a Ranger Captain should be. Perhaps even borderline worthy of becoming Commander of the Farstriders. But she was an unfamiliar face, one Kael had no interest in.
¡°I have no recollection of this Natacha on the battlefield. Are you certain this recording is accurate, Calculator?¡± Kael leaned forward, and rubbed his chin in dissatisfaction as he beheld her feats.
¡°O-of course m-my King, I-¡±
¡°Prince.¡± Rommath spoke in his silent baritone.
¡°Yes, my Prince. These two are the most loyal to the crown-to you! I would only ever suggest those that benefit the Sunstrider dynasty!¡± Pathaleon nervously gulped, looked up at Kael''s eyes, then hung his head low.
¡°I seem to recall a black haired ranger with powerful Arcane Arrows damaging the creature''s weak points. Compared to the dozens of other Heroes, he stands out. Hmm, what was his name?¡± Kael tapped his chin in thought.
¡°Commander Brightwing, leader of the Farstriders.¡± Rommath spoke up once more.
¡°So he leads our most elite, special forces unit within the Ranger Corp. Why, Pathaleon, did you not lead with this suggestion?¡± Kael arched an eyebrow, thoroughly unimpressed with his logistician''s performance.
¡°Commander Halduron Brightwing, commands much respect amongst the Rangers as Lor''Themar''s right hand man. Furthermore, he is known to possess great strength. This is true. However, it is no secret that he owes his current position of Commander of the Farstriders in no small part to the now deceased Highlord Vandercross.¡± Pathaleon said, face scrunched up in disapproval at the thought.
¡°What are you implying? That I should forsake the safety of my country, of my people to the whims of a less qualified individual?¡±
¡°When dealing with the matters of the realm Prince Kael¡¯Thas, we must consider more than black and white. There are other factors than capability that play into running a country.¡± Pathaleon raised a hand, and soothed like he was talking to an irate animal.
¡°On what basis do you reject Brightwing''s promotion, Calculator? For pride? For politics? For power?¡± Kael spat as he almost rose from his seat in anger.
Their country had lost everything, was Pathaleon truly attempting to sway him away from the most fit man for the job?! Perhaps it was time to find a more agreeable courtier.
¡°Pardon my impertinence, my liege, you may be friends with the young Vandercross, but as your advisor, I must inform you of the decisions I see as the best course of action for the Sunstrider Dynasty. Brightwing is a scoundrel, one who has sided with your father¡¯s greatest rival. A Ranger General must be skilled, yes, but loyal above all else. We have seen where misplaced loyalties have led us in these last few days, hm?¡± Pathaleon said, then adjusted the scrying orb to depict the security recording of the ultimate betrayal.
It was the scene of Drathir Dar''Khan as he ambushed the council, and lowered Silvermoon''s defenses at the Sunwell.
Kael looked on at the recording, silently fuming as venom coursed through his veins. He wished Varrus had not slain that bastard, only so that Kael could get his hands on the slimy traitor¡¯s neck himself.
As the recording came to an end, Pathaleon cleared his throat. ¡°And so you see, your Majesty, Dar''Khan was Lor''Themar¡¯s best friend. Similarly, Halduron is Lor''Themar¡¯s protege. Who is to say his judgment can be trusted? Perhaps it is for the best that we are looking to replace him.¡± Pathaleon whispered in mirthful conspiracy.
Kael leaned back in his chair, and felt a headache come upon him. His three replacement picks were either too weak, or had their loyalties come under question. He wanted to go on campaign, to right their people''s wrongs, and search for a cure to their mana addiction along the way.
However, with no replacement Ranger General, who was to see to their defense? Could Lor''Themar reliably sit upon the Convocation, and lead as Ranger General instead? Did he have to step down from his post?
Kael wanted to tap his foot as the nerves of rulership began to creep up on him. Only due to countless years of tutoring kept him in check.
¡°Halduron Brightwing is an acceptable pick. His motives are selfish, but his intentions are clear. You can trust him to defend Quel''Thalas.¡± Rommath said calmly, with his eyes closed as if he was in a state of pseudo meditation.
¡°Very well, it is done. Pathaleon, file the paperwork, and have it sent to the Convocation. You may submit Natacha''s name as Brightwing''s replacement while you''re at it.¡± Kael said dismissively, indicating that the meeting was over.
¡°But my liege!¡± Pathaleon protested.
¡°We are done here. Dismissed, Calculator.¡± Kael said sternly.
¡°I live to serve the Sunstriders.¡± Pathaleon stood from his seat, bowed and exited.
As he left, he curiously eyed Rommath, yet the magister remained silent until the doors to the office slammed shut.
¡°I am unprepared for this politicking, Rommath. As a leader of the Kirin Tor, I was one among many voices, an Elf respected for his mastery of magic, not words.¡± Kael placed a hand over his forehead as he felt the burdens of decision making press onto his shoulders.
¡°When I saw you cast your first spell at the age of 5, I knew you were born for greatness, Kael¡¯Thas.¡±
¡°A product of my training. Mother would be wroth, should I fail such a basic spell.¡± Kael¡¯Thas said dismissively.
¡°Do not underscore your own achievements, my Prince. You became my star pupil, not because of some storied lineage, or epic bloodline. No! You were the most talented, hardest working student I had ever had. Take pride in your accomplishments.¡±
¡°Yes, running away from home, and destroying our people''s key to immortality. I have accomplished oh so much.¡± Kael bitterly intoned.
¡°Great men do not seek power, they have power thrust upon them. Do not ever forget that.¡± Rommath slowly replied.
¡°I did not ask to be great! This! All this was never mine to seek out! I had a father, older siblings, why must I be the one to bear this flag?!¡± Kael closed his eyes, and held back tears as his emotions threatened to spill out.
¡°The time to play pretend, and frolic amongst the Humans is over, Kael. Our people cry out in pain, in desperation, in revenge. You, Prince Kael¡¯Thas Sunstrider our the standard bearer. You have named us Sin''Dorei, Blood Elves! You have marked us as your own, set upon us a course of no return. You will take responsibility.¡±
¡°I am a young Elf, not even a century old, Rommath. My heart cries for vengeance, but I am not the leader you think I am.¡± Kael said, refusing to meet Rommath¡¯s eyes.
Kael only had a moment to blink his eyes incredulously when Rommath suddenly stood up, reached across the table, and slapped him across the face.
Kael recoiled in shock, bewildered by his teacher¡¯s attitude. He had never been slapped before as far as he could remember. Much less, he had never seen his mild mannered tutor act out like this!
Instead of outrage, all Kael felt was befuddlement.
¡°You do not realize how much of an inspiration you are, Prince Kael¡¯Thas. The army down below, do you know that they call themselves? The Sunfury. They name themselves in honor of your father, in honor of the Sunstrider name. You are our leader. You are our hope. You are the heir to King Anasterian Sunstrider, start acting like it.¡± Rommath bowed, then stormed out of the office.
Kael idly placed a hand to his heart as the pain began to settle in. Soreness radiated from the bruise forming on his face, yet it was nothing compared to the agony of the mind.
Looking down once more at the maps depicting the utter devastation that was now the Ghostlands, Kael could only sigh in discomfort.
His father¡¯s ghost felt like it was hovering over his shoulder. The weight of judgment cast over him felt almost too much to bear.
Turning around in the hopes of catching a hint or glimpse of the man, all Kael saw was the Elves training down below outside his window.
Their intensity, their passion, it was like nothing Kael had ever seen before.
¡°The Sunfury? Unbelievable. All of them were motivated by my speech?¡± Kael placed his hand on the glass of the window slowly, almost like he didn''t believe what he was seeing.
¡°I never wanted to be great, to be King. But if the burdens of leadership mean I can secure the safety of my people¡¡± Kael said to himself trailingly. ¡°Then there is no mountain I will not climb, nor ocean I won¡¯t cross to see us succeed. I¡¯d go to the gates of Hell if I had to¡to the very gates of Hell.¡± Flickers of green energy ignited within the core of his eyes, and his fathers blade scorched his hand as the fires of hate coursed through his veins like an inferno.
Chapter 43
Varrus found himself at a corner of the Royal Palace, on a terrace overlooking a hedge maze.
Light rain drizzled down upon his position, but enchanted umbrellas diverted the direction of the rain, and had it run off into the gutters, leaving him dry.
Standing beside him was Syra, whom had contacted him via scrying orb soon after he left the dungeon. Which allowed them to meet up for the luncheon, and save Varrus the headache of searching all throughout the city for her by foot.
They were waiting for Kael and Jan''alai to show up for lunch, so Varrus let his mind wander as he took in the simple, yet useful, everyday enchantments that surrounded him.
The scrying orb, for example, essentially acted as a cellphone, and could record, call, and send text over long distances. They used the leylines like a cable network to transmit messages, or could be used globally by anyone with enough mana to boost the signal.
Ingenious inventions such as scrying orbs, running water (plus showers and toilets), indoor heating, and neat curios like these enchanted umbrellas almost made Varrus feel like he was still in a modern era of Earth.
In fact, Varrus was tempted to steal one of the umbrellas to disenchant. The ability to collect and divert oncoming water would be a useful enchantment on armor or a shield when fighting against the Naga. That serpentine, seafaring race of mutated Highborn were the survivors of the Sundering.
The Sundering being a massive explosion that broke apart the Pangea-like supercontinent that once dominated the planet of Azeroth into nearly a dozen land masses.
Pledged to the Old Gods, the Naga were on the same team as they giant cthulhu-esque monster, Kith''ix. Conflict with them seemed inevitable.
While it would likely be a far off conflict, that didn''t mean Varrus couldn''t make some preparations ahead of time.
Whilst Varrus was stroking his chin, and plotting the theft of an umbrella, Syra sat on the edge of a monstrously long table.
She was carefully pressing a flower into her journal, and cutely stuck her tongue out to the corner of her mouth as she glued it in place.
The focus in her eyes, and dedication to her hobby really warmed Varrus¡¯ heart.
With the revelation that she had orchestrated the murder of his political rival, and blackmailed another into supporting him, he was a little worried when she left the estate, and entered the city.
But knowing that she was on the hunt for a new flower, left Varrus at ease. Collecting memories for a later time was rather wholesome.
When Varrus was younger, back on Earth, he would receive all sorts of notes from his parents. Typically it was stuff like ¡®do the dishes, take out the trash, or sign a package arriving today.¡¯
But sometimes they would say how proud of him they were, or that they loved him. Varrus began collecting those notes, and when he was older, they became fond memories that he could cherish into his old age.
Varrus walked up besides Syra, and gave her a side hug as she finished completely pressing the flower into the book. It looked familiar to Varrus, being a purplish color, but he was no botanist, or even an amateur. Identifying flower names simply by looking at them was beyond him.
¡°Someone is happy. Did you find what you wanted?¡± Varrus said, kissing Syra on the cheek.
His wife blinked her eyes like a baby rat being forced to wake up, and was a little out of sorts as she stroked the flower with a creepy, somewhat obsessive smile on her face.
Varrus glanced left and right at her odd behavior, but he supposed everyone had their quirks. At least it was nice to see her enjoying herself.
So much war, death, and suffering had graced this land in the last couple of days, it was nice to find something that wasn''t ¡®work related¡¯ to relax to.
¡°I need a hobby.¡± Varrus muttered to himself.
As he spoke, he heard Kael muttering on the wind, and the loud bodacious laughter of one muscular Troll lady.
Snapping her book shut, Syra grabbed onto Varrus¡¯ arm, and pulled roughly herself off the table, as if to say ¡®I''m all the hobby you need.¡¯
At that moment, she was so forceful, Syra almost took Varrus down to the ground with the strength of her pull.
¡®Woah lady, making out in public is embarrassing enough, I''m not going to let you press me to the ground in front of my best friend!¡¯ Varrus mentally complained as he pushed back against her.
It was only thanks to his increased stats, that Varrus was able to balance himself.
He could only raise an eyebrow, and nervously grin at her antics. This woman was cute when she was jealous, but damn!
Syra then placed one hand firmly on his buttox, giving it a nice squeeze, while the other hand gripped the back of his neck.
Varrus was all but forced into a tongue twisting kiss, but he couldn''t complain, as he had yet to grow tired of kissing his wife.
Clunking her forehead with his, Varrus looked into Syra''s eyes with amusement as she kept glancing outward, in the direction of Kael and Jan''alai.
¡°I''m not going anywhere, my love. I am yours, always and forever.¡± Varrus softly intoned, and gently stroked her cheek with the back of her hand.
¡°No flirting, no hugs, and no-¡± Syra all but growled, only to be interrupted by Varrus pecking her on the lips.
¡°Yes, yes, my big bad wife will chain me to the bedpost, force me to forget about politics, and make sweet baby making love until she has her child.¡±
¡°Don''t give me ideas Varrus.¡± Syra gripped him by the collar, and said with intensity.
Varrus gulped as he saw she was 100% serious.
¡°Is this the sight I am to be greeted with every time we meet, hm, Varrus?¡± Kael huffed in disapproval.
¡°Jealous, Goldilocks?¡± Jan''alai placed her hands underneath her chest, and leaned over towards the Prince.
¡°Preposterous! I am merely in a hurry to get this luncheon over with! My plans to slay the Betrayer are more important than this.¡± Kael said hotly as he crossed his arms in anger.
Varrus took a good look at his friend, and felt like something was off. He was typically moody from what he had seen, something Varrus would ordinarily write off, given the death of his father. That, and the responsibilities of an entire kingdom suddenly being thrust upon his shoulders.
However, there seemed to be an edge to him that wasn''t present before.
¡°Kael, relax, have a drink.¡± Varrus proposed, and telekinetically floated over a goblet that had been on the table.
Kael batted the goblet out of the way with a bolt of Arcane.
¡°Now is not the time for drinks. We should be mustering the troops! I came here to inform you that this campaign will be needing any surplus Mana Stones you have. I plan on taking the fight directly to Arthas! The people cry out for blood, and I will be the instrument of their retribution.¡±
Varrus held Syra tightly on the arm, just barely holding her back from doing something unwise.
¡°While I applaud the need to act, isn''t this a little too hasty? Chasing after Arthas ignores the plight of the people. Those still trapped in their homes are wasting away, becoming Wretched due to their mana addiction. This isn''t like you, you are acting-¡±
¡°Decisive? At the square last night, I let them walk all over me, and disparage Jan''alai. How am I to lead our people through this darkness if I stand still, and remain idle? I thought you of all people would appreciate the need for swift action!¡± Kael mirthlessly laughed.
Varrus shut his mouth at the uncharacteristic behavior presented by Kael. Was it as he claimed? Did he truly have a wake up call, and decided to take matters into his own hands?
Fact of the matter was, Varrus appreciated a decisive leader, but he was worried that this shift in Kael¡¯s attitude was much too swift compared to his canon counterpart.
It was whilst Varrus was looking at his friend in concern at this altered behavior, that he saw a flash of green flicker in Kael''s magically blue eyes.
Now, Varrus wasn''t an NPC in a game that would look straight at a player character in stealth, and say: ¡®you see something? I thought I saw something.¡¯
No, he was a real person, and he knew what the color of an Elfs¡¯ eyes signified.
Just like how you could tell a Pokemon''s type based upon its colors (looking at you Evee evolutions), anyone could tell what flavor of magic an Elf primarily cast based on the color of their eyes.
It would seem that the rift of Fel energy that seeped into Azeroth during the Infernal incursion had done more damage than rain some debris onto their buildings.
Elves sucked up ambient magic like a Human breathed air. It was stunning to Varrus that such a small amount could affect Kael this drastically, but considering he had seen people get drunk off a shot of alcohol, he realized that everyone had different tolerances.
Varrus wanted Kael to seize life by the reins, but that didn''t mean he wanted his friend to sacrifice his compassion along the way.
¡°At least take a seat so we can talk about this over a good meal, why do you insist on chasing after Arthas? Tell me your reasoning. Is there a strategic goal that you have in mind, or is it blind revenge that has you ignoring the reality of chasing after him?¡± Varrus gestured towards the seat in an attempt at reconciliation.
It was incredibly rude for Kael to destroy the goblet of wine in a fit of rage, but Varrus was trying to be understanding. He could tolerate a little anger if it helped the Prince get it out of his system.
Scowling, Kael pulled up a seat, yet ignored the fruit and other snacks on the table.
¡°I''ve studied the Scourge, and noticed that without a local commander, they tend to shamble about like the mindless creatures that they are.¡±
¡°And you think killing Arthas will make them all adopt this trait? What¡¯s to stop another commander from taking a leading role? Furthermore, what makes you so sure that Arthas is their primary leader?¡± Varrus pushed back.
Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.
¡°Arthas is the center of this, I am certain! Trust me, old friend, if we take him out, the lesser commanders will scramble for power, dividing their forces. Then, we swoop in and clear the remaining Undead out like a child opening gifts at the Feast of Winter''s Veil!¡± Kael excitedly exclaimed.
¡°You have heard of the Lich King, have you not? The Undead seem to sing only praises of him every chance they get.¡± Varrus said sarcastically as he popped a grape into his mouth, and enjoyed its sweet/sour flavor.
¡°Myths and superstition meant to embolden the Cult of the Damned. This so-called Lich King has never made an appearance. It is a fact that when Arthas returned from Northrend, he was at the host of a powerful army. In every campaign, he was at the helm. If there is such a king, it is Arthas.¡± Kael said with passionate surety.
¡°An interesting hypothesis, Kael, but that is a big gamble. I happen to know that the Lich King is not only real, but that he poses a dire threat to our land. Making his home in Northrend, he is a great necromancer skilled in mind magic. Arthas is significant, I¡¯ll grant you that much, but he is not the head of the snake you are looking for.¡± Varrus shook his head, then fed one of the grapes on the table to Syra.
His wife suckled on his finger for a second, then shot the Troll across the table a look.
Varrus chuckled when Jan''alai gripped a wedge of watermelon, and all but shoved the triangular slice into Kael¡¯s face, staining his chin and robe with sticky juices.
¡°Jan''alai! This is a serious discussion! If you cannot behave yourself, then I am asking you to leave!¡± Kael angrily pouted as he cast a cleansing spell to wipe up the mess.
¡°Oh, I thought we were here to eat lunch?¡± Jan''alai said, holding up a chicken wing in front of Kael¡¯s face.
Kael opened his mouth as if to disagree, when his stomach growled especially loudly right at that moment.
¡°Well Goldilocks?¡± Jan''alai grinned from ear to ear.
Kael silently stole the chicken wing from Jan''alai''s grasp, then munched on it whilst glaring hatefully at Varrus across the table.
The boy-prince trying to act all serious almost had Varrus choke as he took a sip of his wine.
Good God, this petulant Prince was like a cat being soaked in bathwater!
¡°So the Lich King is real. You have proof to back this up?¡± Kael said between bites.
¡°A masculine voice claiming to be the Lich King attempted to turn me traitor. He promised me the fame I so rightly deserved, to succeed my father''s position. Naturally, I ignored it. At the time I assumed it was some political ploy to turn me against my father by a rival. How wrong I was. I imagine it was this same method that saw Drathir Dar''Khan betray us.¡± Varrus said, coming up with a lie he figured would sound convincing enough.
¡°Even if there is a Lich King, Arthas must pay for what he has done. You can see the state of our country! Give me the Mana Stones necessary for this campaign, and I will wipe the name Menethil from the pages of history!¡± Kael said with a burning intensity.
¡°It is precisely because I can see the state of our country that I cannot let you go on a mad goose chase in pursuit of this lone commander.¡± Varrus closed his eyes, deeply sighed, and said with pity.
¡°What.¡± Kael leaned forward in his chair in disbelief.
¡°I said-¡±
¡°I know what you said!¡±
¡°How can you sit there, relaxing in the arms of a beautiful woman, enjoying what limited food we have, and in the mood for laughter like it is all a joke? How can you trivialize this, this¡how can you trivialize the sorrow, guilt, fear, anger hatred when these people¡you, me, everyone! How can you relax when we have lost EVERYTHING!¡± Kael stood from the table, and slammed his hands down, whilst he looked Varrus in the eye.
Kael¡¯s voice warbled and stuttered, his face held great anguish, but the spark of green in his eyes spoke of madness and desperation.
¡°A little girl, no older than 12 came up to me on my way here.¡± Kael said with emotion, obviously biting back tears. ¡°You know what she said to me?¡±
Varrus kept silent, maintaining eye contact. He felt Syra¡¯s nails painfully dig into his arm, but he ignored them. Kael deserved that much respect.
¡°She said ¡®where do I sign up for the Sunfury? Your speech was inspiring!¡¯ That she was good with a firebolt, and was ready for the fight!¡± Kael placed his knuckles in his mouth, and bit down as he pulled back.
¡°The little girl wasn''t crying, angry, none of that! She was enthused! I did that. I made a little girl want to throw her life away, when she still has so much to live for. Of course I discreetly had the Royal Guards keep her from any of that, but the point is Varrus, even children are crying out for this. I am not asking you as your monarch, but as your friend. Please, give me your Mana Stones for this campaign.¡± Kael said emotionally.
Varrus closed his eyes and sighed.
¡®Shit, Kael may be influenced by Fel magic, but that doesn''t mean his plan isn''t exactly a bad one. However, the full might of the Scourge was waaay too strong at the moment. Canonically, Garithos was easily defeated by the Dreadlords who commanded the Scourge forces within Lordaeron.
Adding Kael and some ad hoc Blood Elves with a days¡¯ worth of training wouldn''t do shit to tip the balance of that situation. I have to find a way to purge this Fel energy from him, and make him clean house first before even thinking about going after Arthas.¡¯ Varrus hurriedly thought to himself, and began to form a plan.
Varrus decided he would have to blast Kael with a highly concentrated dose of Holy magic, and remove the Fel e energy from his system.
He had to be very careful about it, because he knew that Kael was on edge, and likely ready to snap at any moment. Furthermore, he most definitely had an enchanted item protecting himself from magical attacks.
Any attack from Varrus would be blocked, and give Kael enough time to retaliate. Violence was not the answer, and truthfully speaking, Varrus never wanted to trade hands with a friend. He had done so once before back on Earth, and it was something he had regretted for all time.
If Varrus was to help return Kael to his proper mental state, he would have to use finesse.
¡°Okay Kael, I''ll supply your Mana Stones, but we''re going to have to discuss the specifics, you wouldn''t want me to give them all to you, and leave our people at home to suffer, would you?¡± Varrus said, gesturing for Kael to sit once more.
¡°Sheesh, Goldilocks, I like this aggressive side of yours, very manly.¡± Jan''alai flashed him a smile, and all but manhandled him into the chair across from Varrus.
Her fit arms wrapped around his waist like pythons going in for the kill.
Kael wore an affronted look on his face, and seemed to be internally warring between anger, and happiness?
Varrus whistled at Kael''s slight blush.
Fel magic, it would seem, greatly amplified the emotions of the one under its effects.
Kael, the tsundere he was, typically would have pushed Jan''alai away by now. However, while he looked like a cat being forced into a bath, he also gave off ¡®dog wagging its tail¡¯ vibes.
If mental corruption wasn''t such a serious issue, Varrus would be seriously egging his friend on at the moment.
¡no, wait, that''s EXACTLY what he should be doing right now!
With his emotions heightened, Kael was prone to bursts of outrage, however¡however! He was also weak to the big boobed, loud mouthed tomboy clenching his waist at the moment!
Blessed with a fiendish idea that would see his friend cured of this madness, and get his wife''s ire off his back, Varrus sent a message to Rho''dan on his scrying orb to begin arranging things.
¡°Very well, how many Mana Stones can you afford to supply?¡± Kael seriously intoned, seeming to calm down as if a switch had been flipped.
¡°Ah, that all depends on if you and Jan''alai can beat me and Syra in a race to find a flag in the maze down below.¡± Varrus said as he idly made a circle in the rim of his wine glass.
The way he spoke, he was channeling 210% of the classic smug Elf attitude.
¡°Unbelievable. Our people cry out for revenge, and you want to waste my time with some childish game? We''re done here, I''ll be sending Pathaleon to your estate to collect what needs to be taken.¡± Kael¡¯Thas stood up out of Jan''alai''s grasp, and started to storm away.
¡°No. I don''t think he will. Either you play along, and settle things in a friendly match, or you¡¯ll march on proverbial empty stomachs.¡± Varrus said, taking a sip of his wine.
¡°What did you say?¡± Kael stopped in his tracks, and whirled around to stare Varrus in the eyes. His cape twirled theatrically, and Varrus almost couldn''t keep a straight face because of how ridiculous cape physics were, and how petulant Kael was acting.
¡°You heard me last time, suddenly I am to believe you have gone deaf too?¡± Varrus said, settling for a smirk instead of all out laughter.
¡°As your Prince, and future King, I order you and your men to provide Mana Stones to my army.¡± Kael¡¯Thas said, cold as ice.
¡°You are not my King yet Kael, even if you were, I would not obey such an order. Do not forget, it is the Convocation that signs off on any war, conflict, or diplomatic enquiry. This little sojourn of yours is illegal until I say otherwise.¡± Varrus said, saluting Kael cheerfully with his goblet, then took a sip.
Kael opened his mouth, and scrunched his face like he had eaten something sour.
¡°But that doesn''t mean I am closed to negotiation. Please, take a seat, Jan''alai is lonely without you.¡± Varrus motioned towards the overturned chair, and silently moping Troll girl.
Kael paused for a moment, and stared so deeply at Varrus, that he almost suspected the Prince would lash out at him with an attack.
¡°Let me see if I understood you just now. You wish to settle the fate of our people over a childrens¡¯ game?¡± Kael said, crossing his arms, as he reluctantly sat down next to Jan''alai once more.
¡°When you put it like that, I sound like quite the asshole.¡± Varrus cheerfully exclaimed as he sipped his cool refreshing beverage once more.
¡°Vandercross nonsense. Just like when we were boys.¡± Kael muttered to himself, then looked up at Varrus and raised his voice. ¡°Fine. I believe we are friends, Varrus. As much as things have changed, so much remains the same. I almost would rather duel you, then go off on another adventure ¡®round the castle gardens again.¡± Kael said with a sad, nostalgic smile.
¡°It is better we resolve our conflict of interest with something harmless than to stew bitterly for thousands of years like our parents.¡± Varrus added, looking Kael in the eye.
Even Kael, despite his slight Fel magic high could only begrudgingly nod at that.
¡°I can see the reasoning behind resolving our dispute peacefully, but a game to decide who is right, and who is wrong?¡± Kael shook his head, still baffled at Varrus¡¯ choice.
Varrus knew it was childish, but as the key policy maker in Quel''Thalas, other people had to negotiate with him if they wanted to pass a law, or enact change. Including any large scale military operation.
Between friends who disagreed with one another, what better way was there to peacefully resolve conflict than through a game?
Besides, something like a duel was the last thing Varrus wanted. No matter who won, it would set a dangerous precedent, and things could get real ugly, real fast.
¡°Afraid, Goldilocks? With me by your side, there''s no way we can lose!¡± Jan''alai confidently wrapped Kael around the neck, and close to her bussom.
¡°I can drink to that! Cheers!¡± Varrus held up his glass, then telekinetically floated over another pair of drinks towards the duo.
Only at the last second, Varrus deliberately spilt the beverage over Jan''alai¡¯s chest.
¡°Woah!¡± Varrus called out as if it were an accident.
The sticky wine splattered across Jan''alai, and the cold stimulated her ripples, causing them to harden, and poke into Kael¡¯s face.
¡°E-enough of this! Jan''alai and I shall meet this challenge, but when I win, Varrus, I want your full support in fighting Arthas. I still think of you as a friend, and there would be no one I¡¯d rather have by my side than you when I burn that putrid excuse for a Prince into ash.¡± Kael pulled back red faced, and shouted at Varrus hotly.
Varrus couldn''t hold it back any more, and belly laughed at his friend¡¯s actions.
¡°And if we win, you¡¯ll follow my lead when it comes to cleansing Quel''Thalas.¡± Varrus barely got out between his chuckles.
¡°Laugh all you want Varrus, you¡¯ll be thanking me once I free our people from this blight.¡± Kael said, pointing his finger at Varrus in a declaration of victory.
¡°We¡¯ll see Kael, but this little game needs rules. For one, no magical gear, or magic at all. Which is why we¡¯ll be handcuffed with our partner with mana suppressant handcuffs.¡±
¡°Looks like you¡¯re stuck with me, Goldilocks.¡± Jan''alai laughed, then messed up Kael¡¯s hair.
Syra quietly, and tenderly placed her hand on Varrus¡¯ inner thigh, and kissed him on the cheek.
¡°What, I do not agree to this-¡± Kael sputtered, only to be interrupted.
¡°It¡¯s settled then, whoever finds the flag, and gets ahold of it first is the winner.¡± Varrus said, grinning devilishly, like the Grinch who Stole Christmas.
Syra smiled brilliantly, holding lovingly onto Varrus¡¯ hand.
Jan''alai roared her laughter, slapping Kael on the back, and waving her wine goblet into the air like a wild party goer.
Varrus quirked his eyebrow in amusement, and pulled his wife close to nestle his chin in her hair.
Meanwhile, Kael-due to the Fel magic influencing his emotions-was experiencing a heightened concoction of simmering resentment, emo inner turmoil, and slumped resignation.
It was glorious.
Chapter 44
The entrance to the maze was perfectly groomed into a complex geometrical pattern. Flower beds, statues, benches and fountains adorned the landscape to tastefully create a scenic, small park vibe.
The rain had halted due to a small parting of the clouds, allowing a faint stream of light through.
Bright yellow cascaded off the water, and made the statues of famous figures, and creatures seem to come to life. The magic in the marble made Varrus think that they would undergo a ¡®Night in the Museum¡¯ type of experience, and suddenly animate.
Furthermore, a centrally located sundial ticked along, using brightly glowing magical runes to indicate the hour of the day. As 12 o''clock drew near, the dial lit up, and began to play a soothing chime.
At the entrance, the two guards, Rho''dan and Dranarus stood idly by.
Rho''dan appeared to be in deep, emotional turmoil as his self-professed rival was spouting off a litany of rumors, factoids, and hearsay.
Varrus chuckled at his friend''s plight. He could only imagine what it would be like to associate with an immortal chatterbox. Why, it might even drive one to suicide if they had to put up with nonstop babble.
Rho''dan gave him the stink eye, to which Varrus replied with a cheerful wave.
His chief protector was a stickler for decorum, and a silent guardian. A man who was stalwart in the face of lethal odds, and didn''t so much as tremble in the face of a demigod was having his eye twitch from a mountain of compressed rage.
It was glorious.
Varrus almost admired Knight-Lord Dranarus for the ability to talk ad nauseum. He wondered if it was a craft he had developed to annoy the piss out of people, or if it was genuinely how he operated.
Whilst Rho''dan was getting his ear talked off, Varrus and company had changed into new outfits.
Decked out in trainee''s gear, Varrus and Kael¡¯Thas wore simple, sleeveless tunics, and shorts. The ladies opted for a more freeing approach, wearing loose fitting tank tops, and snug fitting bike shorts, their equipment evoked both Varrus and Kael''s imagination, as the ladies revealed just enough skin that the men couldn''t keep their eyes off of them.
¡°Like what you see?¡± Jan''alai flexed her biceps, and scrunched her abdomen, showing off her muscular midsection.
Syra for her part, held onto Varrus¡¯ hand, and refused to let go.
Kael looked away towards a patch of perfectly manicured grass, ear tips glowing red.
Varrus squeezed Syra''s hand, and met her eyes, acknowledging her, he then turned to address Kael.
¡°Is grass so interesting, your Majesty?¡± Varrus called out.
¡°Nonsense, I''m simply admiring the greenery, I''ve been stuck studying ancient tomes and maps the last few days, and need some fresh air.¡± Kael snapped his focus away from the ground, and looked Varrus in the eye.
¡°Oh, aye, the greenery I gotchu.¡± Varrus smiled, and gave a thumbs up. ¡°Personally, I appreciate the gold of the light.¡± Varrus said, side-eying his wife. ¡°But far be it for me to tell a man what attracts his gaze.¡±
¡°Are you all prepared, Highlord, Prince?¡± Rho''dan stepped forward at that moment, ruining Varrus¡¯s teasing.
¡°Yes, yes, more than ready.¡± Kael said petulantly as he strode forward to enter the maze.
¡°Don''t forget the mana restricting manacles Kael!¡± Varrus raised a hand to his mouth, and shouted.
Kael raised his index finger up in protest, then slowly let his arm fall down as Jan''alai came up behind him, and bound them together.
At the same time, Varrus felt the restricting effects of the manacles once Syra chained then together.
The mana in his body suddenly felt sluggish, and would not operate according to his wishes.
Checking his status, Varrus saw it had two effects.
[Mana Restricting Manacles: Drains 5 mana per second until recipient has 10 mana in total.
&
Limits internal flow of mana, increasing spell cost by 90%]
After looking at the status, Varrus determined that the manacles didn''t completely halt his spell casting, but they did contain a sinister enchantment.
It was especially deadly for Elves if worn long term. Drained down to 10 mana, most any Elf would be too weak to do anything, or resist their captors.
As far as increasing the spell cost, Varrus theorized that there were very few if any devices that could 100% halt mana or the means to cast magic. Otherwise, such devices would have been employed by the Titans onto the Old Gods when they were imprisoned.
Like any fantasy world, there would always be those few super strong individuals that could break their bindings, and Varrus figured that if he or Kael truly tried, they could destroy the manacles. However, for 98% of humanoids, these cuffs were inescapable.
¡°Happy hunting!¡± Rho''dan clapped, ushering Varrus and Syra inside.
Varrus rolled his eyes at Rho''dan, then chose an entrance separate from Kael, branching left while the Prince went right.
Whilst he had agreed to Kael¡¯s terms, he wasn''t all too worried that he would lose.
For one, he had insider information of the flag¡¯s placement, thanks to Rho''dan. At the center of the maze was a big ass tree, at the top of which rested the object determining victory.
Secondly, thanks to the Alteration perk, Intuitive Magic every Novice/Apprentice spell from all schools of magic cost 0 mana to cast.
Paired with the vanilla Skyrim, novice Alteration spell, Clairvoyance, and he could find his way through this maze with his eyes closed.
Clairvoyance: Shows the path to the current goal.
Varrus leisurely held onto Syra with his right hand, whilst his left hand cast the spell. A faint blue stream of light spilled forth in front of him, and guided him towards the big tree at the center of the maze.
¡°My husband is so strong, not even the most feared of enchantments can hold him back.¡± Syra said in a bragging tone.
¡°I''m sure you could too.¡± Varrus said, slightly embarrassed the way she was clinging to his arm, and talking him up.
¡°Could I break the manacles? Yes, absolutely. However, could I reliably cast magic whilst chained up? I don''t think you know how amazing you are at times.¡± Syra said as she concentrated some Light magic in her hand, only to have it sputter out a moment later.
Shaking her head, and laughing, Syra picked up the hand that Varrus was casting magic with, then poked it, lowered his arm, and even shook him like a tree in the wind to see what would happen.
Syra''s actions were annoying at first, but the look of genuine curiosity, and wonder on her face melted Varrus¡¯ heart. She was like a kid that had seen a magic trick for the first time, and was trying to reason with the unreasonable.
Chuckling softly at her antics, Varrus was reminded of a cat that could stare at, and swipe at a mouse toy all day long.
God, she was beautiful.
The sun piercing through the intermittent clouds brought out the color in her blonde hair, making it shine with health and luster.
Her skin was a healthy tan, and was smooth to the touch. The way her bust swayed with each step, and her hair fluttered in the wind made him feel an inexplicable urge.
Syra seemed to feel this pent up desire, and met his intense, lust filled gaze with a brilliant smile.
¡°Later, my love. For now, I wish to beat that two-timing Prince, and savor the look on his face as we crush his hopes and dreams. To think he could best my husband? I''ll kill him.¡± Syra silently muttered to herself as she rubbed her face against Varrus¡¯ side like some sort of cat.
Varrus settled for briefly kissing her on the cheek as he kept moving forward. He heard less than half of Syra¡¯s mumbled talk, and the less he knew, the better.
Frankly, he was just happy to walk side by side with his wife, and enjoy the beauty of nature. No cars honking, no train flattering on the tracks, crowds of people, or sirens in the distance. Just him, and his wife.
Squeezing her hand, Varrus was reassured that he wasn''t fighting all of Warcraft alone. That he had a support base, and something to go home to.
Varrus had a loving, supportive wife, and was planning to create a lasting peace that his children could enjoy. For that, holding the reins of power was necessary.
He had never imagined he would aim to become a father back on Earth, but now that the responsibility had presented itself, his entire ethos had shifted.
Actions like he had undertaken with Dakar once seemed unimaginable to him. And they still did. But everything was in service to his family, and to the people who relied upon his support.
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
He was no longer a faceless member of society, one whose fate was subject to the whims of distant policy makers.
Now, he was a leader, his every action or inaction carrying consequences.
Consequences that affected her.
Varrus smiled, and let a tear drip down the side of his cheek as he beheld the perfect woman, and everything he fought for.
Syra was marveling at the nearby flowers, taking in unique arrangements, and occasionally mumbling the names and effects that they could produce.
Her knowledge of herbalism was endearing, and something Varrus eagerly supported.
There was nothing quite like seeing someone you loved, enjoy themselves in their hobby.
It was moments like this that made him firm his resolve, and to keep living.
Moments that were going to become fewer and fewer as the drums of war increased their tempo.
Just thinking of the multiple, world shattering conflicts slated for the future was enough to drive one to madness. All Varrus could do was prepare himself, and his people for that danger. If he was lucky, he could snuff out some of these problems in the cradle before they materialized.
He would start with Kael.
That boy was damaged, and the introduction of Fel magic into his system was doing no favors.
Once Varrus purged the substance out of his friend, he would have to set him straight, and warn him against the foul energy. From his POV, it was like watching a high-school friend get addicted to meth. Fel magic for an Elf was like skipping all the other illicit items, and going straight to the top of the totem pole.
While a game like capture the flag was a silly means to lower Kael¡¯s defenses, and make the task of blasting him with Light magic easier, Varrus found that the best way to communicate with a troubled friend was a heart to heart talk.
He had made up with his best friend, and older brother on Earth by pouring his heart out. Considering his experience, Varrus firmly believed that the bonds of brotherhood grew stronger with open dialogue.
All too often it was easy to misconstrue someone else''s words or intentions, leading to festering thoughts.
Varrus saw the hurt in Kael¡¯s spirit, and not only for the good of their friendship, but the stability of all of Quel''Thalas, Varrus would have to set him straight.
¡°I think we¡¯re here.¡± Syra quietly spoke up.
Emerging from the maze, Varrus and Syra stood in a large circular courtyard. There were benches aplenty, as well as an inoperable teleportation pad, indicating that this spot saw frequent use.
In the center of the courtyard was the massive tree that served as the hiding place of the flag. It was a white tree, tall as a 7 story building, wide like a double decker bus, and was flush with lovely orange leaves.
As soon as Varrus stepped into the clearing to admire the tree, he heard rustling coming from within the bushes, and prepared himself in the event that a wild animal, or heaven forbid, a Ghoul came springing forth.
The basic Flames spell rested in the palm of his hand, and he was ready to blast the varment to kingdom come!
Much to his surprise, Jan''alai and Kael¡¯Thas came barreling out of the maze looking like they had spent 3 days with no food in the jungle.
Kael''s shirt was missing, and wait, no, his shirt was wrapped around Jan''alai''s chest, and was tied to her torn tank top to prevent her giant breasts from spilling out.
Furthermore, Kael had twigs in his hair, and was spitting out a fly.
Jan''alai was half carrying him, and being none too subtle when it came to sharing skin with the Prince.
¡°We made it!¡± Jan''alai cheered.
¡°Whether it was in one piece remains to be determined.¡± Kael muttered.
¡°Look, Goldilocks, they''re here too, and the flag is at the top of the tree, we have no time to waste!¡± Jan''alai pointed out excitedly.
¡°Just let me catch my brea-eh-eath!¡± Kael said hunched over, only to lose himself as Jan''alai threw him over her shoulders like Donkey Kong kidnapping Princess Peach.
The Forest Troll then began to scale the tree at speed, like a monkey.
Varrus and Syra hadn''t remained idle at this time, and were jumping up from branch to branch like a pair of ninjas.
Each and every one of their hops was nearly in sync, and they had surpassed Jan''alai.
¡°Oh no you don''t!¡± Jan''alai grinned as she violently shook a branch, causing Varrus to slip just as his foot landed.
Varrus saw the sky upside down for a second before Syra pulled him up.
¡°Thanks, I-¡±
¡°No talk, win!¡± Syra rebuked Varrus¡¯ thanks, then moved to jump.
Jan''alai had taken the lead, and it was looking close!
Varrus bit his lip. He really didn''t want to let Kael¡¯Thas go on his expedition!
For one second, Varrus cast the novice spell Longstride, increasing his speed by 20%.
At the same time, he cradled Syra, and with his enchanted strength due to his stats, flip kicked his way to the top of the tree right as Jan''alai was about to snatch it.
¡°Got it!¡± Varrus cheered.
As soon as they returned to the ground, Varrus was met by Rho''dan who unlocked the cuff binding him to Syra.
His wife looked slightly irate, but she didn''t say a word.
¡°Why do you have to do this? Why don''t you see that killing Arthas will cascade into ultimate victory?¡± Kael said angrily as he jumped off Jan''alai''s shoulders.
¡°We will have our revenge, I promise you that. But you don''t even know what you''re up against. Rushing blindly head first into millions of Undead is suicide. We must re-conquer our land first, and scout out the enemy.¡± Varrus said as he prepared one of his Restoration spells whilst Kael was still chained to Jan''alai.
¡°Can''t you see? If we don''t slay this Lich King¡¯s greatest general, then the zombies will be endless. We must act!¡± Kael¡¯Thas said bitterly.
Varrus rubbed the bridge of his nose. Confronting an emotional friend was never fun.
¡°That is a good point Kael, but you as well as everyone else knows that the Scourge served the Lich King, they won''t shut up about it! As we discussed earlier, Arthas is not the Lich King.¡± Varrus said, for the first time beginning to grow irate.
¡°Then you would have us sit still, do nothing? We can ally with the humans, make a concentrated push, then send out a strike team to take out their leader!¡± Kael took a step forward, coming almost eye to eye with Varrus.
¡°Will you uphold your end of the bargain, or not?¡± Varrus said tersely, holding his hand out for a shake to seal the deal.
Kael looked at his open palm for an uncomfortably long time, before he sighed, and grabbed on for a handshake.
Varrus felt Syra tighten up to him with a death grip straight out of a kung fu movie, but Varrus refused to give her any ground. He had to get over this hurdle for the betterment of his friend, and the security of Quel''Thalas.
¡°I do not like it, Varrus, but you won the wager. I am loath to return to the way of our fathers, but don¡¯t think you can win every disagreement this way.¡± Kael said in exasperation.
¡°I¡¯m relieved that you believe me. I just have one more thing to say before I leave you to your greenery. When that rift opened up, a large amount of Fel magic poured into our atmosphere. I noticed that when a Highborn inhales, or absorbs any amount of Fel energy, their irises turn green, and their emotional faculties become warped.¡± Varrus said slowly, and deliberately, like he was softly letting someone know that yes, they were an alcoholic, and no, they weren''t being judged.
Kael''s eyes widened in surprise at the revelation.
Varrus saw Kael¡¯s mind tick away as he interpreted Varrus¡¯s words. The Prince was not a simpleton, and quickly came to a conclusion.
¡°Hmm. I had been feeling¡different. More confident, more in control. I merely attributed that to me accepting my responsibilities. But I never imagined I would do something like this.¡± Kael stroked his chin, then pointed at his shirtless chest.
¡®Okay, that was a worrying obsessive thing for Kael to say.¡¯ Varrus thought to himself as he saw the greasy tentacles of Fel energy grip ahold of his friend.
This was still salvageable! Varrus could do this!
¡°That was with just a tiny fraction of Fel energy entering your system. Confidence becomes arrogance, and a minor disagreement with a friend turns into paranoia. There is an enclave of Elves in Eldre''Thalas on Kalimdor, now commonly known as Dire Maul. They kept in contact with Silvermoon until recently, their disappearance is due to the corruptive nature of Fel magic.¡± Varrus seriously intoned.
¡°I''ve heard about them, they were overrun by Ogres, were they not?¡± Kael questioned.
¡°That is incorrect. The truth is, that they went mad siphoning Fel magic and killed one another to hoard power. You, my friend, only have 5% of this energy in your system, and unlike the you of 2 days ago, you have acted with anger, disregarding compassion, and are simply not yourself.¡± Varrus cautioned.
¡°Is it wrong to be confident? Decisive? This new energy gives me passion, drive to see to the safety of our people like never before, can you not see that? I am nothing like those others.¡± Kael pressed back.
Varrus had to admit, he would like for his friend to be more confident, and less of a pushover, but not like this. He had seen what Kael became in Canon. The sniveling wretch in the Burning Crusade expansion that Kael transformed into was a character assassination of the highest order.
Varrus was loath to see his friend transform into the equivalent of a paranoid meth addict, and would do anything to keep him from going down that path.
¡°5% Kael, you are only tainted by a mere fraction of Fel energy. You are an intelligent Elf, one of the smartest I know. But to experiment with other, corruptive types of energy, we must wear enchantments that protect the mind. Otherwise, we are lost. I know that you enjoy this newfound confidence, but I must purge it from your system, for your health and sanity.¡± Varrus said, then without giving Kael another chance to get a word in edgewise, blasted him with Holy Light.
Dranarus drew his sword, but Rho''dan was ready, and intercepted him before anything could be done.
After a moment, Varrus let up on his spell, and took a gander at the Prince.
¡°You alright there, Goldilocks?¡± Jan''alai questioned, slapping him on the back.
Kael stared Varrus down, then sighed, and rubbed his now piercing blue eyes.
¡°It is quite the rush, the feeling of Fel coursing through your veins¡thank you for freeing me from that state, my friend.¡± Kael said, seemingly with great reluctance.
¡°Glad to have you back, Kael. However, that doesn''t mean I won''t be checking you for Fel corruption periodically. I know how addictive it can be, I''m counting on you, Jan''alai to keep him on the straight and narrow.¡± Varrus said with some amusement.
¡°You want me to watch over Goldilocks? I think I can manage that.¡± Jan''alai said with a wide grin.
¡°Now see here, I don''t require any baby sitting-¡± Kael bit out, but was interrupted by Jan''alai as she leaned down, and planted a wet kiss on his lips.
¡°D-did you just¡¡± Kael stuttered, seemingly paralyzed in a stunlock.
¡°Want me to do it again?¡± Jan''alai said huskily.
Varrus turned to Rho''dan, and saw the same look in his eye.
And Syra had loosened her grip on him.
Mission accomplished!
Now that things were back on track, Varrus would have to find the time to use enchant a ring and amulet with some of his Greater Soul Gems, so that his best friend would never be in fear of running out of mana whilst he went on campaign to clear out Quel''Thalas.
Of course, he would have to hand them off to Rho''dan so that his wife didn''t misconstrue this as something that it wasn''t.
Things were looking up for Varrus. He had successfully prevented Kael¡¯Thas from going down the route to Outland, and becoming corrupted by Illidan.
Now all he had to do was hash out the future direction of the entire kingdom with the rest of the Convocation. That was going to be a bureaucratic nightmare, but it had to be done.
There was a reason why the most intelligent people on the planet avoided politics. Unfortunately for Varrus, that wasn''t really an option.
How fun.
Chapter 45
Once Varrus had sorted everything out with Kael, he had rushed back home to set up the meeting with the Convocation.
He was currently relaxing on the veranda overlooking the square in front of his home.
Deciding to enjoy some starlight, Varrus had set up a long table, and prepared several devices in advance that could Muffle the area.
Some of his guests had already arrived, and were either asking his crafters questions, or Thaladred¡¯s case, silently brooding at the far end of the table.
Since the island city on Quel''Danas was destroyed, Varrus in the letters he had sent to his fellow councilors members, told them to meet up at his residence.
The Vandercross Estate would play host to the Convocation until things could be rebuilt, and the tedious work of clearing out the Scourge was over.
Varrus could have very easily commandeered the central chamber within the Royal Palace, as Kael was hardly using it, however, Varrus wanted to make it clear that the Convocation was divorced from Royal decree. That they operated under their own rules, and guidelines.
Plus, call it petty, but Varrus was tired of always having to make the trek to other people''s dwellings if he wanted something from them. It was nice to have other people answer his summons than the other way around for once.
And so, Varrus had made sure that the various crafting halls were operating at full capacity, and that the reconstruction efforts around his home were underway.
In a sense, he almost felt like a young man, touring his parents around his first apartment, or house.
Varrus planned on working together with these people for a long time. By demonstrating the efficiency of his House, Varrus hoped to showcase his dedication to the cause.
They had seen him rise from playboy to genius magician, then rise as a powerful combatant. But those qualities hardly spoke of Varrus¡¯ civil leadership capabilities.
Earth history was rife with famous figures that could govern well, but were shit at warfare. Or vice versa, such as men like Ghengis Khan/Alexander who conquered a quarter of the world, but couldn''t manage it.
Varrus had no illusions that he was some grand administrator, but at the very least he wanted to present the veneer of competency.
Fake it till you make it was a motto that had gotten Varrus in over his head many a time, but it had its place.
Varrus had no skills that would suggest he could run a country. But he had the name, he had the followers, and he had the accolades.
Who would call him out on his bs?
¡°The cookies are a sweet treat, but the brightly polished House Vandercross banners are a bit tacky, don¡¯t you think old friend?¡± Tae''thelon said, levitating besides Telonicus.
The former school master was decked out in a rich red robe with black and gold undertones. His monocle shined alongside the rays of the setting sun.
¡°It is inefficient to prioritize flags over building materials.¡± Telonicus said, then placed a cookie within the gap of his horned helmet.
The Royal Engineer was direct, and matter of fact when commenting upon the state of Varrus¡¯ decorations.
¡°It is always about functionality with you, Telonicus. Can something not simply appeal to your artistic sense of, hmm, as the Humans of a long dead civilization put it, je ne se quois?¡±
¡°The cookies are impressive. The symmetry between each chocolate chip is a work of art.¡± Telonicus added in rebuttal, his voice remained level throughout the exchange, and due to the helmet, Varrus couldn''t tell if he was trolling or being serious.
¡°Ahck! Beware Vandercross, a murderer hast stained thine floors red with the blood of the scholarly.¡± Tae''thelon dramatically said, recoiling away from Telonicus like he was a leper.
¡°This is why I refrain from social gatherings.¡± Lor''Themar said as he scaled up the wall, and took a seat across from Varrus.
Varrus raised an eyebrow at the older Elf, but the Ranger General ignored him in favor of snagging a cookie off a nearby platter.
Shortly after Lor''Themar arrived, Koren came flying in on a dragonhawk, and Lady Liadran on a holy steed similar to the one that paladins could summon in game.
Koren was looking haggard, and worse for wear, however, he still came up to Varrus, and offered up a grin as well as a short bow.
¡°I hope you can find the kindness in your heart to forgive my brother, he is¡misguided. I know I can convince him to recant his stance.¡± Koren said, much to the general interest of the crowd if the sudden silence was anything to go by.
¡°We shall determine his fate after the proceedings have gotten underway. But all I can say for now, is that I have no plans on executing him, you can rest assured.¡± Varrus said, holding up a hand to forestall any further argument, and gestured towards a seat next to him.
Koren furtively glanced at the other members of the Convocation, then sat down. He puffed his chest up in an attempt to make himself appear confident.
Varrus wanted to place a hand upon his forehead and sigh at his companion''s posturing.
¡°Do not trouble yourself over this matter Koren, what is done is done. Focus now on what we can do for our people, on our mission.¡± Varrus consoled.
¡°Yes, you are right. There is nothing more important than the revival of the Sunwell! I am sorry Highlord, I simply forgot myself in sorrow for a moment.¡± Koren replied with a sunny smile.
Varrus felt grim at such a response, but chose to remain silent.
¡°No need for titles at this grand event my boy, we are all councilors here, all with equal standing. Why, even those of us who never held a leadership position sit upon this table, Isn''t that right, Thaladred?¡± Tae''thelon said, gesturing towards the statuesque plate of armor that was their council''s warrior representative.
The silence became ice cold, and it felt like a darkness was brewing deep within Thaladred, as if he would unleash violence at any moment.
This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.
¡°I''m not late, am I?¡± Liadran said, as she emerged from the stairs, and was the only member of the Convocation to have entered the venue like a normal person.
¡°Haha, welcome, welcome Lady Liadran, of course you are right on time! We are all acquainted with one another, but perhaps an introduction is in order. Why don''t we begin with you, madame?¡± Varrus smiled, and clapped in an attempt to draw everyone away from Tae''thelon''s instigation.
Once everyone came to sit at the table, Varrus activated the wards, and no noise could escape the area.
¡°Well, my name is Liadran, and I was a priestess for centuries before becoming a paladin. I don''t understand why I of all people was chosen to sit on the Convocation, I think there are priests or paladins much more worthy than me to be here¡but since you all have welcomed me, I hope to work well with everyone, and see Azeroth, and her people healed.¡± Liadran said bashfully, and a little nervously at first, but as soon as she spoke of healing others, she spoke with passion and care.
The red headed paladin was a beautiful woman, one who Varrus initially chose due to her future role in Canon as leader of the Blood Knights, Silvermoon''s premier paladin organization. Now, however, he appreciated that-at least so far-she appeared to be a well balanced, genuinely caring person.
If they were to govern the country, having someone with compassion on the council would do well to counterbalance some of the stereotypical Blood Elven sense of smug superiority.
¡°A fair maiden such as you belongs here, do not be shy, own the moment. Bravo!¡± Tae''thelon clapped, to which Varrus, Koren, and Lor''Themar joined in.
¡°I saw you prioritize creating bubble shields, and healing the wounded during the war on the beach. Without you, Liadran, we would have lost well over a thousand troops. You belong here the same as everyone else.¡± Lor''Themar comforted with a smile.
¡°You have pretty hair. I, I mean, red is hot when flapping in the winds, it is a valiant color symbolizing strength and unity!¡± Koren stuttered out.
¡°Thank you, all of you, you are too kind. I look forward to helping each and every one of us pull this country out of the depths of despair. I especially have to thank you, Highlord Vandercross.¡± Liadran bowed graciously as she took her seat.
Varrus idly noted Tae''thelon frown at the address, yet was to shocked by what Liadran said to pay it much mind.
¡°I¡¯m sorry? I''m a married man, Lady Liadran.¡± Varrus was quick to play defense, and waved his hands in front of him like he was warding off a swarm of bees.
¡°Haha, you are funny too! No silly, I, and many practitioners of the Light were in awe of your devotion. We had never seen healing like what you had done.¡±
¡°It¡¯s not that impressive.¡± Varrus waved her away, and grabbed a cookie to distract himself from the praise of a beautiful woman.
¡®There are only cookies. My wife baked them for me. I am not interested in this red haired beauty! There are only cookies. My wife baked them for me. I am not interested in this hot chick¡¯s booty!¡¯ Varrus mentally said as a mantra to keep himself focused on the one and only love of his life.
¡°No, it is. Healing all of Silvermoon¡it was inspiring. The Abbot and I, all the faithful really, would love to hear you speak. You must come to the church for a sermon!¡± Liadran spoke with a sparkle in her eyes.
Good Lord, there was a second one!
Varrus glanced at Koren, expecting to see the same hero worship in his eyes that he saw in Liadrans, but instead he was greeted with hostility!
What the hell man, keep your emotions in check!
¡°Ahem, I¡¯ll think about it, I am very busy these day, but we can see if my schedule frees up some time¡¡± Varrus said vaguely, and caught an elbow to the side under the table from Lor''Themar.
¡®Seriously old man, piss off! You¡¯re how old and engaging in this juvenilism?¡¯ Varrus mentally screamed as he gave the Ranger General the stink eye.
¡°Yes, yes, we¡¯re all very busy, my name is Koren Vongstag, leader of House Vongstag, as well as the Knights of the Hawk. I fought besides the Highlord, and together, we secured all of the Western Capitol. My base of operations is Sunstrider Isle, where not one single soul was lost to the Scourge!¡± Koren proudly spoke, firing off his self accolades like a machine gun, all the while staring at Liadran like a puppy begging for a treat.
¡°...¡±
Silence met Koren¡¯s enthusiastic outburst, and no one spoke up for an awkward amount of time.
¡°Riiight. Koren here is a valuable asset, and is a genuine Hero of the people. He sacrificed his longtime companion, and personal dragonhawk to blind the Void creature, Kith''ix. His bravery, and support of Prince Kael¡¯Thas saw us win the skies over the battle of the beach. A round of applause for Sky Marshal Koren.¡± Varrus said, inventing a new title, and boosting up Koren''s prestige amongst these ancient Elves.
Everyone, bar Thaladred, politely clapped along at the end of Varrus¡¯ speech.
Koren sat back down, cheeks running flush, yet he shot Varrus a grateful look. The blonde twin to Dakar was handsome for an Elf, and probably accustomed to women falling for him.
It amused Varrus that Liadran either ignored him, or was oblivious to his ques. Whatever the case, Varrus had had to stand up for his boy.
¡°Headmaster Tae''thelon, why don''t you go next?¡± Varrus suggested.
¡°Me? Oh very well. I was an educator, as everyone is well aware, but I much prefer to be known as the High Examiner. My pursuits in Titan archeotech have elevated me beyond such mundane pursuits as teaching academia. I find learning directly from research is much more fulfilling than having it handed to oneself.¡± Tae''thelon said, whilst floating three inches above the cushion of his seat.
¡®Pretentious prick.¡¯ Varrus thought to himself as he nibbled once more on his wife''s delicious cookies.
¡°A thousand years of research for a half finished golem that must be operated from the inside, and not remotely or autonomously. Truly, Tae''thelon, you have elevated yourself.¡± Telonicus said dryly.
¡°Telonicus! You of all people have no right to criticize my methods. How long have you been working on that Void-whatsa-convertor?¡± Tae''thelon bit back.
¡°For the sake of efficiency, I will assume the Headmaster has finished introducing himself. My name is Telonicus, Royal Engineer.¡± Telonicus simply stated, much to the ire of Tae''thelon, if the scholar''s twitching face was anything to go by.
¡°Ah ha ha, Thaladred the Darkener, how about you? I see you haven''t touched a cookie yet, take a bite, and share a little bit about yourself.¡± Varrus spoke up to cut through Tae''thelon''s feud.
¡°The cookies are a lie.¡± Thaladred rasped.
Thaladred then shakily pushed the platter away from himself as if they held some dark secrets only he was privy to.
What a fun and engaging team this was turning out to be! Varrus would easily lead the Sin''Dorei out of their slump with leaders like this. Not!
Varrus felt like banging his head into the table, and vomiting at the same time.
It didn''t help that the Ranger General sitting besides him held a perfectly demure poker face at all times. However, the side eyed glances, and frequent elbow bumps Varrus had been receiving throughout the evening gave away the old Elf''s amusement.
¡®Prick.¡¯ Varrus thought for the umpteenth time that night.
When Varrus was going to speak up, and ask the Ranger General to speak, Lor''Themar beat him to the punchline.
¡°We all know who we are. You know who I am, and what I''ve sacrificed. You know who the boy is, and all his baggage. None of that matters now that we share this table. Now that we''re here, let''s get down to business.¡± Lor''Themar growled, commanding the table''s occupants to all snap their attention toward the grizzled war hero.
Woah. He knew getting this guy would work out!
¡°First Seat, what is the day''s agenda?¡± Lor''Themar questioned.
¡°Ahem, there''s a lot to go through, so prepare yourself for a long night.¡± Varrus said, and began handing out folders containing pictures, numbers, and other details.
The first true meeting of the Convocation had officially begun.
Chapter 46
¡°There is much to get through, so as the First Seat, I have decided to set an agenda to keep ourselves focused. If you''ll open your folders, you''ll see on the front page a list of topics for us to discuss.¡± Varrus said, and pointed at the sheets of paper he had handed out.
Topics:
1) Actions to be taken after the immediate aftermath of the Troll War/Scourge invasion, and the severity of the Fel energy released into the world last night. How to secure Quel''Thalas.
2) Rebuilding efforts/supply issues.
3) Foreign policy regarding neighboring kingdoms.
4) Low population/birth rate issue.
5) Judicial considerations.
6) The Sunwell.
After everyone had a moment to digest the information that was to be discussed at the meeting, Varrus folded his hands in front of him, and met everyone in the eye to make sure they were prepared.
Unfolding a map of Quel''Thalas on the table, Varrus eyed it for a moment, then began the meeting proper.
¡°Good, we are ready. I believe we are all familiar with the betrayal of Dar''Khan Drathir, and the events leading up to the demise of our fair land, so I will not bore you with the details. However, we must decide on a course of action regarding the removal of Scourge forces from our land, and address the attack that happened upon us last night. Lor''Themar, what insight can you provide as to the state of the land?¡± Varrus opened up.
¡°My rangers report that the majority of the Eversong Woods remains untainted, however, the province of Tha''salah is a near total loss. The decayed land is so ever present, and the wails of banshees so commonplace, my people have dubbed it, the Ghostlands.¡± Lor''Themar seriously intoned.
¡°I can second that report. My knights have been flying patrols, and rescuing any they come across. There are some pockets of resistance within these Ghostlands, however, they are dwindling fast. There is a sizable holdout in the town of Tranquillien-at least a few thousand-but they can''t hold out for long.¡± Koren said with worry.
¡°Hmm, I had taught some classes at Tranquillien in the past. If memory serves correct, the town sits in the center of Tha''salah, pardon, the Ghostlands. I''m no military expert, but this is a prime position to hold, no?¡± Tae''thelon clearly mocked Tha''salah''s rebranded name, but provided decent insight at the same time.
¡°Yes, one could provide reinforcement to any corner of the Ghostlands from this location. I had taken part in Tranquillien''s construction, it is designed as a fortress town for this very purpose.¡± Telonicus claimed. He then pulled out a ruler, and showed that the town was nearly equidistant to the N S E and W of the province.
¡°Those poor people must feel abandoned, how cruel. I volunteer to lead a relief expedition.¡± Liadran said, full of fiery passion.
¡°I also volunteer!¡± Koren was quick to follow up.
¡°The distance from Silvermoon to Tranquillien is a three day journey by foot, one and a half by hawkstrider, and 4 hours by dragonhawk.¡± Telonicus recited like a machine as he stared up at the ceiling in thought.
¡°I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but there is more than one theater of war, unfortunately.¡± Lor''Themar intoned as he began to circle locations on the map.
¡°Within Eversong, a grove of Treants has been raised into undeath, and are currently assaulting Fair Breeze Village to the south-west. Amani survivors fled to the stronghold of Tor''Watha in our south-east, Murlocs and reports of strange tentacle monsters have been causing havoc to our sailors off Sunsail Anchorage in the west, and Kobolds have been making a ruckus near Duskwither Spire to the east. This does not even begin to detail the mess that is the Ghostlands. The only land passage between the two provinces is currently occupied by a standing army controlled by an intelligent Undead. A ground assault upon Tranquillien at this time is untenable.¡± Lor''Themar denied Liadran as he laid out the many hot spots threatening the land.
Varrus nodded his head in appreciation towards Lor''Themar''s forthrightness. Having a military mind sitting at the table was the right call.
¡°So we go by air! Each of my dragonhawks can carry two, maybe three people. Either we reinforce the town, or attempt an evacuation.¡± Koren said in determination.
¡°If memory serves correctly, you claimed to field 183 dragonhawk knights before the Troll War, is that number constant?¡± Telonicus queried.
¡°Well, no, we lost some good people that day, and a few mounts, however, we recovered Amani dragonhawk''s, and our number has tripled since then.¡± Koren said in a mixture of sorrow and pride.
¡°Given Koren¡¯s numbers add up, he should have 549 dragonhawks under his command. Therefore, he can evacuate 1,098 individuals per mission.¡± Telonicus said, whilst doing some quick math.
¡°Mmm, this is quite the conundrum we are facing. War is a numbers game, and 1,098 is not nearly enough. If there are 2,000 or more people within Tranquillien, than reducing the total number would weaken the defenders significantly. Is that a gamble we are willing to take? Think carefully young knight, lives are on the line.¡± Tae''thelon cleaned his monocle as he spoke, and shook his head like Koren was making a bad decision.
¡°Some of our dragonhawks are well trained, and do not require a skilled rider to fly home to Silvermoon. I could free up some riders, leaving them behind for defense and increase the number rescued by a few hundred.¡± Koren said hurriedly, as the room seemed to sour on the idea of an evacuation.
¡°Just go in and smash them, I say. Take me along with you boy, and we''ll make the bastards wish for death.¡± Thaladred slammed the table angrily.
Koren turned to Varrus, seemingly pleading with a puppy dog look in his eyes.
¡°Lady Liadran leading a strike force of¡¡±
¡°1,647¡± Telonicus supplied.
¡°Yes, the strike force of 1,647 including the sub-commanders, Thaladred the Darkener, and Sky Marshal Koren shall relieve Tranquillien. Their mission is to evacuate the survivors, and/or depending on the assessment of the commanders, hold the town until such a time that reinforcements from Silvermoon can provide further support.¡± Varrus suggested.
¡°And what of the other enemies plaguing our land? What of Fairbreeze? Of Sunsail Anchorage, or Dusk Spire?¡± Lor''Themar pressed.
¡°Ignore the Trolls, the Murlocs and Kobolds. The lesser races are nothing in the face of the Scourge.¡± Tae''thelon scoffed as he munched on one of Syra''s cookies.
¡°Ignoring these ¡®lesser races¡¯ is what led to the situation we are in, Headmaster. I say we send the Prince to put out these fires. His new army is untested in battle. Fighting against foes other than the endless tide of Undead will be a good method to bloody themselves.¡± Varrus refuted Tae''thelon, whilst also championing his friend.
¡°Oh very well, Vandercross, I do say, keeping the Prince focused is a good idea. That speech of his was much too passionate for my taste. No, what we need is a rational hand to guide his actions, one that is systematic in eradicating our enemies.¡± Tae''thelon nodded toward Varrus, seemingly flipping on his position at the flip of a coin.
Varrus glanced at Lor''Themar, and swore he saw the shadow of a grin, but it was probably just his eyes playing tricks on him. The old bastard only seemed to smile when he was inflicting punishment.
¡°It''s settled then, Prince Kael¡¯Thas will run the Sunfury (the official name of Kael¡¯Thas¡¯ army) on a cleansing effort across Eversong, whilst our council shall shore up the defenses of Tranquillien. Before we move on to the next topic, let us discuss the emergence of Fel energies the other night. Tae''thelon, Telonicus, Liadran, your thoughts?¡± Varrus questioned those who were more magically attuned.
¡°I have studied history all my life, what we experienced last night was no freak Felstorm. Oh no, this pernicious energy heralds something much more dire!¡±
¡°Stop being so dramatic, and tell us your hypothesis, Tae''thelon.¡± Telonicus grated out.
¡°This is an invasion, an invasion from the Burning Legion!¡± Tae''thelon ignored the engineer, and gestured grandly at the rest of the Convocation.
¡°I thought the Legion was driven from Azeroth 10,000 years ago during the Sundering. Don''t we have standing stones spread throughout the kingdom designed to prevent their return?¡± Koren questioned.
¡°The rune stones lost the majority of their power with the destruction of the Sunwell. They feed upon the leylines for now, however, this is insufficient. Should the Legion attack, we are vulnerable. However, if i was given an ample power supply, the stones could generate anti-Fel manawaves once more, thoroughly handicapping any demonic invasion. Preventing portals and dampening the power of unauthorized magic users within Quel''Thalas is one of their key features.¡± Telonicus said as he scribbled out some math on the document in front of him, and glanced up at Varrus.
This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.
¡°Yes, yes, we shall discuss Mana Stone distribution after the meeting. Each of you can send me a letter detailing your expenses, and I¡¯ll see what I can do.¡± Varrus tiredly waved off Tae''thelon and Telonicus as they appeared ready to argue over the distribution of energy at the drop of a hat.
¡°The Fel energy was potent. Is there anything else we can do to prevent an invasion from the demons? Everyone looks so confident, but I am not so certain. If I am ignorant, please enlighten me.¡± Liadran looked around the table in confusion at how bl¨¤se everyone was treating the Burning Legion.
¡°Look girly, we just took a surprise blow below the belt. Within a day of that, we murdered the Amani, and are united in our thirst for revenge. Nothing, and I mean nothing is standing in the way of our rise.¡± Thaladred snarled.
¡°Whilst the delivery was, hmm, coarse, the Darkeners sentiment stands. The rune stones camouflage Quel''Thalas from scrying, and slowly sap the mana from our enemies. Demons, my dear Liadran, are beings of pure mana. The drain upon them is thrice or even quadruple what a corporeal being would experience. I may disparage Telonicus for his choice of magicraft, but the standing stones are a work of art. Trust in the wisdom of your elders.¡± Tae''thelon gently admonished.
¡°How kind of you.¡± Telonicus said dryly.
¡°Kindness is the quality of being kind, gracious or considerate. I speak none of that, only fact.¡± Tae''thelon shook his head, and spoke sternly.
¡°Gentleman! I have more to add to the story. We need not worry about the Legion for now, as a source of mine within the ruins of Dalaran overheard the demonic leadership discuss their goal. Their target is upon the continent of Kalimdor.¡± Varrus lied, and used his knowledge of Canon to diffuse any of his fellow councilors'' worries.
He then unfurled a world map, and pointed at the continent westward, across the sea.
¡°If this information is to be trusted, this is good news indeed. However, I say we prioritize the restoration of the rune stones. If nothing else, they will help act as a deterrent against the Undead and other pests plaguing our land.¡± Lor''Themar suggested.
¡°But can they remove the stain known as the Dead Scar? My fellow priests and paladins have given it our all, and cannot remove the necrotic taint from our land.¡± Liadran said hopefully, towards Telonicus, clasping her hands.
¡°That remains to be seen, my Lady. I must run diagnostics, and many tests upon the diseased soil before I can even begin to design a formula for the mana frequency that might subvert the corruption.¡± Telonicus rattled off.
¡°In plain Thalassian, Telonicus, the attention span of our peers is ephemeral.¡± Tae''thelon mocked.
¡°Then, no, I do not know.¡± Telonicus shook his head at the crestfallen, red headed beauty.
¡°Fortunately, I have a solution. I tested my magic earlier today before a meeting with the Prince, and discovered that I can cure our blighted land. However, it is a great financial burden, and is a costly drain on my coffers.¡± Varrus managed to say with a straight face.
Heck, it''s not like he was lying!
¡°Yes, yes, we all want a piece of the pie, dispense with the faux humility. If civic pride and responsibility will not move you, what is it that you desire for completing this meritorious action?¡± Tae''thelon saw through the bullshit, and tiredly waved Varrus off with the back of his hand.
¡°Highlord Vandercross would never-!¡± Koren bit out, and furiously stood from his chair, only to be interrupted by Varrus pulling him back down.
¡°I want nothing much, nothing but a gold coin for every acre of land I purify.¡±
¡°Hmm, not so outrageously unreasonable. Telonicus, how many acres are within Quel''Thalas?¡± Tae''thelon queried.
¡°The entire country contains 30 million acres.¡± Telonicus listed off a beat later.
The entire table-Lor''themar and Thaladred included-inhaled a collective hiss at the astronomically high figure.
¡°Yes, but perhaps only a tenth of Eversong is corrupted.¡± Varrus shrugged his shoulders like it was no big deal.
¡°As if we had forgotten about the, ugh, Ghostlands OR the island of Quel''Danas? That''s practically 8 million gold coins!¡± Tae''thelon scoffed in derision.
¡°13 million.¡± Telonicus corrected.
¡°That''s quite the scam, boy, impressive.¡± Thaladred said in shocked respect.
¡°What do you need so much coin for?¡± Lor''Themar asked in curiosity.
The rest of the Convocation looked on, just as curious.
¡°Whilst gold has significantly dropped in value with my introduction of Mana Stones into the market, it is still a valuable token of exchange between the other races. Perhaps one day, it will become the staple currency of Quel''Thalas once more. Regardless, I intend to secure as many advantages for our people as possible, and money is simply a means to an end. Besides, what do any of you care? You want my Mana Stones, and a plague free country, yeah?¡± Varrus shook his head, and stubbornly crossed his arms.
Stunned silence met Varrus, and no one seemed to know what to say, or kept their thoughts private.
¡°A vote then, on this topic, and the deployment of troops.¡± Varrus said, and banged a gavel on the table.
A beat passed, and seven ¡®ayes¡¯ rang out, showing their approval.
Although Tae''thelon looked reluctant, Varrus figured he didn''t want to disagree on the council''s first official meeting.
¡°Then whilst Thaladred, Liadran, and Koren are reinforcing the town of Tranquillien, Telonicus is restoring the rune stones, Lor¡¯Thenar is leading his rangers, and you are purifying the land, what would you have me do?¡± Tae''thelon spoke up.
¡°I¡¯m resigning from the Ranger Generalship to devote myself to the Convocation full time.¡± Lor''Themar interjected.
The table seemed to collectively hiss at Lor''Themar¡¯s statement. It was like a bomb had been dropped atop everyone¡¯s heads, as they grappled with this sudden influx of knowledge.
¡°And replace it with whom? I am sorry old sport, but you are the only one fit for the position!¡± Tae''thelon harshly disagreed.
¡°Please do not do this! The amount of lives you saved in the last few days are still grateful towards you, Lor''Themar. I have heard many prayers blessing you as their savior. Please, Ranger General!¡± Liadran said, and reached her fair hands out to grasp upon the elder Elf¡¯s forearm.
¡°There was a 65% chance the city would have fallen during the Scourge attack without your leadership.¡± Telonicus added.
¡°I have served under the Ranger General, and seen her act as both a military figure, as well as a politician. It is a severe conflict of interest, to be beholden to the crown as an officer, yet hold political office competing in power with that same monarch. I am sorry, but I do not wish to be both.¡± Lor''Themar shook his head, and looked askance towards Varrus.
For Varrus, he was in a sticky spot. On one hand, he truly believed Lor''Themar would excel as Ranger General. On the other hand, he had made promises to Halduron Brightwing, Commander of the Farstriders.
However Halduron was highly suspicious within the dungeon, and Varrus was uncertain as to where his loyalties lied. The fact that the Commander was willing to assassinate Lor''Themar sometime in the next decade to claim his spot did not speak highly of his character.
Lor''Themar may have made many mistakes, but he was a true patriot. However, perhaps in Halduron¡¯s eyes, the fuck up of trusting Drathir Dar''Khan was the straw that broke the camels back. Or perhaps Halduron was just power hungry. Varrus did not know.
What he did know, is that the people loved Lor''Themar. He was a Hero that the civilians had directly witnessed as he saved over 100,000 people. His popularity was no less than Kael''s at the moment, and was the glue that Varrus needed to make the Convocation more palatable as a leading organization.
The fear tactics Varrus had enacted at the funeral rally when he shoehorned Jan''alai¡¯s acceptance amongst Elven ranks were not exactly inspiring.
Varrus had come to a conclusion. He had to keep Lor''Themar in both roles.
¡°At the request of His Majesty, I intend to name Halduron Brightwing, Commander of the Farstriders as my replacement.¡± Lor''Themar said as he unfurled a fancy scroll containing the Prince¡¯s signature.
¡°Nonsense, Lor''Themar. You must remain as Ranger General, and as a member of this Convocation. The people trust you, and I fear that the rangers may disdain the commands of this body without you sitting upon it. Please. Reconsider.¡± Varrus said imploringly.
Lor''Themar opened his mouth as if to disagree, however, Liadran¡¯s hand on his forearm tightened, and seeing the look of hope upon her face, the elder Elf could only tiredly sigh.
¡°Very well, this old Elf shall remain as Ranger General. But once all this nonsense has boiled over, and we are at peace once more, I will stick with one role or the other.¡± Lor''Themar rubbed his forehead, and lightly chided Varrus.
¡°Thank you, and welcome back Ranger General. If it assuages your fears, I say we promote Halduron to Vice General so that when you ¡®retire¡¯, he can be in a better position to succeed you.¡± Varrus suggested.
Whilst Halduron was a suspicious character, that didn''t mean he wanted the Commander to know that he was on to him. If Varrus was questioned by the Commander as to why he never received his promotion to Ranger General, Varrus could claim he fought for him, but was rejected by a majority vote. He could, however, earn some trust by showing him this promotion.
¡°Alright then, on to the next topic. How to restore Silvermoon.¡± Varrus said happily, knowing he had secured Lor''Themar.
¡°Ahem.¡± Tae''thelon coughed lightly into his hand.
Varrus looked over in confusion.
Similarly, Liadran, and Koren appeared just as befuddled as Varrus.
The educator was turning red in the face, and looked like he was about to erupt, before calming himself, and lightly chuckling. He was about to say something now that he had regained his composure, only to be interrupted by his rival.
¡°Your skills would best be served by restoring the teleportation network. To justify the vast number of Mana Stones you¡¯ll be requesting from Vandercross, you must put in the work.¡± Telonicus spoke up for Tae''thelon.
¡°It¡¯s settled then! We all have our missions. Next topic!¡± Varrus banged the gavel on the table in jubilation.
Tae''thelon was sour, but Varrus didn''t care. He had money on his mind.
Money with which he could hire adventurers and mercenaries. Money used to bribe spies into his pocket, and buy enough adamantium to forge his wife a god-tier buster sword.
The shine of gold just around the corner set Varrus¡¯ inner loot Goblin ablaze.
What a glorious day!
Chapter 47
¡°Now that we have addressed the immediate security concerns of this nation, it is time to focus our efforts on reconstructing Silvermoon. Our food supply is secure for now, and in fact, we have an overabundance, however, it is building materials I am most concerned with.¡± Varrus said, then changed the maps that depicted the Eversong/Ghostlands regions out for a map of Silvermoon.
On the map, areas that faced total destruction were highlighted in red, serious damage in orange, moderate damage yellow, and undamaged in green.
Based upon a percentage, the citywide destruction level looked something like:
Red: 10%
Orange: 30%
Yellow: 30%
Green: 30%
The harm done to the city was like the aftermath of a tsunami. The epicenter, that being the direct path of the Scourge forces forming the Dead Scar, comprised all the red zones. Then, as distance from the Dead Scar increased, the less damage was done to the buildings further away.
It made sense, but to Varrus, he was surprised that such a chaotic force like an Undead horde could keep its aggression focused in such a limited area.
If anything, that level of control only spoke to the terrifying micromanaging skills of Arthas and the Lich King.
Varrus swore that the Lich King must be some isekai pro Korean RTS gamer, bitter at life. Because the way he managed hundreds of thousands, or more likely, millions of Undead, was astounding.
¡°You seem to have reconstruction well underhand, Vandercross. You mentioned some concerns, but is it truly necessary to include us in this diatribe?¡± Tae''thelon yawned.
¡°At this time? No. However, I am quickly running out of supplies, and I doubt the 30,000 bricks I have cast are enough to reconstruct an apartment complex.¡± Varrus said, furrowing his brow.
¡°Analyzing the damage, I estimate at least 25 million bricks will be necessary for repairs.¡± Telonicus spoke with his head down whilst he was performing even more math upon his folder. The document hardly resembled a professional looking folder anymore as scribbles and foreign looking characters threatened to give Varrus a headache.
¡°My architect says I have enough clay in reserve to create 150,000 more bricks. We simply do not have the materials to rebuild the city.¡± Varrus was quick to shake his head.
¡°So we don''t rebuild, big deal! Killing the Undead is all that matters!¡± Thaladred said in anger, squeezing his fists tight, and unclenching them like he was about to choke something.
¡°And allow ourselves to live in squalor? Perish the thought! There must be some means to solve this issue.¡± Tae''thelon admonished, then began to stroke his chin.
Privately, Varrus agreed with Thaladred, leaving some of the city to ruins wasn''t a terrible idea if it meant focusing on the very real, very deadly threat to the south.
However, smug Elves were going to smug, and if Tae''thelon''s reaction was anything to go by, then there could be riots should Silvermoon remain damaged.
Besides, nothing said ¡®illegitimate government¡¯ than leaving your capital city in ruins. Rebuilding Silvermoon was important for morale, and stood as a symbol of civic pride. To show the Blood Elves that though they were beaten, they were unbroken.
Varrus racked his brains for a solution, but he didn''t know where they could get so much clay.
¡°What about the Humans? The Kul''Tirans or the Gilneans have large fleets, perhaps they would be willing to trade with us?¡± Liadran suggested.
¡°Unlikely. Our fleet out at sea attempted to recruit allies from Kul''Tiras to combat the Scourge, but we''re rejected at Port. Their fear of plague has seen them isolate themselves. Meanwhile, the Gilneans shot upon us with cannon fire.¡± Lor''Themar informed the council.
¡°I suppose that kills the foreign diplomacy portion of this round table.¡± Varrus bitterly chuckled.
¡°As if we could rely upon the Humans in the first place. We never should have taught them magic, or the teachings of the Light. Without them, this Scourge never would''ve happened.¡± Thaladred angrily growled.
¡°Varrus, I mean, Highlord, I think I have an idea!¡± Koren excitedly shouted, like a child raising his hand to answer a question for his favorite teacher.
¡°Let''s hear it.¡± Varrus perked up from his slouch as he finally heard some good news.
¡°When I was a boy, my brother and I would fly around and inside these huge hallowed out caves. I didn''t think much of it, but inside, there was tons of clay.¡± Koren said with great enthusiasm.
¡°Can you point out where it was?¡± Varrus said, once more unfurling a map of Eversong.
¡°Somewhere off the east coast¡here!¡± Koren pointed out a spot just a mile south of Duskwither Spire.
¡°The place infested with Kobolds? We should prioritize the elimination of these vermin first thing! Let the Sunfury wet their blades upon those rats, I can think of no better creatures for the Prince¡¯s new army than them.¡± Tae''thelon uttered in disgust, and open hostility.
To be fair, Kobolds were literal humanoid rats given form, but Tae''thelon¡¯s naked hostility was quite overbearing for Varrus.
Unfortunately for the elder educator, Varrus had alternative thoughts on this whiskered rave known for their superb mining ability.
¡°Hold up on that thought, Headmaster. I think I''ve found the perfect labor force to mine this clay.¡± Varrus said, rubbing his chin as a plan was coming together.
¡°You cannot be serious Vandercross. The Kobolds? Really?¡±
¡°Considering the labor shortage, it would be illogical to attempt and meet our demand with Elven hands. In fact, the last time an Elf mined ore, or other materials, was 2,111 years ago when teaching the Humans to do it for us.¡± Telonicus said almost immediately after Tae''thelon¡¯s outburst.
¡°Always with the logic, Telonicus. Why can you not see that we are better than relying upon those ingrates?¡±
¡°You would begrudge others working for the Blood Elves, Tae''thelon? I didn''t take you for that kind of Elf.¡± Varrus said, switching gears from a pragmatic mind to one only a smug Elf would understand.
¡°Hmm, the vermin are only fit for feeding my dogs, but very well, I will vote in favor of this idiocy.¡± Tae''thelon waved his hand off, and barely seemed to maintain his composure.
Varrus wondered why the guy had so much resentment, and naked vitriol towards the rodents, did they eat his wife or something? But Varrus wasn''t curious enough to go RPG spelunking, and investigate the case or something.
¡°It¡¯s settled then, we¡¯ll take the Kobolds of Duskwither Spire off the cleansing list, and I¡¯ll take a crack at getting them to see things my way.¡± Varrus smiled.
¡°Hah, good luck. I¡¯very tried attempting communication with the bastards for centuries. Little beasts are nothing but trouble.¡± Tae''thelon scoffed.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.
Varrus barely held back laughter as this news came to light. It would seem Tae''thelon¡¯s grudge was due to wounded pride, and failure.
Hah!
¡°Do not think I cannot see your shoulders rise in laughter, Telonicus, you too Vandercross! Failure is the mother of learning, I shouldn''t have to teach you two that which you have already experienced!¡±
¡°Okay, you¡¯ve made your point.¡± Varrus chuckled at the affronted look Tae''thelon was throwing his way, and put his hands up for calm.
¡°As discussed earlier, the few Human kingdoms nearby have been unresponsive to our pleas, and it''s safe to assume that the worst has befallen the kingdom of Lordaeron.¡±
¡°What of Alterac, or Stromgarde?¡± Koren questioned.
¡°From what little I know, Alterac has fallen to multiple factions. A tribe of Orcs known as the Frostwolves, a clan of Ogres, and Humans turned bandits are the primary forces controlling the snowy land. As for Stromgarde, that ancient seat of humanity''s first empire is embroiled in a civil war. Information is sketchy at best, but it is safe to say that we can rely upon no allies from the realms of man.¡± Varrus explained the situation, relying upon his meta knowledge to describe the current world events.
¡°While the capital city of Lordaeron has fallen, that isn''t entirely true for the outlying towns. Scouting reports detail a man named Garithos has claimed leadership of the Alliance, and is fighting the Scourge within the greater Lordaeron area.¡± Lor''Themar chimed in.
¡°Good, the more the Humans struggle, the greater the eyes of the Scourge shall be drawn to them. They may be a shortsighted race, prone to violence, but they are a resilient lot.¡± Tae''thelon said with equal parts disdain, and grudging respect.
¡°What if we supplied them with goods such as clean food and weapons where we can, but otherwise focus on our own borders until we can find a better solution?¡± Varrus posited.
¡°Leave them to suffer, their own fool Prince brought this upon them, it is not our problem.¡± Thaladred disagreed.
¡°We cannot leave our fellow children of the Light to suffer, we must do something!¡± Liadran interjected, and said in an appeal to their emotion.
¡°The logistics of transporting goods overland is impossible, only by sea could we deposit the foodstuffs in any meaningful quantity. Where is this Garithos, and could he meet our supply line?¡± Telonicus queried as he began plotting out possible drop off points on the map.
¡°I can spare a few rangers to act as scouts for the Humans, and not much else. Tae''thelan has the right of it. The longer the Humans hold out, the more time we will have to restore the rune stone network, and secure Quel''Thalas.¡± Lor''Themar suggested.
Koren was about to speak up, but was cut off by Varrus.
¡°Don''t even think about volunteering your dragonhawks beyond one or two to act as scouts, Koren. We have thousands of rangers, but only a scant few hundred dragonhawks. They are needed in defense of the mainland.¡± Varrus held up a hand, forestalling any argument.
¡°Lady Liadran is right, we can''t stand by and do nothing. If the Alliance falls, the Scourge will come for us next!¡± Koren said in righteous anger.
¡°We are doing all we can. Fresh food, and a scout''s information supply half the equation to any successful military force. We will fight side by side with the Humans in due time. For now, however, we must clean up our own home before we can even begin to think of meddling in someone else''s''.¡± Varrus spoke calmly in an attempt to get through to the Liadran fanboy, as well as to soothe the red headed paladin''s need for compassion.
¡°I know what you say makes sense, Highlord, but my heart bleeds for the innocent.¡± Liadran said, placing a hand over her chest, and crying a single tear in pity.
¡°Save us your tears my dear, they are all illiterate peasants! That, or so-called nobles who''s only achievement is mimicking our society in some primitive apery. Even the poorest Elf can enjoy the benefits of running water, indoor heating, and the freedom of movement. Whilst I admire their resolve, that does not mean we should sacrifice ourselves for another!¡± Tae''thelon ranted, as he dismissed Liadran¡¯s plea.
¡°As amusing as your mixed viewpoint is, Tae''thelon, the Humans have proven themselves to be valuable allies in the past, and effective trading partners. In fact, this directly transitions into the next topic, our low birthrate, and the difficulty we face with repopulation.¡± Varrus said sarcastically, before pivoting towards another major topic of discussion.
¡°I do not follow. Are you suggesting that there is some correlation between the Humans and increasing our populace? Because if you are, that is a sick suggestion.¡± Tae''thelon shook his head in disgust.
¡°Really? Telonicus, can you tell us the average birth rate?¡± Varrus raised an eyebrow, and turned to the mathematical savant.
¡°200 Elves are born every year on average. Over the last 5,000 years of Quel''Thalas¡¯ history, this has led to barely more than 1,000,000 Elves.¡± Telonicus boredly intoned, as if listing off the information barely stimulated him.
¡°And between all of the Eastern Kingdoms, there are what, 30 million souls?¡± Varrus said, crossing his arms.
¡°70~ million in total, as far as my estimates go. 25 in Lordaeron, 18 in Stromgarde, 2 in Alterac, 15 in Gilneas, 9 million in Kul''Tiras, and a few tens of thousands within the city state of Dalaran.¡± Telonicus droned on.
¡°Thank you Telonicus. So as you can see, the Humans-who arrived on this continent long after us-have more than seventy times our population at its peak.¡± Varrus held his hands wide in explanation.
¡°Are ye suggesting we fuck the Humans?¡± Thaladred asked, tilting his head to the side, and asking with a peculiar tone of voice.
¡°Is that possible? I''ve heard rumors of halfbreeds, but most families hush things up before any conclusive evidence could come to light.¡± Lor''Themar questioned, and stroked his goatee in thought.
¡°It is a viable means of reproduction. Furthermore, there is a half-Elf child who looks identical to an Elf, sharing no obvious traits from his Human father. The Hero who closed the Dark Portal, and Lord Commander of the Alliance, Turalyon had a child with Alleria Windrunner. The product of their love is Arator, a boy residing in Stormwind. His life is proof of our two species'' compatibility.¡± Varrus pulled upon his knowledge of canon to explain.
¡°I knew the Prince was a human sympathizer, but a Vandercross as well?! Oh, how your father would be rolling in his grave my dear boy.¡± Tae''thelon clicked his tongue, and tiredly wiped his monocle clean for the thousandth time.
¡°While it is¡strange, the Light calls for love amongst all sentient beings. I hold no judgemental biases over this suggestion.¡± Liadran slowly added on.
¡°How intriguing. Is the fertility rate increased? Will an Elf male impregnate a Human female as she menstruates? This concept serves for further study.¡± Telonicus said with some energy, and for the first time since he sat down at the table,seemed to be enthused.
The scandalized look on Tae''thelon''s face, and subtle grin on Lor''Themar''s wanted Varrus to face palm, and bury his head in the table.
But at the same time, he somehow¡won?!
He expected condemnation¡but why did half the Elves at the table react with horniness!?
Hell, even Mr. Doom and Gloom, Thaladred the Darkener was seemingly lost in thought at the implications!
Leave it up to a race of immortals to be interested in spreading their wild oats. Now he knew why there were so many myths of Demigods spread across Earth.
Long life led to boredom, but horni lived on forever.
Well¡at least the low Elf population in 20 years would no longer be a problem¡right?
Was Varrus actually going to pass a law or policy encouraging Human copulation?
¡°Then, does this resolution to explore newfound means to expand the population of our race pass?¡± Varrus said in confusion as he put forth an official document detailing the possible benefits towards their races resurgence.
Tae''thelon pulled out a flask of some mystery fluid from his coat pocket, and drank it like some jaded cop. He raised no objections, but he also looked like a man who had lost a piece of himself.
Liadran and Lor''Themar abstained from voting, and the rest were ayes.
Thaladred and Telonicus, despite both being fully decked out in full plate armor, were giving off the most excited vibes.
The Darkener was no longer silently brooding at the cookies that Syra had baked, but was instead sitting like the thinker, with his fist resting on his chin.
Whilst the Chief Royal Engineer was busy drawing all sorts of scribbles regarding anatomy, and other reproductive factoids.
It was honestly the least expected outcome from such a smug, and elitist race.
Varrus didn''t foresee half-bloods becoming popular per se, but from what he overheard from the communal pleasure halls in his mansion, the Blood Elves got freaky.
Who knows, maybe there would be another generation of post war super rebirth like the Baby Boomers after WW2.
Varrus could only hope that there weren''t any negative consequences to this decision.
¡°Okay, this memorandum is a surprise to be sure, but a welcome one. I look forward to your reports, Telonicus. If they are confirmed to be positive, then this document encouraging interspecies copulation as a means to rebuild our race shall be released.¡± Varrus said in amusement.
¡°I will be thorough, you can count on me.¡± Telonicus said with great seriousness.
¡°Riiight. Well, let''s knock the next couple of topics out of the way then, shall we? Every second we delay is time that could be spent on reinforcing Tranquillien, or clearing out plagued land. Onto the next topic!¡± Varrus said with false gusto.
The sooner Varrus could move on from this touchy subject, the better! Already he could see the Headmaster getting a little tipsy. It was time to close out this meeting.
Chapter 48
While Varrus was busy with his meeting, Syra was excitedly going over recipes in the kitchen.
Syra had painstakingly gathered the seasonings required for cookies the night before, and the results spoke for themselves.
Every time she saw him lick some chocolate off his lips, or reach for another one set Syra''s heart aflutter.
Since she set her sights on him decades ago, Syra had been baking, grilling, and engaging in all manner of cooking activities for the day that Varrus would be hers.
Needless to say, Syra was finally living her dream!
Twirling around in the kitchen whilst wearing a cooking apron and little else, Syra eagerly awaited the conclusion of Varrus''s big meeting!
She had caught him staring at her longer than usual whenever she changed her outfits.
That feeling of being coveted, of being desired¡ooo it was the highest high she had ever experienced!
Beams of Holy Light cascaded around Syra, clattering pots and pans as her faith and love powered her Light magic such that she lost control of herself.
Biting her lip, Syra could hardly wait as she felt herself begin to moisten down below.
She was tempted to close her eyes, and imagine his silky smooth hair tickling her chin whilst playing with herself, but such an act seemed like a betrayal of her oath.
Thinking of Varrus just wasn''t the same as mounting Varrus, Syra concluded with surety.
Nodding her head, and clapping her hands against her cheeks, Syra resolved herself to wait throughout the night.
Her man was strong, handsome, and hardworking. Such a brilliant lover deserved a reward!
Working herself up into a frenzy, Syra was preparing a concoction that would turn the both of them into beasts, when she received a message from one of the Vanderguard on her scrying orb.
//A cloaked man fitting the description of Halduron Brightwing has been seen entering the residence of Dakar Vongstag. Should I pursue?\\
//Maintain position. I''ll be arriving shortly.\\ Syra messaged back.
Ice flowed through Syra''s veins as this little hiccup had thrown a wrench into her plans.
Furiously throwing on her usual outfit, Syra gingerly set the apron to the side, then clasped her sword to her back.
Varrus had informed her of Halduron¡¯s suspicious nature whilst they waited for the Prince earlier.
Already wary of this supposed political ally, Syra had sent one of her people to keep tabs on him.
Unfortunately, his skills as a ranger must have given that watcher a slip. Fortunately, she had someone snooping around Dakar¡¯s residence at the moment searching for clues.
Otherwise, she would be none the wiser as to the Farstrider Commander¡¯s whereabouts.
Stomping out of the Vandercross Estate, Syra issued some quick orders to let Varrus know she was going for a stroll, and that she would be back soon.
Outside, and breathing in the cool night air, the moon had gone dark, and only the stars guided her path.
Coating her body in Holy Light, Syra focused all of her energy into her legs, and she moved.
Blitzing through the broken city, she left a crack reminiscent of thunder in her wake as she broke the sound barrier.
Any piece of debris, or tall building was jumped over. What she could not jump over, she went through. Her sword cleaved apart an already broken building, turning it into nothing but rubble.
Uncaring for any obstacle, Syra swiftly homed in on the signal that her subordinates'' scrying orb was emitting.
Following a tiny red dot on her own orb for direction, she had traveled from the bottom left corner of Silvermoon to the top left area in 10 minutes.
It was difficult for her to control the extreme speed granted by Varrus¡¯ enchantments, but when she traveled in a linear path, it was much easier than the precision required for fighting.
Slowing up as she reached the location, Syra''s eyes glowed with a combination of Void and Holy energies.
She ignored her subordinate in favor of analyzing the structure.
Dakar lived in an opulent wing of a small manor, benefiting his status as belonging to a noble House.
Scanning the building with her combined sight, she locked on to a cloaked figure tasting the air, and sniffing the soil.
As soon as she activated her ability, he seemed to sense something, and drew his bow, pointing it at her in a fluid motion taking less than a second.
Arrow poised to release, Syra paid the deadly weapon no mind as she slowly planted her buster sword into the grass at her feet.
Light rays gently wafted around her, and shone upon the ranger''s face, confirming it was Halduron.
¡°Lady Vandercross, I had thought you were some vagabond. Here to investigate Dakar as well, I assume?¡± The handsome blonde lowered his bow, yet left an arrow in the notch.
Syra did not like this veneer of friendliness. The arrow held at the ready set alarm bells off in her head, and if she was going to have a discussion, it was going to be an honest one.
Dashing forward without a word, Syra deflected a magically enchanted arrow, then knee¡¯d the pretty blonde Elf in the gut.
Halduron went for a long curved dagger at his belt, and tried to slash Syra across her midsection, but she knew he would be unable to get through Varrus¡¯ enchantments, or the bubble of Light coating her skin.
She let him helplessly slash a dozen times across her chest, stomach and throat for 2 seconds.
At the same time that Halduron was giving it his all, Syra clamped her hand around his neck, and conjured a chain of pure Light energy.
Pulling tightly, Syra forced him to his knees, and she stepped down upon his dagger wielding hand, eliciting a cry of pain.
Void and Light interplayed in the forming of this chain. With it, Syra could determine truth from lies.
¡°Talk. Why are you investigating Dakar? Why were you in his cell earlier, to threaten him into silence?¡± Syra threatened as she pulled the collar tight.
¡°You truly are..a..Vandercross.¡± Halduron gasped between breaths as he held on to his neck, desperately sucking in what air he could get.
Syra slightly loosened the collar, yet remained staring at him fixedly. Sweet talking to her was smart, but it would only get so much!
¡°I was worried he would be nothing like his father. A family''s word is their bond after all. Who knew that the son was the truly ruthless one.¡± Halduron pitilessly laughed.
¡°Talk.¡± Syra uttered emotionlessly.
¡°Please tell me you are using truth magic. I rather like my neck where it is, you know.¡± Halduron cracked a debonair smile.
Syra merely tightened her grip.
¡°Of course it is, I wouldn''t doubt a Vandercross to act so sloppily.¡± Halduron coughed as Syra loosened the energy chain once more.
¡°The thing is, I am truly indebted to Old Vandercross. When your husband came to me with the intention of a promotion, the debt only increased. When I learned of a plot to assassinate, and undermine the First Seat, I took it upon myself to investigate.¡± Halduron said, lowering his head in self defeat.
The binding pulsed in a way Syra interpreted as the truth. Yet there was more he wasn''t telling her.
¡°You are only a ranger.¡± Syra said incredulously.
¡°Not just any ranger. Why, my Lady Vandercross, you are witness to the Commander of the Farstriders, Silvermoon''s Elite commando unit!¡± Halduron puffed up his chest as if that explained everything.
Clearly unimpressed, Syra hit him with a tilted head, and a flat expressionless face.
¡°Explain.¡± Syra said in a no nonsense tone.
¡°You''re serious then?¡± Halduron''s chest deflated as he looked into Syra''s cold, merciless eyes.
¡°Fair enuff, no need to tighten the collar!¡± Halduron quickly spoke as Syra was indeed about to tighten it.
¡°The King often used me as his premier tracker. Whenever a crime developed, I was the Elf to solve it. Any mana signature, type of spell cast-be they demonic or otherwise-anything that''s trackable really, I can spot them all!¡± Halduron bragged.
¡°Go on then, what have you learned?¡± Syra gestured towards Dakar''s residence.
¡°Well, I''ve only been here a handful of-¡± Halduron got out before he felt his neck tightening.
¡°Ahem-what I mean to say is that someone used polymorph around here recently. In fact, based upon the scent, it was a man appearing as a woman.¡± Halduron stuck his tongue out, and smacked his lips as he tasted the residual mana in the air.
¡°And.¡± Syra leaned forward, causing the Farstrider Commander to gulp.
¡°And I have a direction. I don¡¯t have a specific person in mind, but this scent is oddly familiar. If I had to place it anywhere, it would come from the Royal Palace.¡± Halduron tentatively said.
¡°Good.¡± Syra said, releasing the binding.
Halduron rubbed his hand around his neck, and rose to his feet, then jumped back ten steps, like a cat that had been spooked.
¡°So, happy to make your acquaintance, Lady Vandercross. But I do believe I have other matters to attend to-¡±
¡°I accept your offer to come along. You are most gracious.¡± Syra smiled as another, longer chain spawned in her hands.
The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
¡°That-won''t be necessary, Lady Vandercross. I came here of my own will after all, and am happy to help!¡± Halduron smiled.
¡°Onward, to adventure!¡± Halduron about-faced, and began to walk in the direction of the Royal Palace.
Syra despawned the chain, then followed after the ranger. As she was about to leave Dakar''s residence, a message from Varrus pinged her scrying orb.
//Syra, my love, I am wrapping up things with the Convocation, all is well?\\
//Varrus my star, I am out looking for a flower to press into my journal. I hope you like it~\\
//I miss you. I''ve just sentenced Dakar to an indefinite stay within the dungeon, please do not take his life. I love you.\\
//I love you too. Wait for me, my love.\\ Syra finished her message with a smile as she pictured the praise he would rain upon her once she captured his detractor.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Whilst Varrus had moved on to the next topic to discuss Dakar¡¯s continued incarceration, and Syra had left for the hunt, other developments were underway within Silvermoon.
Within the Royal Palace was the Grand Magister''s Spire. The seat of the Order of Magisters, this once bustling temple devoted to the regulation and study of Arcane stood silent.
Within the twilight of nights embrace, the hallways of this grand edifice were dark as midnight black.
All save one.
Within the Grand Magister''s chambers, Rommath sat eerily still within a circle of runic inscriptions.
To his left was a foul, Void tainted totem from the Trolls, to his right was a collection of Fel empowered Infernal cores, and directly in front of him was the hammer of a devout paladin. The three items of conflicting natures seemed to tremble in one another''s presence, and threatened to cause a magically induced catastrophe.
Muttering a soft chant, Rommath rearranged the hieroglyphics surrounding him into specific patterns. The trembling ceased, and the air around the three objects became stable.
Once he was satisfied with the arrangement, the characters began to float off the ground for a moment, then tattoo themselves onto his flesh. A moment later, and the characters became invisible to the naked eye, like lotion being absorbed into skin.
At the same time, wisps of Void, Fel, and Light energy wafted out of the three items, and were sucked into Rommath''s nostrils like vapor from a respirator.
Deep wells of mana within his body threatened to erupt outward, yet the runes of Arcane magic flashed blue, and enforced the metaphysical concept of Order, actively reinforcing the seal containing the volatile energy within.
Rommath breathed deeply to release the pain, as his body creaked and cracked all over like it had been born anew.
The backlash from the failed ritual spell the other day had badly injured him. At the time he, along with 100 of his fellow cohort had vomited pure mana, and bled Arcane from their eye sockets.
As a result, the Magisters Spire remained motionless as its members were in recovery.
Aches and pains assaulted Rommath every second of the day, yet he showed nary a grimace.
This ritual pressed that pain he was feeling, and magnified it a hundred fold. Yet it was all worth it.
Rommath''s duty to His Majesty stood ironclad. At first, Rommath came to tutor the Prince because he was the son of his sister. It was merely a favor that he didn''t pay much attention to.
However, Kael¡¯Thas soon proved himself to be a capable mage. One whom Rommath knew would take the study of magic to heights unseen since Azshara became the Queen of all Elves ten millennia ago.
He had watched his nephew grow with excitement, and felt like a prideful parent as Kael¡¯Thas excelled.
Rommath quickly found himself running out of things to teach the genius Prince, so he had devoted himself to alternate paths of magic.
Realizing the dangerous, mind altering qualities of the Light, Void, and Fel, Rommath had turned to the quality of the Arcane that made it so stable as a source of magic. The concept of Order.
Arcane corresponded with Order, and required years of study to reach the pinnacle. It differed greatly from the other schools of magic, yet in Rommath''s opinion, held the most potential.
Fel corresponded with Chaos. The concept of change is limited only by one''s imagination. Fueled by the taking of life force, or souls, it was as powerful as it was deadly. It was a force that appealed to lesser beings. The beginner spells required little to no understanding, yet all it took was one hit, and a practitioner would slowly become something different.
Elemental and Druidic magic corresponded with Nature and Life. Rommath had experimented with these powers in the past, and found them lacking. Elemental magic was only so strong as the elemental spirits that granted their power. Theoretically, a shaman could become supreme should they be bestowed the power of numerous elementals, but Rommath found such a scenario unlikely.
Druidic magic on the other hand had the potential to rival Arcane, yet he fully admitted he was biased against it. The Night Elves had soured all of Highborn society from that brand of magic when the Night Elves exiled them after the Sundering.
That left Void and Light as the two remaining types of magic. Two sides of the same coin, they were both powered by belief, yet Rommath believed there was something more to it.
Through his experimentation, he discovered an extremely dangerous, and volatile energy was created when Void and Light interacted.
Sometimes referred to as Shadow and Holy magic, Rommath referred to the melding of such magics as the Holy Void.
Containing this combination was tedious, and often deadly. Many research subjects had suddenly exploded once he had infused them with this newfound power source.
Ultimately, Rommath turned to inscription as his answer.
Once determined to be a barbaric practice relegated to Dwarves, Trolls, and ancient Humans, Rommath took a radical approach (by Elf standards), and had begun research into bodily inscriptions.
After decades of failed experiments, Rommath finally had a breakthrough the night before once he analyzed the construct of some Troll totems.
Unwilling to fade into obscurity, Rommath took a gamble just now, and he had won!
Binding four of the principle powers of magic, Rommath felt an untold power coursing through his veins.
The flub up at the beach would never happen again as far as Rommath was concerned.
That dark mark of failure had seriously jeopardize Kael¡¯Thas''s safety, and ate away at Rommath ever since.
Whilst Rommath was writing down some fresh notes on his experience, and planning a seminar for his nephew, a ward was triggered.
Oddly enough, this particular frequency was keyed to one of his other nephews¡but he had been dead for quite some time.
Suspecting foul play, Rommath cast a spell, and an invisible ripple spread throughout the room.
A moment later, a figure wearing a similar high collar getup to Rommath was decloaked from invisibility.
Rommath hesitated for a moment as he recognized the figure. It was one of his deceased nephews, Prince Taldaram.
Possessing ash gray skin, long unruly white hair, and glowing red eyes, Rommath hardly recognized him.
After the hesitant astonishment passed, Rommath began muttering a chant to smite this abomination.
¡°Hold, Uncle! Hold! It is me, Taladram! I bring glad tidings.¡± Taladram shouted, and held out his hands in an attempt to forestall Rommath''s spell casting.
¡°What game are you playing at, creature? Has the Lich King become bored, and decided to directly puppet his playthings?¡± Rommath questioned in equal parts curiosity, and anger at the disservice done to his nephew.
¡°The Lich King? Ha! He is but a slave encased in a block of ice! My master has freed me from his mental affliction, he has opened my eyes to a much wider world! Unbound from the Sunwell, I am truly immortal! You can be too, join us Uncle, and you no longer have to worry about the fate of death!¡± Taladram boasted, and let loose a flood of mana into the nearby surroundings that dwarfed what he was capable of in life.
Rommath skeptically raised an eyebrow at his nephew. This very same man had once attempted to conspire with Rommath, and overthrow his father, King Anasterian. Of course he had rejected his nephew at the time, and he was highly suspicious of this surprise visit.
Whatever Taladram had to say, Rommath would treat it with a large grain of salt.
However, that didn''t mean Rommath couldn''t play along, and see what information he could tease out of this erstwhile nephew.
¡°This new master of yours, if he is not the Lich King, then who is it?¡± Rommath queried, at the same time, he discreetly began performing hand signs behind his back to set up a nonverbal spell.
¡°Lord Tichondrius, leader of all Dreadlords, saw potential in our race. He freed us from the mental pollution clouding all Undead, and renamed us as the Darkfallen.¡± Taladram spoke with confidence and pride.
¡°You keep saying ¡®we¡¯ and ¡®us,¡¯ are there more Darkfallen?¡± Rommath said with curiosity.
¡°Ah, but of course! My brothers, sister, and of course, mother have all become leaders of the Scourge within Deatholme, thanks to Lord Tichondrius! Already, a hundred Elves, torn and lost without the warmth of the Sunwell, have pledged themselves to our cause. And so could you!¡± Taladram said cheerfully.
Rommath barely withheld a wince once he learned that his sister had been raised into undeath. That was one conniving woman he had hoped to never see again.
However, it was time to close this discussion.
Having gathered all of the pertinent information that was needed, Rommath had one final question before he sent this nephew of his back to the gates of Hell.
¡°How is it you are so affable despite being one of the Undead? It was my understanding that all senses and desire to emote were lost upon death.¡± Rommath asked, genuinely curious.
¡°That¡¯s easy, Uncle mine! It¡¯s thanks to this!¡± Taladram exclaimed, pulling out a vial of sticky red fluid that Rommath determined to be blood.
Taking a gulp from the vial, Taladram shuddered in ecstacy. At the same time, Rommath noticed the concentration of death mana permeating the air increased almost two-fold.
Having discovered everything he wished to learn, Rommath was about to unleash the spell he was holding, when all of the sudden, a bright beam of Light empowered energy cleaved a portion of the tower in half.
Rommath was forced to redirect his spell to block the brunt of the attack, and save his skin in the process.
¡°Think about it, Uncle!¡± Taladram called out as his body turned into a smoke form, dodging all of the falling debris, and began to float away.
Rommath felt himself twitching in anger at whoever had damaged the tower, however, he had no chance to speak out, as the girl he recognized as Lady Vandercross disappeared in a streak after his nephew.
Shaking his head, Rommath decided he would have to petition the Prince. Damaging royal property was a serious offense after all.
Clucking his tongue, Rommath remembered his notes could be damaged, and all calm fled him as he began to desperately search through the rubble caused by that brat!
¡°Well, well, well, you have been quite the naughty Elf, Rommath. Secret meetings with the Undead in the dead of night. I wonder what conclusions might His Majesty come to?¡± Halduron came sauntering in, and shook his head in exaggerated amusement.
¡°Amusing as always, Halduron.¡± Rommath rolled his eyes, and resumed his search for his notes.
They both knew Rommath had nothing to fear from Kael¡¯Thas.
¡°And if a birdy whispered in Highlord Vandercross''s ear?¡±
¡°I saw to it that your name was the only recommendation for Ranger General. What more do you want, Brightwing.¡± Rommath tiredly bit out.
¡°You know Rommath, if I didn''t watch you murder your sister at His Majesty''s command, I might think you had gone traitor!¡± Halduron clapped.
Rommath paused in his search for a moment as memories of that execution drew bile up to his throat. Clamping down on the emotions that threatened to boil over, Rommath narrowed his eyes.
¡°What. Do. You. Want.¡± Rommath spoke in perfect monotone.
¡°Honestly, at this point, I''m just happy to sit back and enjoy the show!¡± Halduron said as he juggled an orb he found rolling across the floor.
¡°Somehow I doubt that.¡± Rommath said sardonically.
¡°His wife is on to something, you know. Scary woman, much worse than her mother. I''d watch my back if I were you.¡± Halduron said, ignoring Rommath''s question entirely in favor of stirring the pot further.
The Farstrider Commander was grinning as he leafed through several books that had fallen over, whilst Rommath had his back turned.
¡°I''ll keep that in mind. Now if you would stop perusing my collection, I have business to attend to. Of course, if you would like your brain to become invaded by 1st era Murloc translations, be my guest.¡± Rommath tersely waved Halduron off.
Halduron applied a Muffle to the book, and tossed it over his shoulder. Consequently, it fell over the edge of the broken tower and to the waiting ground below.
¡°I don''t know what Vandercross did that you would send a proxy to slander him like that the other night, but then again, who hasn''t been slighted by that family? Consider my debts repaid.¡± Halduron grinned roguishly, and left the crumbling mages tower.
Rommath paused in his search for a moment.
Yes, that wife of his was a troubling character.
Rommath was a patient man, however. There was no need to reveal himself this early in the game.
¡®Perhaps this movement described by my traitorous nephew could prove of use.¡¯ Rommath thought to himself, then wrote down his immediate thoughts and plans in code on a nearby scrap of paper.
He may no longer be immortal due to the destruction of the Sunwell, but time remained on his side.
One day, Rommath would proudly crown Kael¡¯Thas.
As King, his student would bring peace, freedom, justice, and security to Quel''Thalas like never before.
Yes, Rommath very much looked forward to seeing Kael¡¯Thas''s ascension. Even if he had to spill a little ink across the pages of history to do so.
Chapter 49
(Just Before Syra Attacked)
¡°The scent has led us to the Royal Palace, it would seem. Makes one wonder if the Prince had a hand in all of this.¡± Halduron gestured towards the stalwart pair of Spellbreakers guarding the front gates.
¡°Kael¡¯Thas is a threat, but not for the reason you''re thinking.¡± Syra casually remarked as she scanned the building in search of some sort of clue.
She hated to admit that someone else was better at tracking than her, but she supposed this glib tongued dandy had his uses.
¡°Indeed? The Prince is ineffectual, hardly a leader, I say. Perhaps it was Pathaleon, that slime. Your mother gave him a good thrashing at the council of the wise. Perhaps he is the one seeking revenge?¡± Halduron posited.
She noticed the Ranger Commander playing with a piece of rubble whilst he squatted next to her in the shadow of a building. Perhaps this was a nervous tick she could exploit later.
¡°Pathaleon is transparent in his schemes.¡± Syra said, turning to stare pointedly at Halduron.
¡°My Lady, why, I never claimed to be anything that I wasn''t! You are looking at Silvermoon''s premier tracker, and head of special forces! I''m quite the valuable man, you know, and my time could be spent clearing out Undead. Yet here I am, squatting in the dark with a married woman. Oh what will the bards think!?¡± Halduron dramatically covered his eyes with the back of his hand.
Syra scowled and looked away from him. The bards were quite clear on what kind of man Halduron was. Brightwing had the reputation of a renowned gigolo. One who seduced both males and females.
Whilst she looked away, she could practically feel a smirk directed her way whilst he peeked through the gap in his fingers.
Her hand twitched, itching for violence.
¡°Besides, with that murderous attitude, you must be a beast in the sheets! If there''s an opportunity, you two should consider letting me join in sometime. I''m quite well known for my skills.¡± Halduron whispered raunchily.
Without any hesitation, Syra punched Halduron in the gut, only to see him wink at her.
¡°Don''t hate the player luv, hate the game!¡± Halduron chuckled and winced as Syra stomped on his foot, then elbowed his collarbone.
Syra very seriously considered giving Halduron a massive beating at that moment, that or a violent demise. Not only due to his open invitation, but mainly because he must think her a fool. As if she didn''t know how two-faced the Elves were.
But she needed him, and for all intents and purposes, he was in her husband''s debt. Despite how suspicious this character was, she didn''t want to go breaking her Varrus''s toys. That was simply improper etiquette.
Ultimately, she decided to delay this debaucherous debonair¡¯s punishment for later.
¡°Hmm, so now that you know that the mana signature led us here, I wish you good luck. Gaining entry to the Royal Palace-even for the Commander of the Farstriders-is an overly formal affair. By the time you are cleared entry, I am afraid that the scent I have been tracking will be lost. It was faint as it is, why, it might disappear in a matter of minutes.¡± Halduron held his hands out, as if nothing could be done, and said in a whisper.
¡°Wipe that self satisfied smirk off your face.¡± Syra said without turning her head around.
By the Light, how she hated talking. Much more, when it came to conversing with braggarts and tricksters. If only she could be resting at home, tightly within Varrus¡¯s embrace. Now that was a thought.
¡°Even so m¡¯lady, you must come to a decision, and fast.¡± Halduron urged.
Syra rolled her eyes, then boldly strode out into the light, approaching the two guards.
Halduron whistled at Syra as she drew her giant buster sword, and rested it on her shoulder like it weighed nothing.
¡°State your business!¡±
¡°Halt!¡±
¡°Move.¡± Syra commanded.
The guards shared a look with one another, then raised their weapons.
¡°We recognize you, Lady Vandercross, but the hour is late. We do not want any trouble.¡± One guard said, and gestured towards her weapon.
¡°Please wait for a moment. I can call Pathaleon the Calculator, or Knight-Lord Dranarus if you wish entry.¡± The other guard held up a hand and said partly as a request, and partly as a plea.
¡°Halduron, explain.¡± Syra said over her shoulder.
Reluctantly slinking out of the shadows, Halduron looked glum as the two guards similarly recognized him.
¡°I see the value of anonymity is lost upon you.¡± Halduron pitilessly chuckled as he stepped into the light.
¡°You!¡± One of the guards angrily shouted as he pointed his blade at Halduron¡¯s neck.
¡°See, this is why I wished to remain in the shadows.¡± Halduron tsked as he gently moved the tip of the sword away with his index finger.
¡°You cheating, two time-¡±
Syra bopped the guard on the chin with a Light empowered fist so fast, he didn''t know what hit him.
She then placed her buster sword on the other guard''s shoulder, next to her neck.
¡°Explain.¡± Syra commanded.
¡°...that was a boring conversation anyway. Ahem, official Convocation duties. I''m investigating a trace on behalf of Highlord Vandercross, and demand entry.¡± Halduron tiredly listed off as if he had done so a thousand times.
¡°D-do you have a warrant?¡± The guard stuttered.
¡°And you call yourself a Royal Guard? Where''s your bravery, your deridoo!?¡± Halduron said, pointing his finger into the guard''s armored side, causing her to shiver each time he did so. ¡°Ah, bullocks, I seem to have chipped a nail.¡± Halduron muttered angrily.
Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.
The guard side eyed the giant buster sword, and remained silent, as if Halduron was a dumbass.
¡°Right, the sword. Well, anyway, there''s your warrant right there. So unlock the gate for us, would you?¡± Halduron leaned over, and winked slipped a piece of paper in her waistband. ¡°Call me.¡± He huskily whispered.
¡°Well¡it breaks protocol. But it''s not like anything has been normal around here lately¡oh very well, go on in!¡± The female guard fretted. She then muttered a spell, and some wards protecting the outer wall dropped around the gate.
¡°Just make sure to be quick about it.¡± The guard said nervously.
¡°Lead the way.¡± Syra brusquely shoved Halduron in the back, and into the palace grounds.
¡°Oi!¡± Halduron complained.
The Farstrider Commander took a step forward, then dusted himself off.
¡°As if I would give her the contact information to my scrying orb. Hah!¡± Halduron said, shaking his head.
¡°Track now, or do so from your collar.¡± Syra threatened as she materialized the chain of mixed Light/Void energy.
¡°Oh do behave.¡± Halduron said with a wink.
Syra swooshed her sword forward, cutting off a section of his long, blonde hair. Her intention was to make his face bleed, yet he had dodged her.
Curious.
¡°Cute. Real cute, Lady Vandercross. I may be willing to put up with a lot, but the face is off limits. Got that?!¡± Halduron said with heat in his voice.
Syra smiled back brilliantly, maintaining her silence.
¡°Bloody creepy is what it is.¡± Halduron muttered to himself.
¡°You want the perpetrator, fine, follow me.¡± Halduron rolled his eyes, then began to walk down empty corridor after empty corridor.
Twice he went to the side, and entered a magical camouflage so as not to be caught by a patrol.
Eventually, he led Syra to the Royal Magisters Spire, where he signaled them to halt.
¡°What is the issue?¡± Syra questioned.
¡°There are many auras concentrated In this location. I cannot lead you to any one room, as the density of mana is too extreme. This is as far as I can take you. Good luck, Lady Vandercross!¡± Halduron said, then turned around to leave, only to have his collar gripped.
¡°My, what smooth hands you have! I must know what lotion you use!¡±
¡°Track.¡± Syra commanded.
¡°I already told you, I cannot-¡±
¡°Track.¡± Syra said, cuffing Halduron around the wrist with Light energy.
¡°Oh dear, how exciting.¡± Halduron said in faux cheer as he was pushed forward once more.
As Halduron seemed to meander around the tower, Syra looked into every room they passed by, and saw mages moaning in pain.
¡°Poor bastards are sick from a ritual spell gone wrong.¡± Halduron supplied.
¡°Less talking, more finding.¡± Syra cut him off, and tightened the chain of Light on his arm.
¡°I feel something in this direction. But I can''t be certain, there''s something cutting off all the circulation to my arm, my mana sense is all thrown out of order.¡± Halduron complained, seemingly talking to himself as he pressed forward.
Syra rolled her eyes at Brightwing''s theatrics, internally promising a beat down as soon as Varrus gave the go ahead.
¡°Ah, that''s much better. Now where were we? Oh yes. It seems a powerful Undead is on the other side of this door. An associate of the late Drathir Dar''Khan no doubt. Who else would be perusing the Grand Magister''s room at this hour?¡± Halduron questioned as if he was a teacher asking a grade schooler a question.
Syra released her hold on Halduron, and went to open the door, only to be rebuffed by a magical ward.
Huffing, she gripped her buster sword, and prepared to slash it open.
¡°That won''t work, you know. Successive Grand Magisters over the generations have all laid their defenses upon this room. Even the Prince would struggle to break in.¡± Halduron chided, and found the split in his nails to be more interesting than what Syra was getting herself into.
Syra imbued her weapon with Light energy, and cleaved downward. The ward shuddered, yet remained in place.
¡°Told you~. Look, if you want to gain entry, we could simply wait-¡±
Syra tuned out Halduron¡¯s chatter, and focused on the barrier in front of her. She had considered slashing in the wall next to the door, but quickly came to the conclusion that not only did the barrier protect the door, but it protected the entire structure as well.
As an inscription hobbyist, she noticed runework carved upon the floor, and on the inside of the portal leading to the room.
Recognizing several of them, Syra muttered a quick spell, and coated her sword with temporary inscriptions that would act to counter the ones on the floor.
Pumping energy into her sword once more, Syra laughed beautifully as her blade passed through the door-and the entire tower-like a knife cutting into butter.
As the tower fell, her eyes caught on to a shade attempting to flee the scene.
¡®This is it!¡¯ Syra thought excitedly to herself, and gave chase.
No one messed up her Varrus exclusive alone time.
No one.
Syra smiled as she looked forward to adding another flower to her collection.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Kael blearily opened his eyes open as a layer of dust fell into his nose, causing him to sneeze.
Closing his eyes, and rubbing his nose, Kael attempted to fall back asleep, only for a subtle rumble to shake his room.
Trying to roll over, and get ahold of his water glass, Kael felt something warm in his bed, where there shouldn''t be anything.
That subtle, distant rumble, turned into an avalanche of noise, and caused Kael''s searching hand to fumble into something massive, soft, and oddly familiar.
Ah! It was the pillow he had grown up with. Of course, nothing was as soft as this childhood memory!
Kael wrapped an arm around the pillow, and rubbed his face into it like a dog rubbing itself on the carpet after a bath.
Oh how he had missed the smell of home! It was a little softer, and squishier than he remembered, but it still held up after all these years.
It was whilst Kael was reminiscing, that he heard a large boom in the distance.
¡°Okay, just what is going on. Dranarus! Dranarus, get in here!¡± Kael shouted across the room at the door outside.
Bursting into the Prince''s room, dim light spilled in from the hallway, and the Knight-Lord''s form cast a long shadow within the room. Yet the scene within was laid bare for him in graphic detail.
¡°Dranarus, I demand to know what is going on!¡± Kael said, rubbing his eyes against the soft pillow he had gotten ahold of, then wiped some of his saliva off on it.
¡°Well that seems rather self explanatory, my Prince.¡± Dranarus said with a stunned expression.
¡°Now if you¡¯ll excuse me-¡±
¡°No it is not. You are not dismissed. Explain the situation to me!¡± Kael said hotly.
¡°Must I?¡± Dranarus said in a weak voice.
¡°I am your Prince, I command you!¡±
Dranarus looked at Kael morosely, and opened his mouth with a dejected look, when a voice interrupted him, much to his seeming relief.
¡°Hm mm? Why Goldilocks, don¡¯t stop there, we¡¯re just getting started.¡± Jan''alai said huskily from Kael¡¯s side.
Dranarus had taken that moment to flee from the scene, and as he stepped out of the way, the light from the hallway freely spilled into the room.
Blinking his eyes, Kael caught sight of a semi-nude Jan''alai currently being fondled by his hands.
¡°Meep!¡± Kael muttered in shock.
Jan''alai¡¯s feral grin was the last thing he saw as the door clicked shut, and the dark of night once more shrouded his chambers.
Chapter 50
Just outside the Royal Palace, within a giant warehouse filled with massive shelves and pallets full of goods, Pathaleon the Calculator, chief seneschal, and majordomo for the Sunstrider family was hard at work.
Between counting foodstuffs, ammunition, potions, and a hundred other items necessary for war, he was also triple checking the ledgers of every business in all of Quel''Thalas in search of a spy.
Whilst he had recovered the ledger documenting his own misdeeds, he had found another notebook left besides it.
Faedra, that witch, had no doubt left it there for him to find.
Unable to contain his curiosity, Pathaleon had become intrigued by the information within.
Someone had been discreetly purchasing tomes regarding necromancy within the city for the last thousand years, and it wasn''t Drathir Dar''Khan.
Pathaleon had obsessively set himself on finding this hidden vagrant for the last 5 days, yet achieved little in the way of results.
Whilst Pathaleon was in the midst of intense mental calculations, distant explosions rocked the area just outside the warehouse.
Pathaleon looked left and right in worry as the sound of impending doom came closer and closer.
Looking left and right for a spot to rest, Pathaleon caught sight of a giant chest sitting in the middle of the room.
It was the box that contained every anti-Undead spellbook Pathaleon could get his hands on. As such, the chest was the most defensive item in the room!
Pathaleon fretted over jumping in, but as the sound of danger drew near, his self preservation instincts kicked in, and he jumped inside, locking the chest with a click.
No sooner did Pathaleon enter than he heard an excited voice loudly exclaim that he had ¡®found it.¡¯
Whatever ¡®it¡¯ was, Pathaleon did not have to wait for long, as he felt the chest he hid within begin to rise.
¡®Not like this.¡¯ Pathaleon closed his eyes as he realized he couldn''t open the chest from the inside.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Syra was jumping from rooftop to rooftop as she chased down the Shade she believed to be the mastermind behind the attacks on Varrus''s character.
As a Shade, the being she was constantly attacking possessed an incorporeal form made of black smoke. Tall as an average man, it had long, gangly arms ending in finger shaped claws, piercing blue magical eyes, and where there would be legs, there was a constant pool of shadow.
Dangling from its hands, a comically large chest swayed beneath it as it made its escape. Only Syra wasn''t laughing.
This phantom of the night flew in the sky, and mockingly laughed down at Syra as it dodged any Light based attack she launched at it.
¡°My oh my, Syra Greathollow! My older brother was quite smitten with you!¡± The Shade boomed in a high pitched, masculine voice.
Syra recognized the voice as belonging to Prince Taladram, one of the Royal children that her mother had put down upon the order of King Anasterian.
Just remembering that creep of an older brother sent Syra into a murderous rage. If before, she was annoyed, now she was determined.
Getting in the way of her Varrus time? That was grounds for murder.
Adding onto that memories of her depressing past? That was grounds for something much, much worse than death.
The ruins of a bell tower were diced into dozens of chunks of rubble as Syra picked up her speed.
She jumped off a falling block of plaster, and sliced at Taladram, only to fall short by an inch.
¡°You always were so quiet! I never knew what my brother saw in you. Far as I could see, you were just a creepy, stalker fangirl of that punk Vandercross.¡± Taladram mockingly rambled on.
Somersaulting to the floor, Syra broke her impact by empowering herself with the Light, cracking several roof tiles in the process.
Not willing to let him escape, Syra cast the spell, Hammer of Justice, which summoned a hammer made of pure Light over the Shade''s head, and knocked it downward with fury and vengeance.
Landing within an open, abandoned square between two destroyed buildings, Taladram took on mortal form as the light ate away at his gaseous form like some sort of ravenous beast.
Swiping a clawed hand across his body, Taladram drew a drop of his own blood, and somehow concentrated the Light energy attacking his body into the drop. He then flicked his hand, and was free of any damage.
He then ran a hand through his silver hair, and looked at Syra as if to say ¡®is that it?¡¯
Even in death, the deceased Prince was a handsome man. Based upon appearance alone, he would woo the heart of many a maiden.
He pissed Syra off.
How dare he call her a fangirl!
She was more than that!
She was Varrus¡¯ one and only soulmate!
Forever and ever, and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever (x100)
¡till death do they part!
Dense energies of Light and Void fed off of one another, and an aura of Holy Void began to erupt around her in a constant wave of energy.
¡°See? That¡¯s why you¡¯re so creepy. I am dead, and yet, even I get the shivers when I see that smile.¡± Taladram shuddered.
¡°Tell me why you sought to undermine my husband.¡± Syra stalked forward, pacing slowly from side to side like a matriarchal lioness closing in on her prey.
¡°Husband? If you''re talking about my big brother, I don''t know why I should tell y-¡± Taladram got out, when Syra stabbed her buster sword into the ground, and released a gush of pure power.
The square erupted as purple and gold mixed and pulled apart from one another.
Where once there was rock, and damaged-yet still recognizable buildings-there was now nothing.
Half a block''s worth of buildings had all but been atomized.
As for Taladram, he had thrown up a shield made of magically empowered blood, blocking the strike.
Yet the bright red blood he had released soon turned sickly black, then began to sizzle, and pop, sounding like popcorn in the microwave.
Whenever a drop of this once foul, death magic induced blood fell upon Taladram''s skin, it burned him like acid.
Unfortunately for Taladram, he was a Darkfallen. A new breed of Undead due to his Elf heritage, and Dreadlord magics.
Whilst that allowed him the feeling of ecstacy whenever he drank blood, that also opened him up to pain.
¡°Auugh! Like daughter, like mother! I know you Greathollow¡¯s killed my sister! That you¡¯re ultimately responsible for all our deaths! Die witch!¡± Taladram screeched in rage.
He opened up not one, not two, but five mageweave bags. Pouring out of five separate pocket spaces, gallon upon gallon of blood began to pool out at his feet.
¡°Tel¡¯mathura Da¡¯oriel!
Feng¡¯Hair Sanguinarous!¡± Taladram chanted.
The blood at his feet took shape in the form of a 30ft tall serpent.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
Syra speed blitzed the serpent, cleaving it in two, and moved forward with the intention of bisecting Taladram in the same motion.
However, as she burst the creation of blood apart, Taladram twitched his fingers, and the pool of crimson collapsed in on itself, sticking to the bubble of Light Syra had around herself.
The blood had properties of death and decay, greatly slowing down her speed at a conceptual level.
Syra felt her shield buckle, and wither as Death magicks seeped into her shield like a plague.
At the same time, Taladram had slid backward, using the slick blood like a rink of ice to gain some distance.
His fingers twisted, and more unrecognizable syllables left his mouth.
¡°Tel¡¯mathura Mos¡¯mortif.
Fvoth Sanguinairous Korfortous!¡±
The blood around him swiftly turned into a mist, blocking Syra¡¯s sight of him, and obfuscating her ability to sense mana in the nearby surroundings.
Despite all this, Syra never lost confidence in herself, or the faith in her mission.
So long as she believed in him, in their family, she was invincible!
The bubble of Light that threatened to decay, and fall apart in time exploded outward in a big bang.
Instead of waiting for her shield to disappear with the withering of time, Syra decided to end it in a brilliant flash.
The bubble burst in a 360 radius, and melted away any putrid blood within 5 ft.
Waves of blood surged forth from all sides like a tsunami crashing down upon the shoreline.
Yet Syra kept her composure at the seemingly endless amount of poisoned ichor.
She stabbed her sword into the ground, then clasped her hands into prayer. Her bell-like voice rang out in the hauntingly dark square like a beacon of purity.
¡°Varrus nor''soothe bel''atathal.
Varrus nor''soothe bel''lothol
Varrus is my sanctuary.¡± Syra chanted, completing the ritual prayer, Sanctuary, to meet Taladram''s spell.
A radiant beacon of light shined straight up into the sky, then spread outward, pressing the wave of crimson backwards.
Syra''s angelic voice was as if the summons towards the herald of salvation.
Taladram tried countering Syra''s spell, and was frantically chanting one of his own from within the blood mist, but no matter how he shaped the blood, it was no match for this ever expanding ripple of Light.
The mist all but melted away, leaving Taldaram with few options to hide. As he was about to transform into a Shade once more, and carry the chest he had stolen away, he fell to the ground as his legs were cut off from under him.
There, emerging from the bloody fog, was Syra.
Her smile etched into Taladram''s retina, he desperately moved his fingers to direct the most into her lungs in an effort to corrupt and choke her from the inside out.
Yet with but a wave of her sword, both his remaining limbs were swiped off with the casualty of a man wiping his own arse at the toilet.
For the first time since his undeath, Taladram felt fear.
Syra planted her sword an inch away from the Undead''s face, and smiled down at him as the magical properties of her sword slowly gave him 3rd degree burns all across his nose and forehead.
Taladram lay on the ground, moaning in pain as Holy Void energies ate away at his flesh and soul, slowly consuming his everything.
Without his arms or legs, the Darkfallen Prince was unable to resist as Syra practiced her magic on him.
From Taladram''s perspective, Syra was like a child learning to shine an eyeglass onto an unsuspecting ant. As a Prince, Taladram had lived his life in luxury. He would laugh at the irony, except he couldn''t find anything ironic about it! All he could do was wordlessly howl as the demon in Elf flesh worked her magic on him.
As for Syra, she had finally had her prey exactly where she wanted him. Savoring the moment of triumph, Syra smiled brilliantly down at him. Unable to heal him with her powers, Syra gathered some of the nearby blood, and would drip it upon Taladram. The filthy blood healed him, only for Syra to drop beads of Holy Void energy onto his skin, shriveling it further.
Each time she did, she would ask him the same question over and over and over again until he broke.
¡°My husband. Varrus Vandercross. Why did you set him up?¡± Syra bit out as she stalked over the crippled form of a once handsome Prince.
Finally unable to take it anymore, Taldram began to answer.
¡°Why would I set that waste up to fall? As if he needed any pushing to do that! If anything, our target was my Un-kuh!¡± Taladram got out before he was stabbed in the back by a similarly dressed man.
¡°Now, now. No need to tell the pretty lady all our secrets, is there?¡± A cultured voice spoke as he stepped through a continuously running two-way portal.
¡°It took you long enough, big brother, I had been waiting here for nearly half an hour!¡± Taladram complained.
¡°Patience is a virtue. Besides, when keeping such divine company, why, I count you lucky.¡± The cultured Darkfallen gently patted Taladram upon the top of the head like he was admonishing his most favorite pet.
¡°Divine? Big brother, open your eyes! This murderess wants us dead. Permanently! Just look at your own flesh and blood, and see what she plans to do to you!¡±
¡°Now that. Is a gross overstatement. Syra my love, why don''t you lower your sword, and come along? Now that the Sunwell is destroyed, there is only one path to immortality. Marry me, and together, we can rule Quel''Thalas as King and Queen.¡± The sharply dressed man took off a pristine white glove, and offered his hand.
Syra ignored her former suitor, and silently began to absorb the mana from a Mana Stone.
She had seen enough of her beloved''s plays to know how much an Elf loved to monologue. Furthermore, this specific noble had made advances upon her more than once. It could be said she was familiar with his brand of self importance.
Whilst she knew she could keep fighting if she had to, there was no reason to do so at a disadvantage. She had spent a lot of her mana casting Sanctuary. She would let this airbag posture. For now.
¡°Heuah hah hah hah!¡± Taladram dryly chuckled.
¡°Something amuses you, dear brother?¡± The dapper Elf frowned.
¡°She is married. To Vandercross!¡± Taladram cheerfully mocked.
¡°This jest has gone too far. Do not forget your place, you are speaking to your future King! You are speaking to Crown Prince Tenris Sunstrider!¡± The black-haired Elf punctuated his statement by absorbing all of Taladram''s blood through the sword skewered in his midsection.
Taladram''s face contorted as his skin dried out like a mummy. Within seconds, his body fell apart, and was naught but dust in the wind.
¡°Come now my Queen, this portal is due to close in a couple of seconds. The magisters are sure to have noticed it by now, we do not have much time.¡± Tenris said, taking hold of the chest with one hand, and beckoning towards her with another.
Syra didn''t even take a second to think.
Why use words when violence was the only answer?
Her sword gleamed off the reflection of the pale light of the portal as it sang forth.
Missing his midsection by just a hair, Syra frowned in dissatisfaction as all she took was his hand.
¡°This is your response? Pity. Should I discover that my brother spoke truth, nothing can save Vandercross from my ministrations! One day, you will be mine, Syra!¡± Tenris yelled as he faded away into the rapidly closing portal.
Syra had a moment to consider chasing after him, but wasn''t so foolish to believe that they would be the only two on the other side.
She was constant in her belief, but that didn''t mean she was an idiot.
As she approached the chest, she saw an amulet fall off Taladram''s remains. Holding it up for a closer look, she discovered an odd, serpentine dragon symbol on it. It didn''t correspond with any dragon she was familiar with, but she decided to hold on to it to research later.
Curious as to what was so important about this box, Syra pulled out some rogues tools, and tinkered around until she heard a click.
Opening the chest, she was greeted by a shaking Elf pointing a dagger at her.
¡°Ah, Lady Greathollow how nice to see you-¡± Pathaleon shakily said, before Syra shoved the amulet in his face.
She wasn''t expecting to find the Prince''s pet inside the chest. Kidnapping him was intelligent, considering his role in managing the Royal treasury.
Milliseconds away from kicking the court senseschel for failing to recognize her as Lady Vandercross, again, Syra took a deep breath and calmed herself. She had questions for the Calculator.
Syra had read a profile on all of the former King''s aides, so she knew Pathaleon was well read, and had access to information not even her mother was privy to.
¡°What do you know of this symbol?¡± Syra brusquely questioned.
Pathaleon looked out of sorts from the sudden intrusion, yet the look on Syra''s face brooked no delay, and he nervously began to shake as he examined the artifact.
¡°This is somewhat familiar. The symbolism does not relate to any of the Dragon Aspects. However, I have seen recordings of it in ancient Troll texts. I believe it was an ancient god of pestilence.¡± Pathaleon said, rubbing his chin.
Syra frowned at the basic reply, then snatched the amulet out of Pathaleon''s hands. This required further investigation. If Taladram''s words could be trusted, then there was a collaborator within Silvermoon.
This symbol could be the clue that led to their base of operations.
¡°Well, thank you my Lady. It was quite the frightening night!¡± Pathaleon said with a weak smile, and began to pull himself up.
¡°It''s Vandercross. Remember that.¡± Syra said before kicking Pathaleon in the chest, driving the air out of his lungs, and further into the giant box full of books.
Pathaleon opened his mouth to say something, but Syra never knew what he was going to say, as she kicked the lid closed a second later.
Looking around, Syra clenched her fist in anger as she had failed to root out her family''s enemies. Not only that, but her kill had been stolen of all things!
Taladram had made things personal, yet she didn''t get to end things on her terms.
For that, Tenris had earned himself a spot in her journal.
She only hoped she could get back before the council meeting was over.
There were, Syra concluded, other ways to release this pent up frustration. Syra grinned to herself as she imagined Varrus sweating profusely, and gasping in pleasure beneath her.
Just the thought of it made her squirm in excitement!
Syra grinned from ear to ear as she happily made for home.
Chapter 51
Varrus had received word that his wife was going out, to which he was immensely jealous.
Whilst he was forced to sit here at this council meeting, she was able to get some fresh air, and pursue her flower pressing hobby. Lucky girl.
¡°Well Vandercross, what hair-brained scheme have you cooked up next? What is this I see about the judissiary on our folders?¡± Tae''thelon slurred his speech as he continued to drink alcohol from a seemingly bottomless flask.
Varrus internally sweat at the unkempt appearance of their local chief educator, and Titan researcher. He opened his mouth to respond, but was beaten to it by Koren.
¡°It has to do with my brother, and the false accusations he levied against the Highlord.¡± Koren hung his head in shame as he explained.
¡°So, you¡¯re afffraid for your life, is that it Vandercross?¡± Tae''thelon taunted between sips.
¡°Unity amongst our people is necessary if we are to pull ourselves out of this mess. I cannot allow unrest and belligerent elements to attack from behind. The enemy would simply love to see discord in our ranks, and would pounce upon any opportunity to chew our necks off. What you see as cowardice, I see as prudence.¡± Varrus staunchly rebutled, refusing to give way towards Tae''thelon¡¯s needling.
¡°Oh give the boy a break. I¡¯m certain the child, what was his name?¡±
¡°Dakar.¡± Telonicus supplied.
¡°Yes, Dakar¡¯s father didn''t simply disappear. I knew the Vongstag patriarch, and had attended quite a few parties with him. He hated Vandercross¡¯ father. Are you sure there isn''t something you would like to tell this council? Hmm?¡± Tae''thelon questioned Varrus with a lazy, yet poignant smile.
¡°The Highlord is a kind soul, one who selflessly stood up against the Undead, and focused on healing. Why would you think otherwise?¡± Liadran spoke up in her soft, angelic voice, and admonished Tae''thelon.
¡°Politics, my dear, is a messy, often volatile affair. You are neither old, nor young, you cannot demonstrate such abject naivet¨¦ at your age!¡± Tae''thelon chided, shaking his head.
Liadran had a lost look on her face as she scrunched her brows in thoughtful confusion from Tae''thelon''s admonishment.
¡°You really never saw any of this in the church? The politicking of one worshiper gathering support from another for promotion? The disappearance of a practitioner who was ¡®lost in the woods, and killed by an Amani?¡¯ Or someone in a high post stepping down to ¡®spend some time with their family?¡¯ Really girl, do not act so blind, it is embarrassing.¡± Tae''thelon scoffed, and went to take another sip, only to scowl once he saw that his flask was empty.
¡°Words are lethal, girl. Even the dust covered researcher knows this much.¡± Thaladred warned in a tired, weary voice.
Liadran looked around the table like she couldn''t believe what she was hearing, yet everyone else remained stone faced as the hope and light of innocence dimmed in her eyes.
Varrus sighed, he truly felt bad for the lady. Compassionate, genuine people seemed so rare to come across, both on Earth, and here on Azeroth. To see one lose that spark, it was like watching a bunch of kids learning that death was real.
¡°It is a sad truth, lass. Live as long as us, and you¡¯ll see your fair share of backstabs, and more. But you¡¯re a member of the Convocation now. The boy has a keen eye, and I¡¯m sure he didn''t pick you for no reason. As a Councilor, you can promote those within the Church of the Holy Light that you deem as truly good people, and we will support you. Wield this power wisely, and your dream of a truly benevolent organization may come true.¡± The grizzled Ranger General, Lor''Themar placed a hand upon Liadran¡¯s shoulder, and squeezed her comfortingly.
Liadran smiled graciously at the elder Elf, and seemed to regain some of her lost spirit.
Not for the first time this night did Varrus choose to deliberately look away. An innocent, pretty lady in a world as foul as Azeroth was like spotting a unicorn on Earth. Honestly, the red headed paladin was endearing.
¡°Y-yeah! We are in charge of promotions at the Convocation. I''m sure whoever you choose will be first class!¡± Koren spoke up with a chipper tone, and in Varrus¡¯ view could not be closer in nature to an excited dog wagging his tail.
¡°Thank you, I will try my best.¡± Liadran smiled, seeming to send Koren into a stupor.
¡°Ahem, well said, Old Man! Lady Liadran, do not lose all hope in our society. There are still some out there who share in your good nature. The Prince, Kael¡¯Thas is a remarkable man who cares far more about this nation than anyone at this table could ever imagine. And while I¡¯ll shy away from the label you have placed upon me, there is nothing more I want than for the success of our people.¡± Varrus said, placing a hand over his heart, and lightly bowing.
¡°Fancy words, but it''s a Vandercross, what more can you expect? Anyhow, let us return to the topic at hand.¡± Tae''thelon beckoned towards the councilors.
¡°What, are you done lecturing the paladin so soon? How much did you charge my daughter for tuition again?¡± Telonicus boredly drawled.
Varrus chuckled at the exchange, because there was no way Telonicus didn''t know, and Tae''thelon was well aware of that fact! However, Tae''thelon was right, it was time to get down to business, and settle this issue.
¡°Gentleman, peace. Let the Headmaster say what he needs to say.¡± Varrus held out his hands, then glanced at Tae''thelon, giving him a stern look.
It was as if he had said ¡®you had best watch your next words carefully.¡¯
¡°For the sake of unity and the safety of my neckline, I¡¯ll remain silent about this matter. However, once stability returns, I hope these typical Vandercross antics cool down.¡± Tae''thelon stared Varrus in the eye, and then looked away as Varrus refused to budge or blink.
¡°Agreed. Unity is most important in these trying times. Unfortunately, my rangers are too busy securing the realm to conduct an investigation regarding any frivolous rumor. You agree, boy?¡± Lor''Themar said in jest, yet there was steel layered beneath his silken words.
¡°Sure thing, old man.¡± Varrus saluted.
Message received.
The members of the Convocation would sweep this matter under the rug, and would not be investigating Koren''s father''s death.
Honestly, Varrus never thought anyone would investigate it. What, with the insane event known as the Scourging of Silvermoon, who would investigate every death when an Undead Horde numbering in the millions sacked your homeland?
However, if Koren could murder his father, it made Varrus wonder what crazy antics the people got up to during the zombie apocalypse. Shaking his head, Varrus decided he''d let dead dogs lie. There was no need to go digging in other people''s closets so long as stability reigned supreme.
Lor''Themar and Tae''thelon were right. Besides, if he had any enemies in the future, he could do what any corrupt politician did, and throw the law at them.
In a sense, that is what he was doing with Dakar at the moment. The poor dude watched his dad get murdered in front of him, and when he attempted his revenge, got tossed into one of the worst prisons imaginable.
Varrus still felt bad for the dude, but after he heard that threat towards his wife, most of his sympathy had evaporated.
Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.
And if that didn''t work, then he could plant evidence to make it true. He never thought he would ever level up his Pickpocket skill, or find time to invest in Sneak, but strange times made for even stranger bedfellows. If he was to succeed in this tragic world, he couldn''t rely solely on Destruction, Restoration, and Enchanting to see things through.
As demonstrated by his interrogation, even the Illusion skill tree held some use outside of battle.
There was much Varrus had to learn about the inner workings of society, and many different types of battlefields. The Troll or Demon were easily identifiable external threats. However, the knife in the dark was one Varrus would have to constantly be on guard against.
Firming up his resolve, Varrus decided he would embrace the corruption. If it meant securing the safety of his wife, those who placed their faith in him, and advancing the stability of the nation, then there wasn''t anything he was unwilling to do.
¡°Telonicus, what charges can I bring towards Dakar Vongstag for his reckless behavior?¡± Varrus asked the genius engineer who seemed to know every factoid.
¡°Statute 5.5.1: Publicly disparaging a council member is one week''s detention within the dungeon. Statute 5.0.1: Threatening violence against a member of the public is 2 years of detention followed by 5 years of community service. Statute 5.0.0: Threatening violence against a member of the Convocation: 10 years of detention, followed by 20 years of community service.¡± Telonicus boredly listed.
¡°And confessing to plotting an assassination?¡± Varrus asked, showing off the edited recording of Dakar''s interrogation.
¡°Statute 5.1.2: plotting to assassinate a member of the Convocation, 200 years detention, followed by exile.¡±
¡®Holy shit Rho''dan! You really knew what you were doing back there!¡¯ Varrus thought to himself as he leaned back into his chair.
Without Rho''dan''s quick thinking, Dakar may be released from the dungeon whilst the events of World of Warcraft were at the peak of their danger!
The laws obviously favored the people in power over the common citizen, and whilst on any other day, Varrus would call bullshit, all he could do was thank his corrupt father for setting things up for him.
As the law stood, Varrus would not have to worry about Dakar ever again. It was cruel, and inhumane, but perhaps in 30 years or so, once things had hopefully cooled down, Varrus could see about making things right.
By then, Varrus would have maxed out everything in his Skyrim UI, and be untouchable by any casual Hero of Dakar¡¯s tier.
Besides, 50 years seemed like a lot from a Human perspective, but for a near immortal race, it really wasn''t much compared to some of the Elves who had surpassed a millenia in age. 50 years was more than half of an average Human''s lifespan, whereas to an Elf, you weren''t really considered a young adult until your 200''s. The difference between the perception of time was hard for Varrus to wrap his head around as a former Human, but at the end of the day, this was good news for him.
Koren all the while, was looking at Varrus with a pleading look.
¡°Then I propose Dakar serve out his sentence.¡± Varrus said, immediately holding up a hand to forestall Koren''s protest.
¡°And in 50 years, we reassess his case, and see if he is fit to rejoin society. Never let it be known that I am without compromise.¡± Varrus said with a glance at Tae''thelon.
The Headmaster rolled his eyes, yet raised a glass of wine in acknowledgement.
¡°Let us vote.¡± Varrus banged the gavel on the table.
Several muttered ayes indicated the weakness of Varrus¡¯ cause, however, all that mattered to him was that the motion passed.
¡°Next up, the Sunwell. I have told some of you before, but I have a plan to restore it to its full power.¡± Varrus said with pride.
The table was dead silent as most of the occupants, including Thaladred & Telonicus, looked at Varrus as if he had said the impossible.
¡°This goes against all known convention. How exactly are you going to achieve this?¡± Telonicus eagerly questioned. He stole Tae''thelon''s folder, just so he could have a free piece of scrap paper to write upon.
¡°Yes. Do not give us a false hope. The emptiness. The emptiness inside me cannot be teased so wantonly.¡± Thaladred leaned forward, and gripped the table roughly, bending part of it with his terrifying mana enhanced strength.
¡°Those of you who saw the Highlord fight should know about his vast, Arcane repertoire. I think I speak for everyone here when I say Lord Vandercross is full of surprises. His seemingly limitless mana, the ability to regenerate limbs, and heal fatal injuries.if anyone can restore the Sunwell, it is him!¡± Koren replied to Thaladred, full of vim and vinegar. The light of zealotry shone brightly in his eyes.
¡°Is it true, Varrus? Are our prayers answered? Without the Sunwell, we have lost our land of eternal spring & autumn. Will you deliver us from this foul cloud of malays?¡± Liadran clasped her hands as if she were in prayer, and softly asked in a hopeful tone.
¡°The boy is a silver tongue, no doubt, but even he doesn''t have the gumption to lie to us like that. Tell us your plan, boy.¡± Lor''Themar said encouragingly, and slapped Varrus on the shoulder with a wink.
¡°Old Man, members of the Convocation. It is a simple plan, but one that I have full confidence will work.¡± Varrus said, meeting the eyes of everyone present.
Thanks to the quest text: [Remember the Sunwell!: repair the Sunwell 0/999,999,999 mana] Varrus knew all he needed was a fuckton of mana.
And if there was anything Varrus was capable of, thanks to his Mana Stones, it was a fuck ton of mana.
999,999,999 mana was a lot. But due to his perks Home Mythal, and Welloc''s Dormant Arcana the yield of every Master tier Mana Stone was 400,000, and cost 0 mana to cast.
Home Mythal - Summons a permanent magical field at the location where you learn this perk. Alteration spells gain 2x duration and 2x power if cast within 5000 feet, and x20 duration if cast within 250 feet.
Welloc''s Dormant Arcana - Choose a spell type (Armor, Cloak, Conjure Daedra, Conjure Undead, Invisibility) and 3 magic effects (Fortify, Regenerate, Waterwalking, ...). The chosen magic effects will activate when you are affected by the chosen spell type.
The Master tier Mana Stone took 20 seconds to cast, and the base amount created was 100k. Between the 2x modifier of Home Mythal, the 2x modifiers, it was now 400k~.
Effectively, in an 8 hour work day, if Varrus cast the spell nonstop, it would turn up to 1,440 times. That was a staggering 576,000,000 mana! So in essence, Varrus could restore the Sunwell in a single day if he mindlessly grinded like a zombie.
However, so long as the Rune Stones were down, and Archimonde remained on Azeroth, Varrus was uncomfortable with restoring the Sunwell. If he fixed it tomorrow, the Legion would be on their doorstep, and that was simply put, unacceptable.
So he lied to his fellow councilors.
¡°I have been slowly amassing the Mana Stones, and have a foolproof method to restore the Sunwell. I won''t get into the specifics as of now, but rest assured that it is happening. But by my estimate, it should take anywhere between 4 months, and 2 years, depending on how the Mana Stones are spent.¡± Varrus slowly explained.
¡°What a tease. Well, this was a productive day. I do believe I shall see myself out.¡± Tae''thelon said sarcastically. He then floated out of his seat, and disappeared in a flash of teleportation.
¡°Thank you for hosting the Convocation, Varrus.¡± Liadran nodded, then pulled Thaladred and Koren aside to discuss the relief efforts for Tranquillien.
Telonicus had his pen still on his paper, and was giving off some depressing vibes.
Varrus noted this and was about to leave, when he noticed that he was, in fact, stuck to his chair as if it had been lathered with glue.
¡°Enjoying the view, First Seat.¡± Lor''Themar chuckled.
¡°Haha, very funny Old Man.¡± Varrus faux chuckled as he tried to remove himself to no avail.
¡°Come see me after you have cleansed the Dead Scar, I have much more to teach you.¡± Lor''Themar smirked, then vaulted over the railing, disappearing into the dark of the night.
¡°Now that I have you alone, Highlord, I must know, how exactly do you intend to restore the Sunwell?¡± Telonicus queried.
Varrus looked left and right, cursing the damned Old Man.
Ahh fuck it.
Varrus ignored the Royal Engineer, and activated the Alteration perk, Dimension Door, teleporting himself home.
A second later, Varrus found himself just 30ft from where he had previously been on the balcony. The engineer was a mage, so he likely recognized the nearby fluctuations, but what was the sod to do? Varrus had the blinds closed, and Rho''dan posted outside.
¡®Damn old bastard!¡¯ Varrus raged to himself as he recalled Lor''Themar''s smirk.
So he had paralyzed the older Elf, and left him face down on the sweat laden floor. That was payback for attacking him with the intent to draw blood!
Whilst Varrus assumed the epoxy would wear off in a few hours, much like his paralysis spell, that didn¡¯t mean Varrus enjoyed being glued to his seat. He thought about simply breaking the chair with his improved strength, but he didn¡¯t want bits of pulp and wood to stick to his robe. Cleaning that shit out would be more of a pain in the ass than sitting down for another hour or two.
Drumming his knuckles across a nearby table, Varrus began to conjure up some food as he began to think up some creative plots of revenge to get back at the Ranger General.
The old man thought he was teaching Varrus a lesson? Well they¡¯d see who could out petty who!
Chapter 52
When Syra returned home, it was well past midnight, and the Convocation meeting was over.
She was irked that she couldn''t return in time to await Varrus in the kitchen, and decided to be extra tough the next time she saw the Undead Crown Prince.
Tenris would discover someday soon that nobody crosses a Vandercross!
Whilst Syra had begun plotting against Tenris, and her heart filled with rage, that didn''t mean she couldn''t multitask.
Now that she was a stone''s throw away from home, she came to the conclusion that the House Guard could do with a little test.
The recent infiltration by the Undead Prince had raised some concerns, and she wanted to see what preparations Rho''dan had set up in the event of another assassination attempt.
It was with this in mind that Syra found herself clinging to the shadows of a building across the street from the Vandercross Estate.
Whilst she maintained this position, dark clouds hovered over the sky, blocking the starlight. The moon was a crescent, barely providing any light. It was so dark, in fact, that even an Elves'' ability to see in the night was not very effective beyond 10ft.
Crouched at the perfect vantage point to assess the mansion''s defense, Syra began to analyze points of entry, as well as guard rotations.
To begin with, the only approach to the estate was via a wide street. It had been flattened during the war with the Scourge, and damaged buildings dotted the surroundings. There was a clear line of sight of about 50ft from the 2nd story of the estate to the other side of the street where Syra currently hid herself.
The estate itself was along a long road on the furthest south western part of Silvermoon. Sequestered against the city wall, it completely walled off the garden in the back, and presented a U shape between the main building at the back, and two ancillary buildings on the left and right. A 2nd story balcony leading to their room rested above a grand door at the entrance of the main building. Each ancillary building possessed a singular-yet less grand-door as well.
Besides scaling the walls to gain access to the 2nd floor, these 3 doors served as the only entrances.
A translucent-blue bubble ward covered each door, and in fact, a similar film could be seen coating the windows.
During the night, the estate had wards active at all times, blocking every entrance. Only those who spoke the password could lower them.
In the case of the Vandercross Estate, it was an old child¡¯s rhyme from before the Sundering.
¡®Sun Sun
Shine Shine
One Son
Nine Divine¡¯
Syra didn''t know why Varrus¡¯ father had set up such an ancient rhyme to act as the code, but as of yet, only the most loyal had been taught this password.
The mana shield wasn''t particularly powerful, and could be broken by any Hero or mass attack. However it served as a deterrent to lesser threats, and acted as an alarm. Any popping of the bubble would create a loud sound alerting the guards to the location of the disturbance.
It was tricky to bypass, but Syra had done so on multiple occasions whilst doing her mother¡¯s dirty work.
Moving on from the basic mana shield defending the estate, Syra began to examine the House Guard stationed nearby.
She spotted two guards tiredly making idle chatter in front of the main entrance. Their heavy armor occasionally jingled as they shifted uncomfortably in place.
Syra mentally chided them for their inability to remain still, and their lack of Muffled equipment.
That was strike one against Rho''dan''s training methods.
Above the central structure sat the Arcane Tower. It was lit up like a lighthouse, indicating a constant power source. A beam of light swept across the grounds in front of the estate in a 360 arc. Any stealthed being caught in its light would become instantly visible. Once that occurred, the Elf manning the tower could launch lethal, cannon sized, concussive magical projectiles. Or it could shoot a less lethal option that paralyzed the target''s muscles.
Such buildings were costly to maintain without the power of a leyline or the Sunwell, and typically guarded important places.
Syra had been forced to blitz one before as training under her mother. Dodging the Arcane Bolts was difficult, but doable.
Sneaking past them, in her experience, was entirely dependent on the operator. With her mother behind the controls, none would pass.
As it stood, the current Arcane Tower operator seemed lazy, with wide sweeping arcs, hardly focusing or anticipating on locations where stealthed infiltrators may attack from.
Syra pressed her lips together in disappointment. That was another mark. She would have to find time to educate this lazy malcontent personally.
Moving on with her observation, Syra spotted four more guards patrolling the rooftops. A robed mage joined them on a figure eight rotation.
Syra noticed that all of them were Muffled, and comfortable in their armor. The mage was also refreshing a spell upon them periodically that enhanced sight.
A slow smile spread across her face as she realized that the two guardsman posted at the front door were obvious bait. However, their routes were too predictable, and could easily be bypassed.
Further analysis had her spot two, camouflaged, bow wielding rangers within the eaves of the adjacent buildings. In fact, there was even one resting above the ruined building that she was hiding under!
Perhaps Rho''dan wasn''t entirely hopeless as a chief guard, but that didn''t mean she was happy with the setup.
Whilst it was only due to her strict training, and enhanced Holy Void sight that she was able to just barely parse out the mana leaking from the ranger¡¯s bodies, that didn''t mean that others couldn''t do the same.
Her continued practice of Void magic led her to a greater understanding of her own stealth capabilities, and as a result, she could spot others hiding in the shadows that much easier. She speculated if another Highborn, or creature specialized in the Void, that they could develop similar capabilities.
Based upon her analysis of the environment, copious experience, and what she could see, this was the entirety of the outdoor protection unit.
Frankly speaking, she was unimpressed.
Silvermoon''s night scene once saw Elves exploring the city no matter the time of the day. However, with the loss of the Sunwell, the people lost the seemingly endless inner energy within them as well. Meaning that things like food and sleep that were once experienced out of desire, had now become a necessity.
Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.
As a consequence, the number of Elves that could patrol at night had significantly reduced compared to the past.
Whilst Syra was disappointed at their fall from grace, she was secretly happy.
Having spent her entire childhood fighting for her life, it was comforting to know that these self-serving, two-faced Highborn could no longer play dress up, and had to act like the paladin/warrior/ranger that they pretended to be for so long.
At the same time, she knew that her husband had a plan to restore the Sunwell. Those same smug Elves who had looked down upon him for all these years were forced to scrape and bow before him now that he held the key to their renewal.
All was right in the world.
Syra¡¯s grin widened as she took one last look at the estate¡¯s defenses, and prepared herself for a breach.
Clad in the shadow of a rogue, the world around her seemed to blur as a shroud of Shadow magic coated her form, making her invisible to all but the most astute.
Flexing her arms, and performing a few warm up stretches, Syra pushed away any of the negative thoughts niggling at the back of her head due to the Void magic, and felt herself unburdened as she thought of her star.
Taking a deep breath, she Muffled her steps, and rolled forward just as the lighthouse-like beam of light swept across the path in front of her.
The watchman in the loft above her didn''t notice a thing as Syra bypassed the entirety of the street.
Reaching the side of the wall, Syra noted that the surface had recently been smoothed over and recast in plaster, preventing any convenient handholds.
Syra mentally gave Rho''dan a plus 1 at this addition, yet she was still disappointed at the lazy Arcane Tower operator, canceling out this innovation.
Taking a step back, Syra found some nearby rubble, and took a minute to write an inscription upon it. She then tossed it across the street, creating a clattering noise.
The guards seemed alert, and ready for something, but a moment later, the stone Syra had tossed began to emit the soft mews of a kitten.
Syra overheard the House Guard chuckle to themselves in relief at a false alarm, but all Syra could do was shake her head in disappointment.
Whilst the watchmen were briefly distracted by the mewing, Syra channeled some of her Light energy into her legs, allowing her to easily jump up to the 2nd story.
Ordinarily, she would have to decloak to use a different school of magic, however, since she had learned to combine both powers, Syra no longer had to abide by the rules of common convention.
Now upon the 2nd story, Syra stalked forward like a cat searching for a rodent in the dark.
The guards had swept past her position several times, of which Syra had deliberately walked in a spot where they should have spotted her. That is, if the spell the mage had cast upon everyone was effective, that is.
Firming her lips, Syra wanted to knock this entire unit unconscious when she saw the mage consulting his scrying orb, and looking ¡®right¡¯ at her with a confused look on his face.
Syra rolled her eyes in exasperation, and made her way to the door on the balcony leading to her room.
She was going to perform a spell that allowed one to bypass flimsy barriers such as this one, however, as soon as she stood in front of the door, a pressure triggered plate underneath her feet was set off, and a cage of Arcane energy formed around her, revealing her form.
At that moment, pandemonium coursed through all of the guards as they sprang into action.
Arrows were notched on bow strings, the chant of a spell muttered, and swords drawn.
All this was done in a few seconds as the guards closed in on Syra''s location.
Feeling slightly embarrassed, she decided not to reveal her identity. After all, the guards wouldn''t try as hard next time if they knew it was her, right?
Having convinced herself that her reasoning was sound, Syra went about her escape.
Shattering the cage with an empowered attack, Syra backflipped to the square down below in the front of the estate.
As she ran away, the boom of the Arcane Tower firing shook the ground all around her, yet she was too fast.
Arrows whizzed by, and a homing magic missile chased her until she tossed some rubble in its path, creating a massive, white colored explosion.
Rapidly blinking her eyes at the bright light, Syra met with the rogue stationed in the building across the street, punching them in the sternum before they even had a chance to retaliate.
After running for another mile in a seemingly random pattern, Syra came to a stop within a derelict building.
Squatting down, she played with a broken stick, and poked some ashes as she reflected upon her failure.
Biting her lip, Syra couldn''t believe she had fallen to such an amateurish mistake!
If she was caught by the guards, she would be too embarrassed to face Varrus! Her mother would never let her hear the end of it!
Whilst Syra was hyper focused on her fuming, a heavy hand silently placed itself on her shoulder, and clenched down, holding her in place.
She almost retaliated with an instinctual attack, only to stop herself at the last moment as she recognized the redheaded Elf standing beside her.
¡®Where did he learn to be so quiet?¡¯ Syra thought to herself as she silently appraised the chief of the guards with caution.
¡°You know, Lady Vandercross, you could take the stairs like everyone else.¡± Rho''dan intoned seriously.
¡°I was merely testing the defenses, Rho''dan.¡± Syra commented in an offhand, disinterested manner.
¡°Did you find them wanting?¡± Rho''dan replied with a savage grin.
Syra wanted to scowl at the guard for his confrontational tone of voice.
¡°I found them adequate, Rho''dan, but there were a few gaps that I discovered during my foray. Now if you would, release me now, I wish to return to my beloved.¡± Syra said as she made to stand.
However, Rho''dan¡¯s hand remained firmly clasped to her shoulder, much to Syra¡¯s growing displeasure. It was only due to his connection to Varrus that she did not act out on any of her impulses.
¡°Look, Lady Vandercross, I know you don¡¯t trust me much, but Varrus is like my beloved nephew. I see the way he looks at you, and I see the way you treat him, and I don¡¯t like it.¡± Rho''dan leaned forward, and increased the pressure on his grip, then let go.
¡°Come again?¡± Syra stood up, and let her hair cover the front of her face.
¡°His world was shattered 11 days ago. The happy go lucky kid I knew was replaced by a cynic. Your love is the only thing going, and for that, I cannot thank you enough. But don¡¯t think I can¡¯t see what is going on. I do not like the way you have been treating Varrus. I¡¯ll be watching you.¡± Rho''dan said, taking a step backward without ever turning his back to her, before he disappeared into the early morning fog.
Syra felt the corner of her lips twitch as she watched him walk out of her line of sight.
Who was he to tell her how to treat her man!?
Hmph!
How did she treat Varrus any differently than how a wife should? She cooked his food, took care of his needs, and slew their enemies. There wasn''t a more perfect woman out there! Varrus said so!
Syra hotly made her way home-and she most certainly did not stomp all the way-with a swirl of thoughts occupying her mind.
Once she came to the front entrance, she ignored the greetings of the guards, and made her way to her room.
Opening the door, Syra scanned everywhere in search of Varrus, so that she might satisfy their mutual desires, only to find him sound asleep in a chair by the door.
A platter of cold food rested by his side, clearly prepared for her, and a small bit of drool dripped down the corner of his mouth.
All the anger, rage, and pent up desire within her fled like winter giving way to spring.
Syra had a small smile whilst she watched Varrus cutely shiver from the cold coming from the hallway.
Gently closing the door behind her, she slowly picked him up, so as not to wake him, and tucked him in bed.
Disrobing, and lowering herself to rest by his side, Syra stared unblinkingly at his face to burn his image into her mind.
This was the man she had married.
Forget about Rho''dan or her mother.
She chose this. Her. Not her mother, not old man Vandercross. She did this!
Everything of hers was his, and everything of his was hers. They were two parts to one whole.
He was her Star, and she was his Sun.
Oh how she loved him.
Planting a shallow kiss on his cheek, Syra took one last loving gaze at her beloved, then closed her eyes, welcoming the sweet embrace of sleep.
Chapter 53
Varrus woke up to the warmth of the sun on his face, and a warm body in his embrace.
His morning wood was trapped between a warm crevasse, and when he tried to pull back and reach for some water, he felt a pressure lock around his dick that was slightly painful, but mostly arousing.
Sleepily opening his eyes, Varrus was greeted by his wife''s unblinking golden eyes, and a wide smile.
Varrus smiled back, and kissed her on the lips.
She wordlessly shifted her thighs, and Varrus felt his arousal growing as his morning wood began to become rock hard.
Tossing aside the blanket, Varrus admired his wife''s smooth, almond toned skin. He ran a hand lovingly down her side, and slapped a hand on her ass, eliciting her to jolt at the contact.
Grinning lewdly at her, Varrus kissed her on the nose, and for his trouble, received a gentle thunk on his forehead.
Syra gently ran her hand through his hair, and held the back of his head. She then spit in her other hand, and reached back to lube up his cock head.
Varrus couldn''t hold back, and began to buck his hips between her thighs. Syra''s smooth, almond skin rippled as he picked up his pace.
He was beginning to gasp in short bursts of pleasure, and almost lost it when Syra began to lick, and nibble on his nipples.
Her tongue flicked and twisted over his nipple, and warm saliva coated his chest. This new and unexpected sensation had Varrus bite the bottom of his lip, and close his eyes as he drew close.
¡°Give it to me~¡± Syra moaned in Varrus¡¯ ear.
¡°Huff huff huff¡± Varrus gasped when she suddenly reached down, and planted his cock into her vagina.
The sudden heat and pooling juices covered his cock in warmth and pleasure, squeezing down with such an intensity, he felt like he was going to lose it.
¡°Please.¡±
Varrus beheld his wife''s begging face, and lost all reason.
Pushing her down, Varrus grabbed her by the hands, and kissed her lips.
He grinned as he saw her arch her back, and her inner walls tightened around his cock. Pleasuring his partner was a pleasure all on its own.
Picking up the pace, he worked his hand on her slit at the same time, and was rewarded when she let loose with an uncontrollable ¡°hieeyaaah!¡±
Syra matched his smile, and wrapped her arms behind his neck, pulling him close. Her hot breath tickled his ear, and her voice shouted his name.
¡°VARRUS! VARRUS!¡±
He could hold back no longer, and a fountain of cum erupted inside his darling wife.
She gripped him by the arms, and then swapped positions, mounting him reverse cowgirl style.
Without letting him catch a breath, Syra started coming down upon his cock like a piston. Her booty shook up and down, mesmerizing Varrus so much, he couldn''t help but slap her ass repeatedly.
Red hand prints began to accumulate upon Syra¡¯s ass cheeks, but every time he brought his hand down, his wife moaned that much louder.
The little masochist looked back at Varrus, and flashed him a smile, she then leaned back, and rested her back upon Varrus¡¯s chest. Her sweat released sweet smelling pheromones, and Varrus couldn''t help but lick her shoulder.
¡°Varrus!¡± Syra exclaimed in a mixture of shock and anger as she squirmed uncontrollably under the lap of his tongue.
¡®So you¡¯re ticklish!¡¯ Varrus¡¯s thought as his eyes flashed with untold mischief.
His cock felt her walls contract and juices gush around his head and shaft whilst she twisted and turned from being tickled.
Grinning like the cat that caught the canary, Varrus continued to lap at her shoulder, and pounded away like no tomorrow. The sound of flesh slapping on flesh rebounded within his penthouse-like bedroom, and Syra''s co tinted uncomfortable squirming paired with the occasional giggle were music to his ears.
¡°I mean it, Varrus!¡± Syra all but growled while she continued to squirm.
She then coated her entire body in a thin film of Light energy, and condensed it around his cock. The swirl of magic combined with her hot pussy juices vibrated around his cock like a sex toy.
Both Varrus and Syra moaned in sync and shuddered as this new magical technique took them to the heights of orgasm.
Syra''s face was flush, and her ass sore, as she was rocked back and forth atop him in an effort to wring every last drop out of Varrus¡¯s cock.
When he stopped bucking his hips, Syra got off his dick, and began to jerk him off. Her mouth wrapped around his cockhead, and she began to play with it, suckling every last burst of semen she could get her tongue on.
Varrus looked on in amazement as he plastered his wife¡¯s face white. Semen dripped down her chest, onto her ample bosom, and onto the sheets. The new Stamina stats were not playing around!
He took a moment to admire his work, and felt himself stiffen even harder as she began to giggle and wink at him when she caught a reflection of herself in a nearby mirror. After a moment, Varrus cast a cleansing spell, cleaning her face, and when he was ready to pounce on her once more, she took him by the cock, and led him towards the shower.
Varrus felt the tug on his penis, allowed himself to be taken along for the ride, curious as to his beautiful wife¡¯s intentions. During the brief journey, his gaze was mesmerized by the red handprints on the back of her juicy ass, sending him ablaze with horny passion.
He wanted her now.
Before they could even reach the shower, Varrus removed her hand from his cock, and took her from behind.
Pressing into her doggy style, Syra barely had enough time to hold onto a nearby wall as he pressed into her.
Despite her brief exhale of surprise, Syra turned back to say something, only for Varrus to force her head forward so he could focus on the pleasure.
¡°Harder!¡± Syra commanded without missing a beat.
Closing his eyes, and biting his lower lip, Varrus complied with her order, and did all in his power to last as long as he could.
Varrus grabbed her by the back of her hair, and took a long whiff of it, wrapping the beautiful blonde locks around his fingers. The smell of unknown flowers and perfumes unique to his wife had his heart beat at untold heights. This was the smell. She was so difficult to detect, but when he got this close to her, she had this distinct sweetness that was so flavorful, so complex, so Syra, it sent him into madness.
This was the scent of his one and only!
¡°Syra.¡± Varrus growled in her ear, and ripped her arms off the wall so he could hold her closer.
¡°Yes! Yes!¡± Syra shouted back, and matched the tempo of his cock by pushing herself back into him.
The sound of her ass slapping into his groin was a constant source of joy as Varrus figuratively ate up his wife, body and soul.
Her smile, her scent, her silky blonde hair, her smooth skin, and most importantly, her undying love! He wanted it all!
Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.
*plop plop plop plop* Varrus¡¯s dick slapped into her juicy pussy repeatedly, and her ass shook with an untold hunger. Holding onto her hands, Varrus gasped in pleasure as he drank in the expression of dazed confusion that played across her face. He was fucking her so hard, she didn¡¯t even know where she was anymore!
Fuck!
He felt her body shake, and rock as she orgasmed once, twice, three times in a row! The warmth and overpowering desire pouring out of her set Varrus off, and white hot semen came like never before.
Pulling out, Varrus was going to go get a cup of water, when he felt another tug.
Looking down, he saw that the madness had In fact, not left his wife''s eyes, and she was taking him towards the shower once again.
Varrus scratched the back of his head a little nervously.
¡®Ah, what the hell, I can go for round 3.¡¯ Varrus grinned like a doofus as he happily followed after his wife.
Idly, he noticed a chef''s outfit hanging on a nearby coat rack, but a not so gentle tug had him moving along.
However, instead of going to the bathroom, they entered an antechamber attached to his massive room.
Before Varrus had time to blink, he found himself strapped down to a table, with his wife mounting him in a cowgirl position.
¡°Syra?¡± Varrus questioned.
Flexing his arms, he felt like he could break free from this given his recently improved stats, but what was this all about?
¡°You''re mine, and only mine.¡± Syra said, as if that explained everything.
Varrus felt his heart tighten as the light of crazy entered his wife''s eyes a little more than usual. It was so easy to forget that she was so¡well, she was who she was.
He could only shake his head in exasperation as she pressed uncomfortably hard on his chest with the palms of her hands.
¡°Tell me what''s wrong?¡± Varrus said as he was concerned over his wife¡¯s well being.
¡°You belong to me.¡± Syra pouted, letting her hair cover her face.
¡°We are husband and wife, of course I belong to you, the same as you belong to me.¡± Varrus rolled his eyes, yet made sure to speak in a matter of fact tone. As if to imply ¡®duh! what aren''t you seeing here?!¡¯
¡°But you shook hands with the Prince, you spoke nicely in front of 200,000 people about another woman, you let a rugged man follow behind you everyday.¡± Syra said aggressively as she began to pick up her tempo, and slapped her ass harder and harder down upon him.
¡°Syra, I love only you. When the Scourge invaded, I only had the courage to stand against them because of you. When we cleaned the streets of the Undead, I only left the safety of my home because I had you by my side. When I confronted the wise, it was only thanks to your love that we triumphed over Thaladred & Sanguinar''s opposition. When you volunteered to fight the Trolls elsewhere, I was in a state of constant worry, yet I was assured, there was no one I trusted more than you to win against them. When you arrived in a hurry to the beach and I fell into a state of mental corruption, the monster told me I was unworthy of you, and nearly drove me to madness. We won that race to the flag against Goldilocks and his Green Bean lover. WE are a team!
You are my Sun, Syra, the light that drives apart the clouds of madness that threaten my soul. Can you not see that I love you? That you are my everything? I say less about you in public, because I know you know this.¡± Varrus said lovingly, and tenderly and slowly kissed her from her chin, up her cheek, then finishing with a kiss on the forehead.
Syra stopped pressing down upon him, and swept her hair to the side, giving him a clear look at her face. No longer was she the moody young lover he had seen a moment ago, but a hint of fragility could be seen within the soul of her eyes.
Varrus felt his heart tighten, when he saw this vulnerability, and feelings of the need to protect suffused his spirit like no other.
This was a damaged girl who had undergone great trauma, and who knew what under that Disney Villain mother of hers.
All he wanted to do was to pull her close, and cuddle under a blanket. Tell her it would be okay. Maybe even drink some hot chocolate, and laugh at recordings of his doomed performances on the stage.
Any man would want to protect his woman, even if she was capable of slicing a dragon in half, or even going against the Gods one day, that feeling would never change. For Varrus, it was an instinct as natural as breathing.
¡°Varrus, my Star.¡± Syra said with a choked voice, barely holding back tears, she stroked his cheek lovingly with the back of her hand.
Her face warbled, and whilst she stroked his cheek, he saw her subtly wince.
Narrowing his eyes, Varrus noticed a bruise on the corner of her hand.
¡°Who did this?¡± Varrus hissed as he gripped her by the wrist, and pointed at the small purplish spot on her otherwise flawless skin.
Syra tried to pull back, but Varrus refused to let go.
¡°Who did this?¡± Varrus dangerously growled.
Who had the BALLS to harm his wife?!
Syra seemed to see something in him, and her weak, slumped shoulders-a weakness she only ever showed around him, her most beloved-straightened out, and a twinkle entered her eye.
Varrus noticed the change in demeanor, but he didn''t care. He knew his wife was doing more than just pressing flowers, Rho''dan had kept him up to date on what he could, and more than that, it was a husband''s intuition that his wife was out causing trouble.
But he didn''t care about that! All he was interested in, was braining the bastard who harmed his wife.
Syra paused for a moment, seeming to collect her thoughts, then she began to draw circles with her finger on Varrus¡¯s chest as she began to explain what had happened.
¡°Your pet ranger and I had a little spar whilst investigating the origins of Dakar¡¯s outburst. I know he is your tool, but he is a lascivious fool, one who suggested a threescore between us.¡± Syra said in a disinterested, yet distinctly dangerous tone of voice.
Varrus narrowed his eyes.
He had seen this attitude with Syra before. If he didn''t seriously teach Halduron a lesson, she might go all Sanguinar on him.
However, if what she said was true, then perhaps the Farstrider Commander had it coming.
Besides, the suggestion to off Lor''Themar had soured him to Halduron. He may have been a pawn of his father¡¯s, but that did not make Halduron his pawn. There was little in the way of political allies he had inherited from his father, and as far as Varrus was concerned, he was doing an alright job on his own.
Varrus had intended to investigate Halduron anyway for his suspicious timing, leaving Dakar¡¯s cell-wait a minute.
¡°Where exactly did you say you sparred with Halduron?¡± Varrus frowned, and said tersely.
¡°In front of Dakar¡¯s residence. What plot has my brilliant husband thought up?¡±
¡°Nothing much, just a thought about paying my good friend, Commander Brightwing a beating.¡± Varrus said with a grin.
Syra replied with a matching grin of her own, and thunked her forehead onto his own.
¡°No one crosses a Vandercross.¡± Syra¡¯s soft voice whispered in Varrus¡¯s ear as a look of ecstatic murder spread across her face.
For once, Varrus silently agreed with his wife¡¯s murderous tendencies. The family that slayed together, stayed together.
Whilst he didn''t plan to kill Halduron, Varrus did plan on paying him a beating sometime down the line. He didn''t know if he was behind Dakar, and would have to question Rho''dan about the truth of last night¡¯s events. However, Halduron messed with his wife, and threatened to kill Lor''Themar.
The Old Man was a pain in the ass, but Varrus found that he was the most honest, and fair Elf that he had come across. As one of the pillars of Highborn society, Lor''Themar was a great Ranger General, and someone Varrus hoped he could call friend.
The only thing Halduron had going for him was that he supposedly owed Varrus¡¯ father a favor for his promotion. With Varrus failing to live up to his own promise to promote Halduron as the new Ranger General, who knew what kind of hidden animosity he might be harboring?
Shaking his head, Varrus decided he would table any direct confrontation for later. He was an incredibly busy man who had to clean up the Dead Scar, and secure building materials to restore Silvermoon.
As troubling as his suspicions regarding Halduron were, they were just that. Suspicions.
Until then, he would have Rho''dan increase his investigations.
During his musings, Syra had returned to her default silence. However, Varrus had learned enough about her to know that once she was quiet was when Syra was most obedient.
Syra leaned down, and rested her cheek on his chest, and closed her eyes like a tired cat, claiming the perfect spot to take a nap.
Only one problem.
During this entire conversation, Varrus was still raging hard inside of her!
She had literally led him by the dick, and was promising great sex, only to treat him like a cat imperiously claiming its favorite perch?
Fine, you want to play these games?! Then we''ll play these games!
Varrus pulled the manacles that tied him to the table taught, and snapped them right off.
Syra blinked owlishly in confusion up at him, but Varrus didn''t give a damn!
¡°Take responsibility for your actions woman!¡± Varrus raged as he pressed Syra down for round 4.
Syra grinned up at him with a self satisfied smirk that only a woman could do when she had gotten her way.
A vein throbbed on Varrus''s forehead in anger as he knew he had fallen into her ploy, both for sex and for revenge on Halduron.
Fuck!
This realization only fueled him to go harder! You want to be loved? To be coveted over all others, including his work responsibilities?!
You want my children so bad?!
Fine!
¡®Syra you treacherous, beautiful bitch, I''m going to fuck your brains out till you can''t walk for days!¡¯
¡°You are mine.¡± Varrus growled as he took her.
Syra merely flashed him her trademark smile, only driving him into further madness.
¡®Forget days, you won¡¯t walk for a week after I¡¯m done with you!¡¯
Chapter 54
Crossing his arms, and grinning from ear to ear, Varrus watched on in pride as his wife deliriously fell into sleep after an entire day and night of nonstop sex.
She wanted to be loved, to know that she was number one in his heart? Well he had delivered on that unspoken promise, and so much more.
With the unending stamina of his gamer-like body, he was like an endless machine, forcing echoes of Syra''s pleasured gasps to spread in all directions.
For a time, she used her abilities as a paladin, and faith in the Light to keep up, but without Mana Stones, she couldn''t hold out for more than a few hours.
That was when Varrus had the ingenious idea to farm exp whilst he was in the midst of making love to his wife.
His Illusion skill tree had been lacking lately, and was sitting at the Apprentice level for the longest time. Before, he had been spamming Muffle, and had finally reached Adept in Illusion, unlocking the ultimate bedroom spell.
Rally.
This spell increased morale, health, and stamina. In effect, it felt like the Sunwell had never disappeared so long as Varrus maintained this spell.
Ordinarily, Illusion spells had a high chance of being ineffective against powerful individuals, but in Syra''s case, she was a willing participant.
The feeling of limitless energy and positive morale had sent Syra into an aggression he had never seen before!
Once he finally cut the spell 24hrs later, the entire day''s event caught up to her, and the focused fury of no stop action saw her legs warble, and she had collapsed in bed sound asleep.
Varrus took one last look at her, making sure she was okay, then kissed her on the cheek.
He had burned a day to satisfy his carnal desires, and if there was anything he had realized in his short term living in Warcraft, every minute counted.
At the very least, he got something out of yesterday more than the pleasure of the flesh.
He had learned how to grind his exp, AND his wife''s satisfaction at the same time.
The numbers backed him up too.
Constantly using one Adept level spell over and over again saw his Illusion skill advance to Master tier over the course of 24hrs.
True, he had skipped out on a night''s worth of creating Mana Stones, but he had seen the effectiveness of the Illusion skill tree when it came to interrogating Dakar.
Furthermore, Illusion would be great for big battles, or Varrus theorized, for resisting mental corruption.
Upon further review, Varrus came to the conclusion that the Illusion skill tree was absolutely broken, morally dubious, and honestly pretty scary. Within, there were spells for invisibility, mind control that allowed Varrus to pilot someone''s body as if he had possessed them, and even a spell that magically enslaved foes with <20% like catching a weakened pokemon with an ultraball.
It was honestly frightening what kind of mind fuckery Varrus could get up to if he tried.
A few of Varrus''s favorite spells were Spectral Warband, and Magicka Void:
Spectral Warband: Manifests illusions of all allies in combat for 60 seconds. Illusions take extra damage from attacks.
Mana Void: Reduces the Health percentage of all targets to match their Magicka percentage.
Whereas some of his favorite perks were Silent Storm, Commanding Presence, and Imposing Presence:
Silent Storm (2) - All spells you cast from any school of magic/, as well as all shouts, are silent to others.
Commanding Presence - In combat, you radiate an aura of mystical nobility that touches allied creatures and people within 40 feet. Those affected gain 20% extra attack damage and have a 20% chance of a critical strike.
Imposing Presence - You radiate an aura of mystical charisma that touches all within 40 feet. Any Illusion spell you cast on those affected is 25% more powerful and lasts 30% longer.
There were just so many Illusion spells, that the opportunities were limitless. Spectral Warband would essentially double, or triple the number of combatants on the field. For the Blood Elves, this was a massive boon considering their low number.
Mana Void was an interesting feature in a mass battle as well. Blood Elves were mana addicts by nature, and would likely be casting some form of mana drain upon their foes mid combat to keep up their reserves, and satisfy their addiction. Combine this with many of Varrus¡¯s perks that both drained and prevented mana regeneration, then he could wreak havoc across wide swaths of his enemies across the battlefield.
There were many other insidious spells that temporarily drained a percentage of an enemies hp, or manifested illusions of the dead to attack Varrus''s enemies, but Varrus figured he would use them when it was most practical.
In general, most of the other Illusion spells were for routing the enemy with Fear, emboldening his own troops with Rally, or 1v1''s. For example, Varrus had a handful of spells/perks like Pale Shadow that allowed him to conjure an illusion of an enemy. They typically only had 1% hp, but could match 100% of the damage. That was an insane take, especially if Varrus managed to get this sort of spell off on a Dragon Aspect, or other monstrous demi-god tier opponent.
Besides spells useful in fighting 1v1''s, there were perks like Imposing/Commanding Presence that made Varrus an even bigger beast on the battlefield.
A 25% boost in his allies attack damage was crazy!
That seemingly little boost could be the difference between a spear glancing off some armor, and going through the armor, like something straight out of a Hollywood movie!
Furthermore, Varrus was curious to see if these modifiers would work in conjunction with his Speech skill. Because if they did, his intimidation checks were about to become spicy.
If random Heroes like that one Elf chick who spoke out at him during the massive funeral a few days ago did so again, Varrus would see them wet their pants in fear from the sheer mystical aura of authority that he projected.
Lastly, there was the obvious stealth capabilities afforded to him.
Muffle, Invisibility, and Silent Storm were the bread and butter of any assassins wet dream.
The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
To walk silently whilst invisible, and cast silent spells? Now that was simply unfair!
Varrus really had to find the time to upgrade his Sneak skill post haste if he wanted to capitalize on this diabolical combination.
In the future, he could take on the role of spy, saboteur, or scout with these abilities. Sure, he could just as easily pick up a bow and snipe his enemies from stealth, but wouldn''t it be much more fun to drop a Frenzy spell in the flanks of the enemy? Watch them go mad as they went at it upon one another?
In fact, he could even do this to Demons or the Undead thanks to the perk Master of the Mind.
Master of the Mind - Mind affecting spells (Calm, Fear, Frenzy, Rally, etc) and perks like Commanding Presence also work on Undead, Demons, automatons, etc.
Not even the dead would be safe from Varrus¡¯s torment!
He could imagine the shock on one of the Dreadlords¡¯ faces as their mindless minions scattered in fear, or tore at one another despite their best efforts to command them.
A deliciously evil smile spread across Varrus''s face when he began to consider all of the absolutely broken methods that Illusion magic had unlocked for him.
And he could thank all this exp grinding thanks to his lovely wife. Whilst he typically focused on making Mana Crystals at night, he wouldn''t mind spending a few nights of the week focused on making babies instead!
Sadly, his Illusion skill didn''t level as quickly as Alteration did due to Rally being an Adept spell that he cast every few minutes. In contrast, when Varrus worked on Mana Stones, he was casting that spell every damn second of the night. The amount of levels farmed were simply in a different tier.
In conclusion: sex was awesome, but temporary. The grind for exp, however, was eternal.
Leaving the musky confines of his room, Varrus lazily stretched, and saluted a pair of guards standing at attention outside his door.
He caught note of their side eyed glances, but Varrus thought nothing of it. Most Elves were getting freaky given the sudden threat to the society. Besides, a Muffle ward was placed upon his room, and anything these guards thought was speculation at best.
As amusing as interacting with the House Guard was, Varrus had a huge responsibility that he couldn''t put off any longer. He had to get right on to blasting the Dead Scar free of its taint, but he wanted to get a status update from Rho''dan first. To question him about his wife''s whereabouts, and see if he had learnt anything new about the assassination attempt.
¡°Where is Rho''dan?¡± Varrus questioned one of the guards.
¡°He is in the dungeon, Highlord.¡± One of them replied.
Varrus nodded in reply, yet tilted his head to the side in curiosity. If Rho''dan imprisoned someone within the estate, he must want to keep it hush hush.
What exactly had stirred up his chief enforcers caution?
Heading downstairs, Varrus walked down a dizzying maze of corridors before he reached a seeming dead end. The wall was gray, and nondescript like any other.
The Vandercross Family Locket lit up in response as he drew near, and Varrus held it up to the wall, causing it to shimmer and disappear like a hidden entrance from Dark Souls.
A creeping cold seeped out of the dungeon, and reminded Varrus of walking into the frozen section of a store. His breaths churned up a faint mist, and fog blinded his every step.
Torches lined the wall, and lit up as he passed them by due to some motion detecting magic. Granting just enough light for which he could see.
After another minute of tracking through the fog, Varrus heard the pained howls of desperation coming from a nearby cell.
Emerging from the fog, Varrus played witness to Rho''dan standing aside with his arms crossed whilst one of the Crossguard poked an Elf chained to the wall with a glowing wand.
Every time the wand touched a spot, the bound Elf would squirm in agony.
¡°A useful tool we should have brought when we interrogated Dakar, don¡¯t you think?¡± Varrus questioned as he pulled up beside Rho''dan.
¡°Highlord.¡± Rho''dan bowed. ¡°The Seven Wands of Misery are a highly illegal item. Knight-Lord Dranarus would have barred our entry should he have caught wind of them being within our possession.¡± Rho''dan explained.
During his explanation, the torturer swapped wands, this time when he poked the prisoner, they began laughing uncontrollably, so much so, that tears began to pool beneath their eyes.
Varrus took in this grim sight, and wondered what other horrors these immortals had thought up in their boredom.
Shaking his head in pity, Varrus turned to address Rho''dan.
¡°Very well. What did this one do?¡± Varrus gestured towards the Elf.
¡°Have you heard of the Cult of the Damned?¡± Rho''dan asked.
¡°Of course, they were founded by the necromancer, Kel¡¯Thuzad, and were the ones responsible for spreading plague and infecting the Humans'' granary. Because of their actions, the Scourge became the source of all our problems.¡± Varrus replied.
¡°A close summary, but not entirely accurate. How do you think the Humans first learned necromancy?¡± Rho''dan leaned forward and said ominously.
¡°Of course we did it.¡± Varrus slapped his head in exasperation as the truth came to light.
¡°The point is, Highlord, that the seeds of the Cult of the Damned had been planted long ago. Inevitably, this research entered the hands of the Humans, and has spread once more amongst our people much to our misfortune.¡± Rho''dan explained.
¡°Without their immortality, are our people so weak willed that they would willingly transform themselves into the Undead?¡± Varrus shook his head in disgust.
He had seen what becoming an intelligent Undead did to most people. Their emotions became muted, often to the degree that only the most intense feelings of hunger, rage, antipathy and depression persisted to the point of madness.
Rho''dan maintained his silence, confirming Varrus¡¯s speculation.
¡°Very well, have you had any leads?¡± Varrus pushed forward, determined to solve this internal strife.
¡°Actually, yes. The other night, Lady Vandercross caused quite the stir. Invading the Royal Palace, and engaging with an unknown enemy suspected to be a cultist, the damages were intense.¡± Rho''dan stonily intoned.
Although his face was smooth like water, Varrus picked up that his head enforcer was unhappy with something.
Varrus rubbed the bridge of his nose in consternation. Of course his wife sent him to beat up Halduron, and had completely omitted the fact that she was in a death defying fight.
¡°During her escapades, she uncovered an amulet. It will slightly vibrate when within 30ft of another amulet. That is how I discovered this traitor within our ranks.¡± Rho''dan gestured, and showed Varrus a somewhat familiar looking serpent-like dragon amulet.
Varrus shook his head, as he ultimately could not place where he had seen it before.
¡°Good work, Rho''dan. Keep me posted if you discover anything new. I also heard from Syra that she encountered Halduron outside of Dakar¡¯s residence?¡±
¡°The Farstrider Commander is difficult to keep tabs on, he isn''t the leader of Silvermoon''s special forces for nothing. I have nothing on him as of yet. However, I have a plan.¡± Rho''dan said in disappointment.
¡°What would you have me do?¡± Varrus asked for his chief protector''s advice.
¡°When the opportunity arises, we must engage our suspects with the amulet in hand. If we receive a ping back, then we will know them for the cultists that they are.¡±
¡°Hmm, that would take too long. Instead, let us host a banquet, inviting all of the most influential Elves in all of Quel''Thalas. We can snatch the traitors all in one fell swoop, and those who do not attend shall go on a watch list.¡± Varrus stroked his chin as a devious smile broke out across his face.
¡°A wise plan, Highlord, I estimate that everyone can gather within roughly 5 days. Shall I carry out the invitations?¡± Rho''dan suggested.
¡°Agreed, and thank you Rho''dan, I don''t know where I¡¯d be without you. I¡¯m going to disenchant this amulet, and make a few more so that spotting the traitors would be that much easier. Then I''ll begin my clean up of the city, don¡¯t let me keep you from questioning the prisoner.¡± Varrus smiled, and clapped Rho''dan on the shoulder before turning away.
When Varrus left the premises, the other Crossguard turned to Rho''dan.
¡°His ruthlessness is rising, to kill them all in one fell swoop, I am speechless!¡± The Crossguard said in admiration.
¡°Varrus is still learning, he is almost on his father¡¯s level.¡± Rho''dan said with a hint of pride in his voice.
Gathering everyone together was sure to cause a massive brawl. He had better check with his counterpart, Knight-Lord Dranarus first before enacting this scheme.
Chapter 55
Heading towards his study for some quick enchantment work, Varrus left Rho''dan in a chipper mood. Finally, finally he was going to murder those bastards who had been plotting against him in the dark!
Over the last 4 or 5 days since the battle with the Amani, he had tried not to think about it too much because if he did, he would be jumping at every shadow, and live in constant paranoia.
Besides, there were other considerations at the time more important than any personal vendetta. Varrus had to hold a funeral, convince Lor''Themar to join the Convocation, get Kael to focus on Eversong instead of revenge, and take care of the actual running of the country.
Now that a few days had passed since the attempt on his life, and things cooled off a tad, this new lead was exactly what Varrus needed.
Taking inspiration from the Red Wedding in Game of Thrones, Varrus would be throwing the biggest gala since the Scourging of Silvermoon!
If he knew smug Elves-and he knew smug Elves-they would eat that shit up.
Heck, the very day of the Scourge invasion, Varrus had held an impromptu speech within the dance hall, and shared wine with the survivors, much to their applause!
Varrus would market it as a new start, as a meet and greet with the King and Convocation so that the ¡®movers and shakers¡¯ of society could get to know their new leaders. The self important and egotistical Elves would get a kick out of that.
And should Varrus not so discreetly use this event as another means to flex his wealth, power, and authority? Why, that was all a happy coincidence!
The more Varrus thought about it, the more excited he became. Whilst he wasn''t much one for parties, he was looking forward to see the aghast looks on the Elves¡¯ faces when he would recite Shakespear.
Meanwhile, he would kill two birds with one stone by revealing the cultists amongst high society. While Varrus disdained people who wanted him dead such as the Trolls, at least they were open about their hatred. In his opinion, he¡¯d rather take that every day than a dagger in the back. Because there was nothing more disgusting on Earth or Azeroth than a traitor.
He fought tooth and nail against the zombies in a desperate bid for survival during the invasion, and instead of continuing to resist for a brighter future together, they joined the very perpetrators of their demise, the Scourge, at the first sign of immortality?
It was sickening!
Varrus didn''t think he could have a lower evaluation of smug Elf behavior, yet somehow his new people found new lows.
He may have been lenient with Dakar considering that he was a political hostage securing Koren''s loyalty. But anyone Varrus caught propagating the Cult of the Damned would receive no mercy.
Once he had purged Silvermoon of this cancer-both without and within-then he would work together with Kael¡¯Thas to purge the taint from the Ghostlands. From there, Varrus would make new allies, and establish Quel''Thalas as the dominant power in the Eastern Kingdoms. To become a power that rivaled, or exceeded that of the Horde and the Alliance.
His happy go lucky friend was fortunate that all he had to do was smile, and smite their foe¡¯s on the frontline. Meanwhile, Varrus had to root out the traitors, and hidden daggers lurking in the dark.
It was risky to gather everyone like this due to the level of danger collateral damage that could unfold, but he figured the reward would be well worth the risk. There also was no guarantee that some fish would slip through the net, and leave their amulets at home. However, these were cultists obsessed over immortality, who knew how rational most of them were? Varrus was willing to gamble on the fact that they might get conceited, and even use this event to flex upon one another with their social standing.
He could see the smug Elf conversation in his mind''s eye, clear as day.
¡®Oh, I didn''t see you at the Vandercross banquet, what a surprise!¡¯
It carried the same asshole energy as: ¡®you don¡¯t get to the Cloud District often, do you?¡¯
Master crafters, ancient warriors, storied priests, and widened mages would be attending this event. Each and every one of them being hundreds or thousands of years older than Varrus. Two weeks ago, they had intimidated him during the Scourge invasion, threatening to abolish the Convocation. Essentially delegating Varrus to being just another noble¡¯s useless scion, one who would have very little sway over Kael¡¯Thas, or the direction that this country was headed towards.
All out of petty pride, and a hatred for a youth outshining them in their nation''s most dire hour of need.
Hypocritical slime.
Simply put, Highborne culture was toxic like a French Renaissance court, and Varrus intended to dangle his Mana Stones over their pretty blonde heads like a parent jingling some keys. To remind them that for all their skills, influence and pride, they were beholden to the mercy of Vandercross!
Furthermore, so as to draw the cultists in, and not scare any away, Varrus decided to make this into a masked ball. With their identities seemingly hidden, even the most reticent would be willing to engage in the largest gathering of socialites post Scourge invasion.
With the big fish captured or killed, the ensuing interrogations would hopefully reveal the mastermind behind the cult, as well as all those bottom level subordinates that couldn''t make it to the party.
Anonymity amongst cultists was an intelligent tactic, but Varrus didn''t believe that every cultist was unaware of the identity of one or two other members. Like that, Varrus hoped to generate a domino effect, and snatch up the malcontents in one fell swoop.
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
He had considered sending Rho''dan to sweep the streets with an amulet I''m hand, and see what he could find. However, Varrus didn''t want to spook the rats to go deeper into their hidey holes.
Furthermore, it was too much of a pain in the ass to search out every single member of the Convocation and member of the wise one at a time. If he did that, Varrus was concerned that the real cultists would catch wind of the operation, and ditch their amulets.
In conclusion, he was banking upon Elven arrogance and desire for the risqu¨¦ by holding this banquet. He figured the average cultist would be much too prideful to leave their amulets at home, and in a display of typical Elven idiocy, feel superiorly smug whilst internally deriding the regular party goers.
As to why Varrus was beholden to this amulet gimmick, and not using the spell Clairvoyance to find everyone?
Well, his Skyrim UI was useful for things like leveling, and spells, but he could not do things like fast travel, pause, save, or blindly follow the map.
Whilst Varrus sat himself down in his office, and got to work disenchanting the amulet, he inwardly sulked at the dubious usefulness of that particular Skyrim spell.
Clairvoyance.
It was a simple spell that: Shows the path to the current goal.
That was straightforward text, and theoretically, it should act no different than Jack Sparrow¡¯s compass from Pirates of the Caribbean. Showing him the direction he needed to travel in regardless of what it is.
When Varrus cast Clairvoyance, a blue trail that only he could see would spawn in front of him, detailing a route like a car would for a GPS.
Theoretically, Varrus could focus on a goal like ¡®take me to a font of limitless power¡¯ or ¡®my goal is to find my assassin¡¯ or ¡®my goal is to find Deathwing¡¯ or even ¡®take me to an ore vein of adamantium.¡¯
Out of all of these suppositions, only the font of limitless power, and the goal to find Deathwing would generate a trail.
Take for example, the maze he had entered when competing with Kael¡¯Thas. He knew that he needed a flag, he knew roughly where it was (atop the very visible big ass tree in the center), all the GPS had to do was find him a way. Just like in real life, a person might be visiting a major city, and want to find the airport. They know the airport exists, and the mapping software plans the route based upon the user''s inputs.
Varrus roughly knew where two of these places were. The font of limitless power was the Well of Eternity on Kalimdor, and Varrus knew Deathwing was chilling at Deepholm within the Elemental Planes (which could be found in the maelstrom between the continents of Kalimdor and the Eastern Kingdoms).
These were two known locations to Varrus that for lack of a better phrase, the ''mapping software¡¯ of Clairvoyance could find.
However, when it came to an undefined quantity, such as an assassin, or pile of ore, Clairvoyance would be about as useful as GPS in real life.
That is to say, not very useful at all.
However, should he come to learn of the identity of the assassin and their general area, or the location of the ore, he could then use Clairvoyance to track them down at any time.
Much like how the government tracks the location of every cellphone, Varrus would then be able to track other people/things, so long as they were a known quantity. As it stood, Clairvoyance was a spell highly dependent on places rather than people or objects.
Clairvoyance was also useful in finding specific quest objectives.
His quest log was full to the brim due to all sorts of rumors and random gossip he had picked up.
Using his first three quests as an example showcased the limitations of the spell.
- [Survive the Scourge Invasion of Silvermoon]
- [Remember the Sunwell!: repair the Sunwell 0/999,999,999 mana]
- [Retake Silvermoon: 19,222/20,000 Undead slain]
For quest 1, Clairvoyance would not take Varrus anywhere specific.
In quest 2, Clairvoyance would take Varrus to the ruins of the Sunwell, but it would not tell Varrus how he was to repair the Sunwell.
Finally, in quest 3, the specific quest text further detailed that the Undead resided within a place, Silvermoon. Clairvoyance would lead Varrus to a general area where the Undead would be, much like how a GPS could take you to a store, but finding parking would be up to the driver.
However, if he had a more specific quest such as [Kill Halduron Brightwing 0/1] then and only then would Clairvoyance direct Varrus straight to his mark.
In conclusion, Clairvoyance was a useful spell, but one ultimately held back by its GPS-like limitations.
That meant that Varrus would have to continue his investigation into the assassin the old fashioned way with the amulets.
Summoning the enchanting table thanks to the Alteration spell Fabricate Object, Varrus got to disenchanting the item.
When he saw the item description in his inventory, it was a Plague God''s Necklace, and it had only one affect: [Slowly transforms the bearer into an Afflicted]
Upon reading the text description, Varrus almost dropped it, and hissed as he held up the evil object.
He didn''t know exactly what an Afflicted was, and he didn''t want to find out. Thankfully, he noticed no change in his status, and it appeared that holding on to the necklace was harmless enough. However, he wouldn''t dare place it around his neck!
Quickly disenchanting it, Varrus then made 5 copies. He only trusted the Crossguard to hold onto these, and even then, he could never be too careful. If this plan was going to work, secrecy would be the mother to success.
There was an old saying his father used to say once he left the army/coast guard.
Loose lips sink ships.
Varrus intended to tell Syra, and his guards. Then when Kael arrived as the party was underway, and only then would Varrus inform his friend. Whilst he trusted Kael-despite his dubious recent bout with Fel corruption-he couldn''t risk operational security by informing even his best friend.
Stowing the 5 new amulets into his inventory, Varrus left his home to finally begin the long and tedious work of cleansing the Dead Scar.
It was boring, laborious work, but it had to get done.
Thinking of it positively, it was just one more action that he could hold over those damn smug Elves who looked down at him for his young age.
When he put it that way, it made hosing down this dank corrupted earth not seem like that much of a chore!
With a smile on his face, and a spring in his step, Varrus eagerly got to work with the thought of those smug pricks bending over backwards in an effort not to offend him!
As Syra had said as of late, nobody crosses a Vandercross!
Chapter 56
Four days had passed since Varrus had set the ball rolling and sent out his invitations.
It was four days of nonstop grinding for all the residents of Quel''Thalas.
Currently, Varrus was within his study during a rare moment of ¡®relaxation.¡¯ He was busy going over reports, and status updates regarding the other Convocation members assignments.
Papers were messily scattered across his giant desk, yet Varrus knew where every item was, and could easily locate any document if he was asked to find it. He was messy with his system, but there was a method to his madness.
Whilst he had papers, there were also a handful of scrying orbs cycling between live feeds of his workshops, and other parts of the city. Varrus didn''t focus on them much, but while he was within the confines of his study, he liked to get a glimpse of the outside world. As someone who spent most of his free time online, this was the closest he could get to mimicking that level of entertainment.
He had also enchanted some instruments, and they were playing some songs according to his memory.
Despite all that had happened to him, Varrus was still in awe of magic, and while he disparaged the Highborne for their vanity, he could only applaud them for their vast repertoire of QOL (quality of life) magic. As someone who couldn''t play the piano, being able to listen to play the Song of Storms, or Giorno''s Theme with magic was simply amazing.
But there were only so many ways Varrus could entertain himself. Because ultimately, he was a leader, and as the First Seat, he had to go over reports. Lots. And lots. Of reports.
Somehow, despite traveling to a fantasy world, Varrus turned into a middle manager. One that had to handle the needs of a bunch of stuck up, prissy people. People who called themselves the Highborne, and now the edgy moniker of Blood Elf. God, Varrus could slam his head into the table of papers in front of him!
¡®No no, think of Syra, think of the awesome magic you can learn! Just think, one day, if your Spell Power is great enough, you can Polymorph a Dragon into a newt! You can do this!¡¯ Varrus thought to himself, then began to take his job seriously. The safety of his entire race was at stake after all, there was no time to mope around.
First off, Telonicus and Tae''thelon were demanding a never ending stream of Mana Stones from Varrus to fuel their projects.
Whilst Varrus privately thought that they were skimming some from the top, he was fine with it as long as the Headmaster and the Royal Engineer could complete their tasks.
Tae''thelon had already reconnected a dozen teleportation pads, and Varrus could now use the pad in his residence to travel to the square in front of the Palace of the Sun, or Silvermoon''s front gates. These two locales were open to the public.
The other 9 pads were within private residences-much like Varrus¡¯ was-and could only be teleported to if a person on the other side accepted the transfer. It worked sort of like answering a phone or a door. The pad on the other side would receive an alert, and if no one answered, then it was locked out.
It was a little scummy that the political elite had access to the reinstated teleportation network first, but as much as Varrus hated it, he hated walking between both halves of the city more. Fuck commuting, he¡¯d rather teleport!
Telonicus was crafting the Rune Stones, but it was a labor intensive process. There were so few master inscribers in Silvermoon to begin with, so the Royal Engineer had to do it all himself. He then had to use formulae to decide where the best placement of the Rune Stone would be.
Apparently one could not simply plop a Rune Stone down willy nilly, or upon the site of a destroyed Rune Stone. Leylines were a thing in Warcraft, and the currents of mana were ever shifting, like the plate tectonics of Earth. This invasion by the Scourge spread Death energy all throughout the land, changing both the visual landscape, as well as the ethereal landscape.
As it stood, Telonicus was completing the construction of one Rune Stone a week~. By his estimates, he will need 50 to properly weaken the magic of any invading foe, but was aiming for 100 to create a safety net.
Personally, Varrus thought the engineer just wanted more Mana Stones to work with, and was still sour at Varrus¡¯ nonanswer over the Sunwell issue, but he couldn''t quite fault the man.
The Elves got fucked over during the Scourge invasion, and honestly, Varrus was tempted to tell Telonicus to craft 200 or even 500 Rune Stones if it was feasible. Toss those babies all throughout Azeroth, because frankly? Fuck the Legion, and to hell with Demons and the Old Gods.
The super team of Liadran, Thaladred and Koren had already set off to relieve the fortress town of Tranquillien. Varrus had checked each of them out with the Amulet of the Plague God, but they each came out clean.
Once he had that confirmation, he set them up with enchanted gear for their troops, and gifted each of them a necklace with a Greater Soul Gem empowering it. Reports were few and far between, but from what Varrus could gather, the fighting was fierce. Thousands of civilians had been evacuated, yet the three Heroes wanted to hold on to the city.
From what news he did receive, it would seem that the enemy numbered at least in the tens of thousands, if not up there in the hundreds of thousands. Their only blessing was that the millions of Scourge zombies were still in Human lands, and that the Burning Legion had set off for Kalimdor.
Thanks to a tip from Lor''Themar¡¯s rangers, Varrus had learnt of Archimonde''s departure, and had sighed in relief as the figurative Devil''s right hand man set off to combat his hated foes across the sea, the Night Elves.
So while he didn''t have to worry about the threat of the Legion for the time being, that didn''t mean Varrus was pleased with Liadran¡¯s decision to remain in Tranquillien.
He was worried that they would eventually be overwhelmed by superior numbers. Because even Varrus, with his Master tier Destruction spells wouldn''t want to face off against a million or more Undead with <1,000 troops at his disposal. Varrus was strong, but he wasn''t demi-god strong!
Because even with the help of his Master tier spells, he barely took down Kith''ix. A demi-god that had a botched summoning, one that took the combined attacks of almost every Elven Hero.
Now Varrus wasn''t aware of any demi-god tier opponents in the Scourge''s ranks. But the demonic Dreadlords that commanded the local Scourge forces were cunning saboteurs, and resourceful tacticians. Furthermore, if any could possibly be strong enough to match the title of demi-god, it would perhaps be the Lich, Kel¡¯Thuzad.
Kel¡¯Thuzad was raised into undeath by corrupting the Sunwell, and using its nigh limitless power was raised as the Lich King''s most ruthless operator.
Varrus would be a fool to sleep on this talented necromancer¡¯s power, his cunning or the might of millions. Quantity was a quality of its own. Countless times throughout history, larger forces of under equipped men have overthrown better disciplined, better equipped forces. If Rome could fall to barbarians, China/Rus fall to nomad horseman, etc, then even Varrus, with all his power, could lose to overwhelming numbers. Especially when those numbers are backed up by Undead Elven archmages, and the greatest Human Heroes to have fallen into undeath.
No, Varrus had experienced the price of arrogance when he almost had his head bit off by the lynx Loa at the battle of the beach.
He only hoped that Liadran and company could emerge from Tranquillien unscathed. That they might learn from the dangers of compassion, and temper their hearts towards the crusties of war. Varrus admired Liadran for her spirit, and hoped she would continue to act in the good of all people, but such a nature must also be paired with the wisdom of maturity.
Whilst Tranquillien was being reinforced, and the first Rune Stone had been set up in that town to reduce the powers of the Scourge, Varrus had directed the Knights of the Hawk to drop off Mana Stones all throughout the land.
Villages, hamlets, and those few towns that escaped the ravages of war were in desperate need of the crystals. If they went much longer without them, Varrus feared that they would transform into the disgusting gremlins known as the Wretched.
Lastly, Lor''Themar had established contact with Garithos. The self-appointed leader of the Alliance was canonically racist towards all Elves, and would have executed Kael¡¯Thas, along with the Sunfury for the crime of working together with Naga.
Now Varrus could get behind hating on the Naga for the simple fact that they were worshippers of the Old Gods. However, Garithos was a hypocrite who would later ally with a faction of Undead who broke their mental chains known as the Forsaken.
Varrus didn''t like Garithos, but that didn''t mean he couldn''t use the pompous prick as a meat shield.
Saving Quel''Thalas was Varrus''s number one priority, and to that end, they were going to send a shipment of supplies to the beleaguered Humans. Varrus was going to forge them iron arms & armor, and was considering paying the front lines a visit too.
If he could find a way to install someone pro-Elven as the leader of the Humans, that would go a long way towards Varrus''s ultimate goal of creating a new cross-species faction. He had some ideas regarding his new Illusion spells, but that would have to wait until he saw the situation on the ground.
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Only by becoming the leaders of a faction could Quel''Thalas determine its own destiny.
To that end, he would have to pay Sunsail Anchorage a visit, and speak with the Admiral in charge of the Elven fleet to see what supplies were being sent out. Depending on Kael''s time table clearing out Eversong, Varrus might take some covert actions in the Human lands to bolster their strength, as well as win them over to the Elven cause.
However, Varrus was incredibly busy at home, between purging the land, and forging bricks and equipment, he had little free time. But if he could plant the seeds of a new organization loyal to Quel''Thalas early, then that could only benefit him in the long term.
Besides the tasks set for the rest of the members of the Convocation, Varrus also had much to do on his own.
Varrus had been hard at work completing innumerable mini missions that ate away at his time. Besides clearing out the plague infected, cursed land known as the Dead Scar, he had volunteered himself to supply the army with weapons and armor.
Since his Smithing skill was so high, and he could forge gear within seconds of acquiring the materials necessary to forge them, Varrus had become a one man factory.
Whilst he wouldn''t be taking part in the trials and challenges that the Sunfury would be undertaking, that didn''t mean he couldn''t support them from home.
Like the hardworking men and women who worked themselves to exhaustion in the factories during WW2, Varrus knew that his supply of arms and armor could make all the difference for this relatively small force.
The Sunfury were almost completely finished in their preparations, and were chomping at the bit to enact their revenge. Kael''thas had personally tutored the mages, and his chief guard, Knight-Lord Dranarus recruited hundreds into the Elite guard of Spellbreakers, bolstering the Prince¡¯s ranks.
A parade was to be held the day after the banquet, two days from now, in which the city would send off their soldiers to war.
It was during that momentous event that Varrus planned on gifting 500 mithril weapons enhanced by his increased Smithing skill, 200 sets of enchanted mithril armor, and 30 sets of thorium armor.
Interestingly enough, moonstone was a semi-common product found in both Skyrim and Warcraft. It was a critical material used in forging glass armor. Varrus used the somewhat rare material to craft 3,200 sets of glass armor.
Whilst the name left much to be desired, the defense to weight ratio was perfect for the average Elf.
The armor was tough. An entire set of glass armor came with an armor rating of 100. Mithril armor had a rating of 250. Lastly, Thorium armor had a rating of 420. For reference, an entire set of Daedric armor (the best armor type in Skyrim) had a rating of about 580.
And that was simply the base stats. With the following perks, each set of armor was modified further:
Smithing Mastery (2) - All items can be improved 20% more.
Meric Smithing- Double the weapon dmg/armor rating of Elven equipment. (Anything designed to look Elvish.)
Expert Smithing- Double the weapon dmg/armor rating of all equipment.
Exotic Smithing- Double the weapon dmg/armor rating of armor made from exotic ores such as (adamantium, titanium, ghost iron, saronite, etc)
Advanced Workshop - You may choose to upgrade one grindstone or workbench to an Advanced version for 2500 gold. It improves items one tier higher (items can be improved beyond Legendary). Adding a flat 200 armor or 100 damage to a piece of equipment.
Taking a set of glass armor as an example, the base set was 100. The perks applied their buffs in the order that they were presented. A 10% increase equaled 110 armor. That figure was then doubled, and doubled again thanks to Meric Smithing and Expert Smithing leading to 440 armor score! Finally, Advanced Workshop added on 200, meaning that every set of glass armor Varrus crafted would have a total of 640!
A quick comparison of the modified armor values went like so:
Iron: 552
Glass: 640
Mythril: 1,300
Thorium: 2,048
On paper, all these numbers didn''t mean much, but after thoroughly testing them himself and with his guards, Varrus developed a loose system. It was one where each new tier was heavily resistant if not immune to the weaknesses of the tier below it.
Armor Rating:
S = 1,301-2,048 resistant up to 4 of Lor''Themar¡¯s magic arrows/4 of Varrus¡¯s Expert spells
A = 901-1,300 weak to two attacks from a Hero¡¯s magic arrow/spell/Syra¡¯s sword
B = 601-900 weak to an Elite¡¯s magic arrow/cannon fire/spell
C = 401-600 weak to standard magic fireballs/average magic
D = 201-400 weak to standard magic arrows/musket shot
F = 0-200 weak to standard arrows from a longbow
There were a few things Varrus could glean from this information. 1) Thorium and Mythril were OP. 2) Glass armor could hold up under a few crushing stomps from a golem, if he had a Dwarven cannon, Varrus would love to see how it held up! And 3) Iron armor could tank some magic arrows from Elven Regulars. In effect, he had made bullet resistant/proof armor with mere iron thanks to the Skyrim perks!
Thorium, when worked in Varrus¡¯s hands became an OP substance fit for Heroes. It was such a rare material, it was a shame that he could only craft 30 sets. The Elites who donned that gear would practically become immortal. The only thing stopping them would be if they got done in by an enemy Hero, or got cocky and taken out by a trap/superior numbers.
If Thorium was this amazing, he could only imagine how powerful adamantium was. That truly was the metal fit to contain the powers of a demi-god.
Besides the serious implications of this OP armor, there was some humor in their design. Due to the color of the ore used to craft the gear, the armor was not the typical red and gold that the Highborn seemed to favor.
The glass armor was emerald green, the mithril was an umbra-blue, and the thorium armor was crimson with gold highlights in traditional Blood Elven colors.
Glass Armor:
Mythril Armor (without N-Elf helmet/glave):
Thorium:
Although in Varrus¡¯ opinion, he quite liked the distinction between sets. Only the bravest and most skilled warriors and paladins should be wearing thorium, so that as they killed more of the enemy, their heroism would stand out, and morale would skyrocket. However, the dual edged sword of marking out your Elite with easily identifiable/seperate colors was that they could become targets for the enemy Champions. And should the Elite in the army fall, then morale would crumble, and the line would snap like a pencil in a child''s hand.
In the end, however, Varrus thought it was worth it to have those with the best armor standout. Besides, the smug Elves were going to smug, even on campaign. He was certain that the lucky few who wore thorium armor would brag to high heaven about the superiority of their gear.
When Varrus got the chance, he should have Kael introduce a merit system. One in which new weapons/armor would be distributed to the worthy, and that those who failed their comrades would have their gear assigned to someone else.
But that notion predicated entirely on the premise that Varrus had the supplies to craft them some gear.
The supplies that Varrus could get his hands on-the ones required to forge quality gear at least-were quite limited.
He wouldn''t mind equipping them with iron armor, as a base set came up to 80, with an enhanced set resting at 552. However, it was 4x heavier than glass armor, and he could only imagine the protest of wearing iron armor.
Damned smug Elves wouldn''t deign to wear something fit only for a Human. The prissy race of sissy''s had to look pretty whilst conducting war. Lord forbid that they actually had to sweat during it as well.
In a way, Varrus could empathize. In games, his character often wore impractical gear, or even wore a set with less armor because it looked cool. Who didn''t want to style on the enemy? But this was no game. Mages and priests weren''t literally bound to their robes, and could even wield swords and bows if the occasion called for it. But oh no, wearing a set of heavy armor-heavy armor that made one immune to the damage any basic Undead zombie could dish out-was too much for them!
Besides, there could be an argument to be made as to why an Elf would prefer the glass armor besides it being more aesthetically pleasing to the eye. Elves in general were physically weaker than their Human counterparts, but their agility, grace, and nimbleness was superior. By minimizing the weight by 4x, wearing glass armor was almost like wearing nothing at all in comparison.
Afterall, it was the swift nature of Elven attacks that made them so deadly. If they lost that, then an overencumbered Elf would hardly be any use on the battlefield. Sure they were more secure in iron armor, but most people would agree, it would be better to wear no armor, and never get hit, then to wear armor, and be forced to take a hit.
So while he hated on his own people quite often, this was one case where he could let it slide. Where that that iron armor would truly shine, would be a more muscular race, such as the Trolls, Orcs, or Tauren. In the end, Varrus decided to settle on pimping out the Humans with high tier ¡®trash¡¯ gear as one of his many plans to win them over to his side.
¡°Ahem, Highlord, you wanted me to remind you. It is time.¡± Rho''dan said from the entrance to the office, then strode away.
Varrus cracked a smile, it was time to get out of this stuffy office, and cleanse the land once more.
Fortunately, his wife had been so supportive of him this entire time. When he was walking by the kitchen earlier, he saw Syra preparing a picnic basket. She had recovered well enough after their escapades, and had gotten right back to treating Varrus with her typical standoffish, yet clingy self. Syra truly was a cat scratch-snuggle away from plucking/hugging him to death!
As for lunch, it was simple fair-nothing more than bread, cheese, lettuce, tomato, chicken and mayonnaise, but it was the thought that counted. Someone cared enough about him to go out of their way, waste their time, and make him a good meal. Anyone would appreciate someone like this.
Especially when that someone was a psycho killer that would pluck out his eyeballs if he ate anyone else¡¯s cooking. It really set things into perspective just how loved he was.
It didn''t matter if he was an Elf now, or that his wife was madly in love. He still had that simple caveman mind at the back of his head, and he wholeheartedly believed that the way to a man''s heart was through his stomach.
And boy could she cook! Somehow, that simple fair had transformed into the best damned sandwich of his life! Say what you want about Elves, but they had perfected the path to hedonism!
Varrus smacked his lips, and strode out of his office with a positive stride in his step.
Dealing with monotonous reports, and plotting against the enemies of his people paled in comparison to the smile on his wife''s face (or the hunger in his belly).
What was the power to command the fate of hundreds when Syra willingly, and gladly gave him her everything?
What was the hatred and scorn of others when he was so loved at home?
Varrus would sign a thousand documents, and burn his eyes reading scrolls long into the night so long as he could hear her laugh.
What could he say? He was in love!
Chapter 57
Under the rays of the midday sun, Varrus had set off with Syra to find the perfect picnic spot.
Riding upon the back of a hawkstrider, Varrus was side by side with Syra, admiring the city.
Elves were hard at work, tearing down damaged structures, and carting off rubble. It was amusing to see them constantly casting cleansing spells upon one another as dirt and grime accumulated underneath their fingernails, and sweat coated their brow.
Varrus had been used as free labor from his dad back on Earth enough times-digging holes, laying bricks, climbing ladders, etc-that he found the constant fussing over a little dirt to be endlessly amusing.
The perfect, ever handsome movie star-looking Elves were burning through their Mana Stones to look pretty.
Good lord, this city was never going to be rebuilt if it was done by these hands!
The House architect saw Varrus riding by, and gave him a curt nod. He then chanted a spell, and a nearby pile of Vanderbricks? magically levitated upward, and began to stack upon one another in swift order. A special blue, magical past had been spread across each brick as they flew off the pallet, acting as the adhesive binding them together.
Varrus could only hold the reins to his hawkstrider a little tighter in shocked surprise as he saw this display of magic.
To the average Earthling, this would be something special considering most construction projects could take months, if not years to complete. Ultimately, however, it would be expected, because this was a world based upon fantasy.
However, what Varrus saw was more than just a brick wall. His vision had him imagine the sheer potential of this technique. Where the average man saw a simple pile of bricks, Varrus saw a fortress, a bunker built in an instant! It may be a QOL spell disdained by most mages, but architectural spells were low-key OP, and were heavily slept on!
When he had a chance, Varrus would have to study up on this technique. Because anyway he could build a fallout shelter mid battle, then that would be one more defensive weapon to wield against his enemies.
For example, what was the one thing that survived nuclear blasts time and time again?
That''s right.
Brick!
Varrus had been thinking small time. Hurl a magically enchanted, legendary tier brick with telekinesis? Child''s play!
Building a dozen bunkers, or even a fortress deep within enemy territory? Just like the Romans of old? That was a man¡¯s romance!
Suddenly Varrus¡¯s tower defense aspirations were becoming ever clearer. He felt like a kid discovering Lego for the first time!
The only thing missing from this turret defense plan was a turret, and Varrus had just the thing in mind.
The Skyrim creation, Dwarven Autocannon was one of the perks he unlocked from the Smithing skill tree. But it wasn''t until he witnessed his House architect that he found a use for it.
A single brick resisted Helios¡¯s all out attack, suffering significant, yet not critical damage. Based upon the armor rating system he had developed earlier, these bricks were B tier, or equivalent to glass armor in strength!
This feat proved that the Vanderbrick? was rated E for Elite resistant. He was curious how a heavy set structure, or thick wall would hold up against a Hero. This would require more testing.
¡°Cute.¡± Syra said from her hawkstrider, and flashed Varrus a smile.
Blinking his eyes, Varrus realized he had gone into the deep end of a nerd-out for the hundredth time, and returned Syra¡¯s smile sheepishly.
¡°Sorry, I was just thinking about tower defense, I doubt you would be interested. Besides, today is a rest day before the big party tomorrow. Let us enjoy our time together.¡± Varrus said as he shoved those thoughts of tower defense to the side.
¡°Tell me about it. I want to know everything about you, Varrus.¡± Syra said with a hint of obsession.
Varrus squinted his eyes to see if he was being pranked. Because if she was serious, then talking about his love for tower defense would be like introducing a girlfriend to WoW, DND, MTG or any dozen other nerd related activities.
He had known a cute girl who liked LOTR Online back on Earth, but he stupidly told her he only played WoW¡well, he was married to Syra now, so he was already a taken man, but she didn''t exactly seem like the nerdy type when examined on the surface.
Then again, she did know a shit ton of herbs, and their uses. His beautiful murderess wife was more than a meat headed Amazoness, no matter what the absolute manslayer strapped to her back would lead one to believe.
She was brawn, brains, and crazy! Just the way Varrus liked it!
If he could corrupt her to the darkside, perhaps he might be able to force Rho''dan to join them for game night!
¡®Alright, play it cool Varrus, you don¡¯t want to scare her off. Just imagine her naked-no, no, just don¡¯t fuck it up!¡¯
Varrus took a deep breath, gave her a thumbs up and tried to keep it cool.
¡°...if you say so! So tower defense is just like the Arcane Tower we have back at home. I have a new cannon I haven''t tested out yet, one that can automatically attack enemies, like the golems that patrol Silvermoon. When I saw the architect seamlessly construct a wall from that pallet of bricks, I was inspired to build towers and defensive emplacements all over the country!¡± Varrus said hurriedly, and in great excitement.
Seeing Syra look at her with a seemingly perplexed expression, he felt like he was explaining how to use Microsoft Word to his tech illiterate parents. Varrus opened his mouth to explain more, but she placed a finger on his lips.
¡°I think I''ve got it. These turrets you were describing would automatically lock onto our enemies, and kill any dissenters who would oppose my brilliant husband''s rule?¡± Syra said with stars in her eyes.
¡°Well, yes, but no.¡± Varrus weakly muttered, almost inaudibly, as he didn''t really think about using these towers as tools of oppression, and more as a means for security. But when she put it like that, Syra wasn''t exactly wrong, now was she?
¡°Oooo, you said it was untested? Let''s go play at the Dead Scar, and find some targets! Come on, there''s no time to lose!¡± Syra shoved Varrus on the shoulder, then whipped the reins to her hawkstrider, taking off at a dizzying pace.
Varrus felt almost discombobulated from the sudden burst of energy coming from Syra. She was waay more enthusiastic about this new weapon than even he was! And what was this talk of playing at the Dead Scar?!
Shaking his head in exasperation at Syra''s spontaneity, Varrus followed suit, and whipped the reins on his hawkstrider so he wouldn''t fall too far behind.
¡°Kooargh!¡± His hawkstrider cried back, and chased after Syra.
Syra grinned back at him, and winked in challenge.
Varrus rolled his eyes, but blew her a kiss, and pressed his mount to go ever faster, accepting the impromptu race.
¡°Ouaargh!¡± Syra''s hawkstrider screeched in a high pitched croak only a bird could as she too began to increase in speed.
Coming across uneven pavement, and broken glass, Varrus had to maneuver his ride to the left, only to immediately pull it to the right as a group of laborers jumped out of the way.
The way they looked at him and Syra screamed ¡®slow down you crazy kids.¡¯ But Varrus only caught a glimpse of them before all they were left in his dust.
He was slightly embarrassed, but Syra¡¯s taunting smile, and graceful flowing blonde hair were much more important to him than some old men on the side of the road.
This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.
The way the sun shimmered off her supple skin, he felt goosebumps rise up his arm as he recalled just how soft she was, like a model from a lotion commercial, only better.
Her competitive spirit, and radiant positivity brought out a peele of innocent laughter from him.
Taking a deep breath, Varrus took in the moment, and exhaled as he felt the stress leave him. He had been busy plotting the demise of the traitors the last few days, and it had been eating up at him on the inside as he thought about the most efficient way to nab them. At the same time, he apparently had to plan an actual party, but thankfully he had an awesome wife and guard to rely upon for ideas. The point was, tomorrow would be a big day, one in which 98% of all internal division would be taken care of. Once that was accomplished, he would feel free to hand out the gear to the Sunfury.
Betrayal from Kael or his army, while possible, wasn''t something overly concerning to Varrus. They were hellbent on getting revenge upon the Undead, and would focus all their efforts to that end for quite some time.
Varrus would make sure to loudly brag about his masterworked armor at the party, but at the same time, demonstrate one of his Master tier Destruction spells on a set of thorium armor to let the people know that he could make a set of thorium for every Elf in the city, but it wouldn''t stop him from nuking them off the face of the planet.
He had made some sets for his most loyal guardsman, but they numbered in the hundreds at best, which wasn''t very impressive compared to the 15,000-30,000+ sized army Kael had mustered. The only difference maker was in the quality of enchantments. All his people received Common or Greater Soul Gems for their enchantments. In contrast, the Sunfury received Petty, Lesser, and Common.
Betrayal was always a possibility, but if he couldn''t even place a little faith in his best friend, then he might as well turtle up in a cave like it was a game of Warsong Gulch, and farm levels nonstop for years. However, he wasn¡¯t a xianxia cultivator, and that wasn¡¯t living. Besides, he was the key to the general population¡¯s mana control. The chances of the rank and file Elf turning on him was close to zero. Only those outlier cultists, and the 1% who hated him beyond reason were of any threat.
Whilst he was thinking about the stresses of tomorrow, Syra once more brightened his day.
¡°Hurry up! Loser has to massage the others back!¡± Syra added some stakes to the race, upping the ante.
¡®Jokes on you, I¡¯m into that shit.¡¯ Varrus smugly thought to himself as he eyed her lithe, yet athletic form.
Slowing down just a hair so that he could admire the moment, and let his wife have the W-not that he had a chance to win against her head start unless he cheated with magic-but despite such a short time, marked restoration to Silvermoon was underway.
Along the way, Varrus took note of just how clean the city felt. Whilst there was still a huge amount of destruction, and rubble lined the streets such that it resembled Berlin after the Soviets had made a visit during WW2, the air didn''t have the taste of death, or the pungent odor of decay. The closest Earth event Varrus could relate it to, would be if someone found a way to completely remove the radiation at Chernobyl overnight. The change was simply remarkable.
Over the last four days, he had purged a large quantity of the city, averaging 5 miles a day. He estimated he should be done cleansing the Dead Scar within one or two more weeks, then he could begin work on the isle of Quel''Danas, and the rest of the kingdom.
Of course, he also planned to blast the non-corrupted land too. Just because he couldn''t see the plague with the naked eye, didn''t mean some critter, or Old God voidspawn wasn''t lurking about. There was no kill quite like overkill after all.
As he was musing about his achievement, and future plan, Varrus came upon one of the remaining sections of the Dead Scar within Silvermoon.
Crawling out of the blackened earth, a dozen generic looking, stumbling zombies were being toyed with by his wife.
Dressed in her safari outfit, Syra looked somewhat comical lugging that giant fantasy sword of her around as she danced around them, and pushed them back with the flat of her blade.
¡°I win! Now show me how strong your cannon is!¡± Syra said cheerily.
Varrus placed a hand on his forehead as he was certain the double entendre went right over her head. She was clever, ruthless, and wicked with a blade, but surprisingly innocent. Most dirty jokes went right over her head.
¡°Say hello to my little friend.¡± Varrus said in a faux Italian accent, then plopped down a Dwarven Autocannon.
The Autocannon was similar in shape and appearance to the Pixar lamp, and was very much unlike a traditional cannon in appearance. Standing vertically on a tripod/circular base, the so-called cannon resembled a turret more than anything else.
As demonstrated by previous experiments, Varrus could make any Skyrim design with any metal, and for the Autocannon, he chose iron due to its availability. The big difference between using iron and thorium was the capacity. Iron cannons contained a ¡®magazine size¡¯ of 250 shots, whereas thorium allowed for 3,000 shots before it needed to be recharged. Fortunately, they should be topped up with Mana Stones, so Varrus wasn''t too worried about the difference in materials.
Due to the Dwarven Autocannon perk, it dealt 40% of his Smithing skill as damage. So, every attack was worth 40pts. That wasn''t exactly stellar dps, but it was enough to take out any unarmored Human in one hit. Any Elite, or even Regular soldier in heavy armor should be able to block this. In effect, it had the power of a basic firebolt spell.
However, there were a few other perks that modified its damage even further:
Electrobolt (2) - Every fifth Dwarven Autocannon shot is an electromagnetic blast that moves slower than a regular shell but deals shock damage to Health and Magicka equal to 80/240% of your Smithing skill level.
Remote Control - Your Dwarven Autocannon now fires regardless of the distance between it and you.
Spin Up - Your Dwarven Autocannon gradually shoots faster over time, gaining 2% firing speed per shot, up to 200%.
¡°This is your cannon?¡± Syra said in unconcealed disappointment.
¡°It looks different¡but it can still get the job done. Watch it go to work!¡± Varrus defended, then waited for the cannon''s automatic defense feature to kick in.
Syra saw a fireball leave the barrel of the cannon, and backflipped out of the way, and skidded next to Varrus.
Taking him in a hug from behind, she placed her chin on his shoulder, happy to support her husband with his experiments.
Varrus spared her a quick kiss on the cheek, then turned his attention back to the action.
The slobbering zombies had chased after Syra, eager to taste on her flesh.
However, they were met with the fury and destruction of an exploding fireball.
Falling to flame and turning to ash, Varrus got a lot of information from this brief encounter.
The fireball was an AOE attack of about 5ft of splash damage.
Shooting at a rate of 1 fireball every 5 seconds, the fire rate was significantly faster than a traditional cannon, and only slightly faster than the Arcane Cannons Telonicus had invented. He was curious to see what kind of cannons the Dwarves could make using the power of runic inscriptions, but that could wait for another time.
With the Spin Up perk, this 5 second interval was reduced to 1 fireball every 2.5 seconds. Meaning that whilst the damage was lackluster, where the Autocannon really excelled was its machine gun-like fire rate.
That meant an iron forged Autocannon with a capacity of 250 mana could theoretically blow its entire load in 100 seconds, or a little more than a minute and a half.
In conclusion, it was a useful weapon, but not game breaking, like the enchantments, or to a lesser extent, the pimped out armor.
He would certainly find time to produce a few hundred to place as sentry turrets, and if he had enough raw materials, he could spam them in the hundreds or thousands, and create a true tower defense grid.
If anything, he should learn how to craft golems, bunkers, and other construction related magic now that he had already mastered the Arcane arts of Brick!
The only issue he faced was what made or broke every nation, supplies. Once he was done cleaning up Silvermoon, and sent Kael off to war, he had to pay the Kobolds a visit.
If he was going to realize his dream of an autonomous fighting force, then creating a supply line was #1.
¡°You look sad. Did I bait them incorrectly?¡± Syra picked up on Varrus¡¯s melancholy at his unrealized dream, and said with some worry.
¡°No Syra, you did wonderfully as always. I¡¯m simply disappointed in the weakness of these turrets.¡± Varrus said glumly, kicking some loose dirt with his boot.
¡°They are not weak, Varrus. I want you to feel something, to let you know how I feel about this.¡± Syra approached Varrus, and lifted his arm, placing his hand over her heart.
Varrus raised an eyebrow in confusion at her seemingly random actions.
¡°You feel that rapid pulse? That''s excitement. It doesn''t matter how weak, or how practical this invention of yours looks. It is your invention. I am proud of you, Varrus.¡± Syra then clunked her forehead into his, and stared lovingly into his eyes.
¡°Heh, you know what? You¡¯re right! So what if it can¡¯t blast apart an Infernal in one hit! They¡¯re still viable! Thank you Syra, for helping me see that.¡±
¡°It¡¯s what I do.¡± Syra playfully booped Varrus on the nose, and winked.
Varrus messily rubbed her hair, and pulled her in for a hug. Closing his eyes, all was peaceful, until he heard her stomach grumble.
¡°Pfft, hahaha!¡± Varrus pulled back, and laughed.
When he saw the small glare she sent his way, he only laughed harder.
¡°Oh Varrus~ here¡¯s an extra helping of bread!¡± Syra moved like lightning, force feeding a sandwich into Varrus¡¯s laughing face.
Varrus blinked in surprise as tomato and mustard coated his cheeks when the soft bread missed his mouth, and fell apart on his chin.
Scowling at her with a surly pose, it was Syra¡¯s turn to point at him, and laugh uproariously.
Varrus wanted to be mad, but her bell-like laughter was music to his ears, melting any snap-rage like icy fjords meeting spring.
Instead, he pounced on his wife, and rubbed his condiment covered face on hers, smearing mustard everywhere.
Syra stopped laughing for a second in shock, then as Varrus laughed, she laughed with him.
Days like today were important, because war would soon be on the horizon.
Chapter 58
It was the day of the Vandercross Gala, and despite the horrors this city had witnessed, the weather was idylic, and the people were in high spirits.
Clouds colored the sky like sorbet as the last hour before dusk arrived. Pink with a hint of orange light scattered down, cascading off of recently reconstructed buildings.
Translucent blue Mana Stones lined the street leading up to the Vandercross Estate. When the orange rays intermingled and refracted within the crystalline structure, producing a heady orange glow reminiscent of the endless bathing light of the Sunwell.
This faux reminiscence of what was, cast a melancholic, and strong sense of longing amongst the passerbys.
Many party goers could not help themselves, and would feed upon the Mana Stones before they even reached the estate. The strong emotion evoked by this once familiar, ever present sensation trumped any sense of pride, as their mana addictions trumped reason.
As the guests made their approach, many of them had taken coaches. Pulled by hawkstriders, the wealthy of Silvermoon had bred these birds of labor or war to contain exotic coloring, or unique plumage. Richly decorated in Dragon whelp leather, and other exotic materials, these coaches carried the social elite of Elven society, and their hangers on.
The Vandercross Gala had swiftly become the talk of the town. Where the Sunfury had been praised, and the people were slowly picking themselves up from the horrors of war, not a soul had remained ignorant of this event.
Gossip had become like currency between the Highborn. Where speculation became a certainty, and rumor had become fact.
According to the rumor mill, Prince Kael¡¯Thas would take this opportunity to find a wife. That the Convocation were in peace talks with the Scourge, or that Vandercross had an affair with Farstrider Commander Halduron Brightwing. Which Vandercross? Figuring that one out was all part of the fun.
Each supposition had become more fantastical than the last, only further driving interest in the spectacle of it all.
Most guests were dressed in fine flowing robes of orange, red or gold, in the traditional colors of Silvermoon. The norm for masks fit a theme based upon an Elves¡¯ accomplishments or craft.
Priests, for example, often wore white, with gold highlights on their robes, and wore masks depicting joy, healing, and various ways to show the sun. The more devout amongst them had an aura of holiness surrounding their bodies that would leave those within their presence feeling the warmth of a blanket on a cold winter''s day, smell the taste of vanilla spring on the air,
Mages flaunted their mastery of the Arcane by showcasing masks specific to their study. One mage''s mask was an hourglass signifying time. Another''s mask rapidly changed between lifelike beasts to other intelligent humanoids like goblins showing their mastery over the subject of polymorphism. This eclectic bunch seemed to try to outdo one another more than any other caste amongst the Highborn. Their pride in the study of magic that they majored in saw the mages quickly enter heated arguments amongst themselves. From a layman''s perspective, it would be like watching the physics department, and the chemistry department arguing over budget issues/who is more valuable to society.
Moving on, a warrior could often be seen wearing a mask depicting the face of a demon, a monster, or in a grotesque fashion, of a Troll they had slain in battle. As those who pursued the pinnacle of martial arts, they were disdained by the magicians and crafters within society. Instead of conforming to the mystery of the Arcane, or the grace of the Light, they settled for brutality. To showcase their skills in the most raw form of expression-violence-was the height of their craft. As a result, the faces of fallen enemies stood as a symbol of defiance against the holier than thou priests, and the fanatically dogmatic mages set in their discipline. Of course, the warriors were united against all other castes, yet haughty amongst themselves all the same. Old grudges and the scars of duels long past ran raw amongst this glory hungry crowd. A subdued bloodlust couched in a shroud of cultured superiority emanated from them like the stench of a businessman wearing a heavy dose of cologne.
The rangers were the last amongst the martially inclined castes of Quel''Thalas. Unlike the other groups, they possessed some humility. The masks they donned often depicted their animal companions. Although, many of the Highborn rangers could be better described as arcane archers, rather than as beast masters, and their masks were of simple design, yet had holes punctured in them. Each hole represented 1,000 kills. Unsurprisingly, it was rather obvious which Elf was the Ranger General. One simply needed to see the ranger with the most holes on their mask, and could quite clearly see half of Lor''Themar¡¯s face beneath the one most riddled with kill counts.
Needless to say, a gathering of the social elite of Silvermoon was not as harmonious as one might first believe.
Words, etiquette, or even something as basic as the smile upon one''s face. They all served as garnish, as the veneer of civility amongst the cream of the crop in a society of immortal Elves.
To succeed to the level where even other immortal beings had no choice but to follow, that marked these few elites out as truly exceptional individuals.
Family name, money, connections? They could only get one so far in life where the most talented of Elves could accomplish the impossible.
Heroic priests regrew limbs, and cured mental corruption. Their chants, and fierce devotion could summon nigh unbreakable chains, shields, hammers and more. Morseso, they held a powerful belief in the Sun itself, and could call upon solar infused Light magic to smite their foes as good as any mage.
Heroic warriors moved fast like an arrow, their mana fueled bodies cushioned attacks, and enhanced the sharpness of their blades. Familiar with some magic, their ability to perform short ranged teleportations with the spell Blink transformed them into absolute monsters.
Heroic rangers could go into camouflage, becoming undetectable by most means of scrying. Their rate of fire and precision with a bow was otherworldly. Some focused on the penetration of their arrows, or sharing mana between their beast companions to create monsters. Whilst they were the most common class amongst Heroes in Elven society, they tended to be the most independently minded thinkers. Lor''Themar was a premier example of this thought process. Where all other Elves were showing off their knowledge, or achievements, most rangers huddled together, and reminisced about shared times of struggle.
The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
Heroic mages bent time, warping the speed of enemy attacks, or enhancing the speed of their own. Imagine seeing a car driving towards a pedestrian at 25mph from 4 houses away. Most fit people could dodge that if given enough effort. If it suddenly accelerated to 120mph in 1.5 seconds? No one is dodging that. This sudden shift in speed was precisely the danger of an Elven time mage. This was but one school of magic amongst many under the study of the Arcane. The vast repertoire of knowledge an Archmage was privy to made each and every one of them a national treasure with an ego to match.
It was to such a clusterfuck of competing egos and constant sleighting barbs that Varrus found himself host to. Fortunately, they hadn¡¯t devolved into violence, and Varrus planned on staying away from those self-important twats as much as possible.
Standing at the front entrance to his estate, Varrus only now begrudged the fact that he had decided to host a ball, as well as a masked one at that!
For one, he didn''t care for most parties, as crowds and tons of noise pollution weren''t his idea of a good time. Fortunately, Elves had such big ears, that most of them spoke softly. The only thing drowning out the chatter was the music coming from enchanted instruments.
Secondly, Varrus felt like an idiot wearing a half sun mask that covered the upper half of his face, leaving his chin exposed.
The only solace to holding this event was that his plan to capture the cultists amongst the upper echelon was going well.
By standing at the entrance, he was forced to greet everyone with a fake smile, but for every 10 or so guests, 1 of them would send a ping to the amulet in Varrus''s pocket, indicating that they also possessed an amulet.
Whenever Varrus saw such a guest, he would approach them with a wide smile, and deliver lines like a used car salesman.
Feeling a ping just now as a fresh group of guests alighted from their carriages, Varrus cheerfully waved at them knowing he had scored once more.
Going through various pleasantries, and welcoming the group, Varrus finally came to the other amulet holder.
Based upon the shifting stars in their mask, Varrus assumed that they were a mage. Of the 13 guests he had caught, this would make for the 7th mage amongst the cultists.
¡°Amongst these fine people, I can see you stand out above the rest! I must share something with you! A Muffle, if you please?¡± Varrus said looking left and right deliberately, as if he truly did have some important secret to share.
He could feel the nearby Highborn bristle at Varrus''s pre planned speech, to which Varrus only barely stopped himself from rolling his eyes. A bunch of jealous pre-Medonas, little did they know that he wouldn''t pay any of them any kind of attention unless he thought they were part of a death cult.
¡°I''m flattered, but this really isn''t the place to openly talk about secrets, Vandercross.¡± The mage said in a low tone, eyes darting about left and right, yet his face was all smiles for the rest of the world to see. Yet they set up a shroud of Muffle around them, all the same.
Varrus''s smile only widened as the other Elf did as asked. If there was anything a Highborn of this level would take pride in, it would be his ability to keep their voice hidden from others. By having the mage use his own spell, Varrus was luring him into a false sense of comfort.
Clearing his throat, Varrus reeled back any external cringe he might feel at what he was about to do, and adopted the demeanor of a pyramid scheme recruiter.
¡°Nothing much, brother. We are the chosen ones, only we can see the faulty vision of the Prince and the Convocation. That the Sunwell is well and truly lost. Only through our new God can the wise take their rightful place as Quel''Thalas''s leaders.¡± Varrus said with passion.
¡°You are the First Seat of the Convocation, yet you are a member of the Afflicted. How curious. Can I trust this isn''t some plot?¡± The mage said, seeming like he might prepare a spell to attack at any time.
¡°I am but a puppet. Lor''Themar has forced himself on the Convocation so that he can control both the military and the government. I am young, and inexperienced. I thought I could fix the Sunwell, but I see that it was the mistaken folly of a youngster too far over his head. I should have listened to the wise during the emergency session. We all should have listened¡¡± Varrus said with some melancholy.
He barely withheld a giggle as he saw the mage slowly nod along to his faux sob story.
¡°Very well. So long as you stand aside, and seek our counsel on matters of the state, there will be a place waiting for you in the wise a thousand years from now. By joining us, you have made a wise decision.¡± The mage ultimately said with an ironic smile.
¡°Thank you! I know! Which is why I was tasked with hosting this party! Inside this letter are instructions for our great mission.¡± Varrus quickly composed himself, then took a letter out of his breast pocket, and handed it over with great funfair.
Anyone who was observing them couldn''t hear a word due to the shroud of Muffle, however, they did play witness to the First Seat, Highlord Vandercross, paying great respect to the mage.
Various rumors began to spread, and soon word reached the attendees that another member of the wise had received an invitation of some sorts from Vandercross.
As the letter left Varrus''s hands, he was quick to hold out his other hand in a ¡®halt¡¯ motion.
¡°What is the meaning of this?¡± The mage said, narrowing his eyes.
¡°I know not what is within the letter. All I was told by the member of our organization that inducted me, is that the contents within will vanish if opened too soon.¡± Varrus explained.
¡°Well then, when will the right time to open this letter be?¡± The mage said impatiently.
¡°When the last dance is called to end the ball, then we shall all open our letters at that time. It makes one wonder what sort of great undertaking we are about to embark upon. Every Elf of high society has gathered together on this day. Perhaps we shall finally convince them all towards our cause?¡± Varrus said with false passion and zealotry.
¡°I had thought such a scheme was already set to take place after the last dance, but no matter, I can see the value in receiving additional instructions just before the trap has been sprung. You have done well, Vandercross, I look forward to seeing you mature.¡± The mage nodded, then walked away, breaking the Muffle.
The sounds of the party rushed into Varrus''s ears, yet he ignored them all as he learnt of a new plot.
It was ignorant of him to assume that he would be the only one to take this opportunity to lay a trap.
Narrowing his eyes, Varrus looked forward to putting an end to the traitors.
Chapter 59
(Kael¡¯Thas POV)
Flying over the ruined city of Silvermoon, he was pleasantly surprised to see the removal of more than half of the Dead Scar from the city.
¡®Varrus had done well.¡¯ Kael thought to himself as pride in his best friend swelled.
He was still sour that they hadn''t aimed straight for Arthas, but the explanation of Demons and the idea of charging blindly into the enemy did make for a cautionary tale.
Regardless, Kael was eager to join the fight. Tomorrow he would set out with the Sunfury, and finally take the fight to the enemy.
He would have set out earlier, but that same dastardly friend of his had tempted him with armor for his army, and informed him that he was catching traitors from within their ranks.
Varrus wasn''t specific, but the idea of traitors sent Kael''s blood to a boil.
Clenching a fist, Kael accidentally plucked a feather from his mount.
¡°Oi, easy with the plumage Goldilocks, if you want to tug on something else, we could always find a secluded corner at this party and~¡± Jan''alai-transformed into her Loa dragonhawk form-chirped from beneath Kael.
¡°N-nonsense! I can barely get a wink of sleep as it is with you around, Jan''alai!¡± Kael said in complaint as he felt the soreness of his hip.
It was an embarrassment, such that he had to discuss the restoration of the Sunwell with Varrus. If his friend could make it whole once more, the sooner the better. Then Jan''alai would see why he was called Sunstrider!
¡°You''re not having any lewd thoughts up there, are you?¡± Jan''alai mocked.
¡°Preposterous. I am a Prince of the realm. An Elf of my caliber does not let his mind wander towards such depraved activities. My thoughts are solely focused on the safety of my kingdom.¡± Kael huffed.
¡°Really? Then why are your ear tips so red?¡± Jan''alai was quick to respond.
¡°My ear tips are not red!¡± Kael snapped back.
Jan''alai suddenly picked up speed, and rocketed up above the cloud line, fast like a jet.
Kael was left breathless from the sudden motion. A moment later, the dragonhawk transformed into a muscular, buxom green Troll.
Grinning down at him whilst their momentum still carried them upward, Jan''alai embraced his head between her breasts, then whispered huskily in his ear. ¡°Yep, still red.¡±
Kael felt her warmth, and sighed in gratitude from the surprisingly tender embrace. He had never been hugged like this by anyone else since he had been born. His mother was a mystery to him, and his father, while loving, was always busy in the palace. Besides his tutor, and best friend, none had shown him the slightest modicum of affection. Only sycophants, and those seeking to use him for their own political gain sought him out. Which is one of the reasons why he ran away to Dlaran, and joined the Human mages of the Kirin Tor.
But now he had more than revenge on his mind.
What was this warmth spreading throughout his body?
Kael silently stared into Jan''alai''s wild grin. It was an honest smile, one that told Kael exactly what she wanted. Compared to the double speak of most Elves, it was refreshing.
¡°There''s no satisfying a girl like you.¡± Kael eventually replied with a small smile of his own.
¡°You know it, Goldilocks!¡± Jan''alai grinned once more, and stole a quick kiss.
Kael didn''t even flinch, or attempt to move away when he felt her tongue enter his mouth. Instead, he responded with a slap on her buttocks, knowing that she enjoyed physical reciprocation from their time spent together.
She gently dragged her teeth across his tongue, then winked and transformed into her dragonhawk form as they had started to fall towards the ground.
He was slowly letting his guard down around this outgoing and bombastic girl.
Maybe it was what his heart told him it was, but his brain wanted to deny it.
Maybe it was.
Love.
Kael felt the hilt of his ancestral, broken blade Felo''melorn from its sheath by his side. However, he no longer needed to hold onto its burning blade to see if he could still feel.
Looking off into the horizon, Kael wanted to feel melancholy. Wanted to wallow in the despair of his lost father. But when he clung tightly to the feathers beneath his thighs, and felt her warmth, the melancholy diminished to a respectful sadness.
He recognized that he had lost his father, and accepted that fact. The wound was still raw, and he felt like he could go mad just thinking about it. But now, he had more than revenge to look forward to.
¡°You¡¯re not moping up there, are you Goldilocks?!¡± Jan''alai called up to him.
¡°Hardly. I¡¯m simply admiring the, ah, greenery, as my friend put it. Thank you Jan''alai. Thank you for being my Greenbeak.¡± Kael gently patted her on the back, and allowed himself a genuine smile.
¡°O-of course!¡± Jan''alai sputtered.
¡°Good, then let us alight, we are here.¡± Kael said with confidence.
Transforming into her humanoid form, Jan''alai had her arm linked with Kael¡¯s, and he cast a levitation spell, allowing them both to fall gracefully in front of the Vandercross Estate.
Many Elves quickly began to whisper amongst themselves that the Prince had arrived, along with a few unkind slurs directed Jan''alai''s way.
He couldn''t pinpoint the exact people who had spoken ill of Jan''alai, but that didn''t mean he would take it lying down.
Kael was about to speak up, when Varrus-who had been standing near the entrance-cast a thunder spell into the sky, deafening those voices of protest.
If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
¡°My Prince! Welcome to my humble abode!¡± Varrus clapped, to which everyone else-including those who had disparaged Jan''alai-joined in.
Kael smiled at his friend''s defense. Whilst Kael had looked forward to protecting Jan''alai''s honor for once, and show Varrus that he had gained new confidence. However, this feeling of being wanted. Of genuine friendship. It was nice.
Kael found himself smiling once more in a rare display of affection. So accustomed to maintaining the stoic poise of a Prince, the muscles around his cheeks began to hurt from long disuse.
However, when he spotted a lady next to his friend tightly clinging to his arm, Kael''s eyes narrowed, and he felt a bout of jealousy. Varrus had been his friend for decades, and now he was stolen away as soon as Kael had returned from Dalaran?
¡°Hey, no moping.¡± Jan''alai reminded with a squeeze to his hand.
Kael rolled his eyes at her, then held his hands up at the crowd to pause their clapping.
¡°Thank you friends, thank you. I see that the First Seat has opened his vaults, and Mana Stones are aplenty. Please, do not allow my arrival to diminish the festivities. Enjoy yourselves!¡± Kael said in faux confidence, eager to push the attention away from himself.
He may have accepted the role of leader, but that didn''t mean he suddenly became a social animal.
As the crowd began to converse amongst themselves once more, a gaggle of the wise and other social elites came to bother him.
He stared murder at Varrus through the eye holes of his phoenix mask, but his friend was quick to look away.
¡°My friends, I apologize for wasting your time, but the Highlord promised me new armors for the Sunfury. I beg your leave, as I must inspect the goods. Good day!¡± Kael hastily spoke to the rapidly forming circle, and spoke up towards Varrus.
His friend replied with a knowing grin, yet saw fit to play along.
¡°Tis true, the Prince has been promised masterworked armor. Armor smithed by my hand. Why, we are holding a competition now to see the toughness of this armor. Rho''dan!¡±
Kael watched on in confusion as a spot in the square just outside the mansion was cleared out, and 3 different armors were set up on stands.
Next to the armor, a pallet of bricks was also carted out, much to Kael¡¯s confusion.
Varrus¡¯s smirk had Kael roll his eyes.
His friend always had an air for the dramatic. But this was simply ridiculous. Kael had already received the test reports from the armor, at this point, Varrus was simply showboating.
¡°Masterworked armor? How do you intend to outfit the Sunfury when barely a week has passed since its creation?¡± An Elf scoffed as he stood out from the crowd, and began to circle the gear. He would rap on it with his knuckles, as if he was testing it for something.
¡°In order of weakest to strongest, these armor sets are glass, mythril, and thorium. And I invite everyone to test their toughness. Anyone who can piece the thorium set in one attack can take an entire Mana Stone home.¡± Varrus declared, pointing at one of the boulder sized crystals.
Excited muttering spread throughout the crowd as many an Elf began to test their mettle against the armor.
With the crowd''s attention sufficiently distracted, Kael made his way to Varrus, and took up a glass of wine along the way.
¡°A toast to the host and hostess!¡± Kael nodded at Varrus, then bowed towards the lady as etiquette demanded.
¡°None of that! It is good to see you Kael! And Jan''alai, you have kept him out of trouble?¡± Varrus cockily returned the toast with some merriment.
Kael wanted to scowl at his friend''s antics, but he found it impossible to hate on the trouble maker. In all of 5 seconds, Varrus had diffused the tension from Kael and Jan''alai''s arrival.
No verbal admonishment or warning necessary. A simple show of force, followed by the offer of Mana Stones had the crowd run to Varrus¡¯s tune.
¡°He¡¯s making it difficult, but I think I have it in order.¡± Jan''alai slapped Kael on the back, and roared in laughter.
Varrus chuckled at his expense, and nudged Syra from the side, however, she remained silent in their presence.
How rude!
His friend¡¯s wife seemed to stare Kael down for a moment in distrust, and from his POV, the feeling was mutual.
He had been corresponding with Varrus via letter for decades, and he never heard of this girl, not even once. Then suddenly, on the most tragic day in their history, his best friend just so happened to get married to this violent woman?
Kael wasn''t buying it. The fact she was the daughter of the notorious witch, Faedra, was no help either.
¡°Ah, there you are! I hope I am not intruding on anything?¡± Lor''Themar came up behind Kael and Varrus, and wrapped his arms around both of their necks in a choke hold.
Jan''alai and Syra both bristled, seemingly ready to attack at any moment, but Lor''Themar simply laughed it off, and released them, and pushed them forward.
¡°Look at you, all grown up. So serious at such a young age! This is a ball, a gala of the social elite! Live a little today, because once we¡¯re on campaign, you¡¯ll wish for moments like this.¡± Lor''Themar said, raising a glass in toast.
Kael looked down at his goblet introspectively for a moment, then clicked his glass with Varrus¡¯s and the Ranger General¡¯s.
Today was the last day of peace. The last day he would be amongst his friends. The nerves, the waiting, it had steadily begun to eat away at him when all he wanted was to take the sword to the Scourge.
But as he took a sip of his drink and he saw Varrus happy with his wife, Lor''Themar¡¯s knowing smirk, and the tight hold of Jan''alai''s hand, perhaps the Elder Elf was right.
As much as he hated being the center of attention, he would miss this feeling of comradery once he left for war.
¡°No pouting, Goldilocks, this is a frown free zone! You see what I have to deal with, Varrus? He is, what do you say?¡±
¡°A drama queen?¡± Varrus supplied.
¡°Yes! A drama queen!¡± Jan''alai said in excitement.
¡°Queen Sunstrider. I like the sound of that.¡± Syra laughed.
Kael narrowed his eyes once more, but a quick clap on his back broke him out of his fugue.
¡°It appears the Sunfury will be well supplied, my Prince, I am jealous!¡± Lor''Themar said in good cheer, yet directed a savage grin towards Varrus all the same.
Kael took this as an opportunity to dogpile upon his friend. See how he liked it!
¡°Yes, yes, Varrus, it is a pity that you do not see the value in your fellow councilman. Are you so corrupt that you see fit to only equip your Prince, and best friend¡¯s army, disdaining all other forces within Quel''Thalas?¡± Kael said, arching an eyebrow in faux disdain.
Varrus¡¯s twitching eyebrow, and slight opening and closing mouth made coming here worthwhile.
¡°We can always distribute the weapons and armor to the Rangers, Ranger General. I am sure the Prince wouldn''t mind. After all, we would be cutting down on corruption. I heard a rumor that he''s locked up in his room all day anyway. Armor isn''t the sort of protection he needs.¡± Syra said whilst looking to the side.
Kael was at a loss for words, and now it was his turn to look askance. He turned to Jan''alai, hoping she would hit Syra with a burn of her own, but no, what was this?! Laughter?!
¡°Bwah hah hah hah, she got us good, Goldilocks!¡± Jan''alai belly laughed, and held out her hand for a fist bump with Syra.
Varrus¡¯s wife seemed to consider it for a moment, before reciprocating with a fist of her own. All the while, she was grinning like a maniac at Kael as if to say ¡®see, even those closest to you like me.¡¯
Kael felt betrayed, Varrus, Jan''alai, and even Lor''Themar were actually laughing at what Syra had said!
He wanted nothing more than to squat down and bury his head in the sand, such was his embarrassment.
¡°Well, I won¡¯t keep you four long, but I came over here to tell you that after this little test of strength against your armor, we¡¯re holding an archery contest, participation is mandatory.¡± Lor''Themar raised his goblet for another sip, then turned to walk away.
¡°Damned Old Man.¡± Varrus muttered.
¡°You have a problem with Lor''Themar?¡± Kael raised an eyebrow in curiosity.
¡°You¡¯ll see. The Old Man is a devious prankster at heart.¡± Varrus shook his head to the side, refusing to elaborate further.
Kael didn''t know what to make of that, but he was sure to enjoy the show.
Lor¡¯Themar was right about one thing, whatever this party had in-store for him, Kael was determined to make the most of it.
Tomorrow, he would go to war.
Chapter 60
The gala was well underway, and the strength of the thorium armor was all the rage. Its natural resistance alongside protective enchantments made it a beast of an armor set.
Already, a dozen Heroes and Elites had tried the one-hit challenge, yet all had failed to destroy Varrus''s creation.
That didn''t deter the smug Elves one bit, as each and every one of the contestants were self assured that all others were too weak, and that they would be the one to claim the boulder sized Mana Stone as their prize.
Yet so far, only a handful of the Highborn had managed to breach the protective enchantment, let alone scratch the set of crimson plates beneath.
Despite this factoid, none were deterred when all the prestige and mana were on the line.
¡°Firestrike!¡± One Elf called out dramatically, and struck a flashy pose as he brought down a focused beam of hot fiery plasma.
The thorium gear shimmered a pale white, indicating the activation of the shield enchantment, yet a moment later, it shattered like glass. The beam of concentrated heat then began to wear away at the top of the helmet, before ultimately fizzling out a moment later.
A smoking black stain coated the armor¡¯s visor, yet failed to deal any more damage. It was the closest anyone had come to dealing any permanent harm, and was worthy of praise. Not even a single cast of Varrus¡¯s Expert level spells could do as much as this Elf could!
¡°Better luck next time, Magister Bloodsworn. We shall have to dine someday.¡± Varrus said consolingly to one of the Heroes who bound one of Kith''ix''s legs during the battle of the beach.
¡°Another time.¡± Alastair Bloodsworn said politely, yet his tone betrayed hints of displeasure.
Varrus didn''t take it to heart, and merely nodded his head with a smile. Alistair canonically bound a Naaru (an alien being of nearly unlimited Light magic) and siphoned its energies to feed the entire paladin order of Blood Elves in the Burning Legion expansion. He was a genius of the highest order, and one whom Varrus had considered as a member of the Convocation, before settling on Telonicus and Tae¡¯thelon. It would behoove Varrus to mock such a talented individual, but that didn''t mean he couldn''t hit them with an ironic ¡°gg.¡±
Alistair was but one amongst many Elves to have their feathers ruffled by Varrus¡¯s creation.
As the strongest of the Highborne were up to the challenge, any one of them could destroy this thorium armor if given the opportunity of multiple attacks.
In his testing, Varrus found that on average, it took Lor''Themar five of his magic arrows to breach the protective metal.
The sinister thing about the one-attack challenge, however, was that the protective enchantment acted much like a shield from the Halo series. Once the thin film of white protective energy burst, it would then recharge after a delay.
Frankly speaking, enchantments were some bullshit. BS, that Varrus was all too happy to use and abuse when it got him results like this.
If before, some of the socialites were cozying up to him due to his political station, Mana Stones, and combat record, now they were practically begging for his attention.
Somehow, someway, it wasn''t the slaying of Drathir Dar''Khan, the claiming of Zul¡¯Jin''s head, the release of Mana Stones, or the casual slaughter of ten thousand Trolls that got their attention.
No!
It was a damn set of seemingly indestructible armor!
Damn the safety of the realm, they prized their own security over everything else!
With the possibility of death at an all time high, personal safety had become the number one priority now that a new offensive was set to take place tomorrow.
Highborn were-in their own prideful way-clamoring for his attention.
¡°I heard you were interested in old tomes and schematics. Perhaps the Highlord would be interested in a trade of sorts?¡±
¡°Nonsense, the First Seat is interested in the gem dust required for enchantments! My shop has just what you need!¡±
¡°Oh Highlord, you have a mnn, fine piece of equipment. Perhaps I could offer my expertise on its design. Someplace private of course, I don''t offer my services to anyone.¡± One Elf known for her skills in artistry slunk towards Varrus like a skilled temptress, and came within
Based upon the tightened grip on his hand, Varrus only barely held Syra back, and pulled her into a kiss, briefly sating his wife''s bloodlust.
¡°Begone! I have no need for an adulteress''s opinion!¡± Varrus loudly admonished.
The artsy Elf opened her mouth to say something, but the danger in Varrus''s eyes seemed to send an electric shock through her system. She shivered and gasped, before Syra took a step forward, and punched her in the jaw, knocking her unconscious.
There was no collective gasp, but there was a noticeable silence amongst the guests. Only the sound of enchanted instruments continuing their beat served as any kind of background noise.
On the plus side, the gaggle of Elves surrounding him had melted away like midday mist.
¡°Typical Vandercross behavior.¡± A haughty, familiar voice called from the crowd.
Flowing blonde hair, and a maskless face grinned brilliantly at Varrus and Syra. Atop his fair hair was a cap, like something Robin Hood wood wear.
¡°Can I help you, Commander Brightwing? This is a masked gala, in case you hadn''t noticed.¡± Varrus said with a sugary smile.
Here was a guy he was suspicious of, one whom his wife had wanted to be beaten for insinuating that they engage in a threesome. A man who had suggested the killing of Lor''Themar 10 years later, one who did not have a cultists amulet pinging back at him!
¡°A mask, a mask? No I don''t have a mask, why do you ask?¡± Halduron sauntered over towards the downed artist, and crouched next to her. He then took up her wrist, and felt her pulse, seemingly concerned with her health, all the while, his other hand felt up and down her body as if he was searching for something. That or he was simply perverted.
Varrus narrowed his eyes. Just what was this notorious Farstrider Commander¡¯s game? If Varrus was known for the ¡®my father will hear of this¡¯ type of playboy persona, then Halduron was the clubber who somehow oozed sex despite mouthing off cheesy pick up lines, and smelling of oversaturated cologne. There was a natural opposition between the two of them.
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
¡°Tsk, tsk, how uncouth. A lady so old, and she wished to seduce Silvermoon''s latest couple! Betrothed upon the night of betrayal, the Lord and Lady Vandercross have known not but war and violence! Woe is the fate of this petty saboteur set on breaking apart true love!¡± Halduron said to the crowd, hamming up the drama to the extreme. He then spat upon the fainted actress, and elegantly bowed towards both Varrus and Syra.
Somehow his overt dramatization was working as some guests began to mutter and look negatively upon the downed artist.
¡°Newly weds? During the Scourge invasion?¡± One Elf questioned, aghast at the notion.
¡°The very same! Life, as they say, finds a way.¡± Halduron chuckled, and filched a Mana Stone from the artist in broad daylight as everyone had turned their attention to Varrus and Syra.
Grinning at the Varrus, he winked as he was caught in the act, yet with his back turned to everyone else, he absorbed the crystal with only two witnesses.
¡°My fee for saving her life.¡± Halduron whispered, then tipped his hat at Syra.
¡°You-¡± Syra began with a step forward.
¡°Uh uh uh, crowd of people, true love''s embrace and all that. Everything before-the insinuations during our time spent together-it was merely a joke, a jest, water under the bridge and honey over the meadow. Or er, something like that!¡± Halduron held his hands up to protest his innocence.
Varrus quickly threw up a shroud of Muffle so that no others could eavesdrop upon their conversation.
¡°What do you intend to do by making a scene here?¡± Varrus questioned in a low voice.
¡°Me, making a scene? I''m not the one who punched out Silvermoon''s most famous painter, and made her piss her pants. Good job by the way, the broad had been rejecting my advances for the last century. There are only so many flowery words a man can use to describe a blank canvas she calls ¡®art¡¯ before he runs out of adjectives for praise!¡± Halduron complained.
¡°Halduron.¡±
¡°What, you''re serious? Do I have to spell it out for you?¡± Halduron said with a cheeky chuckle.
¡°You''re scared.¡± Syra said, cutting through the bravado.
¡°What, me? Scared of a lady who assaulted the palace on a whim with no backup? Or of the husband who abused his power over the judiciary to keep his political opponents locked up indefinitely? Perish the thought!¡± Halduron rolled his eyes in sarcasm.
¡°What game are you playing? This fear you are showing us is nothing more than a mask, isn''t it?¡± Varrus called Halduron out.
¡°Games? It¡¯s all a game! The Lady is right of course. I am scared. Petrified even.¡± Halduron smirked, leading Varrus to believe he was 80% bullshitting him, but there was enough terror in Halduron¡¯s eyes that it could be 20% real.
¡°But that''s the fun of it all! Otherwise, what''s the point of being immortal if all I do is watch the same 10 actors, and listen to the same 100 songs a million times? The Commander of the Farstriders is not some ornament to play toy soldier like all the rest.¡± Halduron sassily snapped back.
¡°What is your goal in coming here like this? Is it because I didn''t find a way to promote you to Ranger General?¡± Varrus questioned, and at the same time, he tensed, preparing himself for violence when he saw Halduron¡¯s hand briefly hover over one of his blades.
¡°You¡¯re much more fun than your father. Much more grounded, yet still stuck in your Vandercross ways. So sure of yourselves, yet never pausing to think that others could do something from the goodness of their hearts. I never wanted to be Ranger General, I was testing you on Lor''Themar¡¯s behalf. You should ask him the next time you meet.¡±
¡°He¡¯s lying.¡± Syra softly intoned from Varrus¡¯s side.
¡°Okay, so you¡¯re not more grounded, and are prone to outbursts. I wanted to see if you¡¯re weak to flattery. Is it working?¡± Halduron asked with a big smile.
¡°So what. You lurked in the background for the perfect opportunity, then came marching up to me in the middle of the party to discuss¡nothing?¡± Varrus said, rubbing his eyebrows in consternation.
¡°Well, that begs the question if there was something at all to begin with.¡±
¡°What?¡± Varrus shook his head in confusion.
¡°You see Varrus, if I may call you Varrus, I knew the artist would offend the Lady Vandercross, much as she annoyed me. And I knew a scene would occur, thus giving me the proper entrance to make amends. So you see, there really was something all along, you follow?¡± Halduron said as he bent down to filch another Mana Stone from said famed artist.
¡°I think I¡¯ll cut out his tongue.¡± Syra said in a matter of fact tone of voice someone would use to discuss the weather.
¡°Right, I second that notion.¡± Varrus nodded along.
¡°Now see here you two! Halduron waved his hands back and forth at them to ward them back. ¡°I heard you were looking for some cultists, and I just so happened to have tracked down their leader in Silvermoon. The missy can attest to my skills.¡±
¡°Talk less, and deliver upon your promise in 10 words or less.¡± Varrus threatened.
¡°I found this book during my investigation, it¡¯s encrypted, but-¡± Halduron explained before suddenly cutting himself off.
¡°But what?!¡± Varrus motioned for Halduron to continue, yet the Farstrider Commander lifted all 10 of his fingers, and cheekily wiggled them.
¡°Speak.¡± Syra threatened as she took a step forward.
¡°My oh my, willing to commit murder in front of the entire social elite? You have found yourself a keeper, First Seat! I wanted to say that this book is full of Death energy, and that if stared at for too long, one''s brain will fully be consumed by 1st Era Murloc inscriptions. Now I do believe this makes us square. Lord & Lady Vandercross.¡± Halduron finished off his speech with a bow, and flourish of his cap, before he left the shroud of Muffle.
Varrus felt an evil aura emanating from the book, and decided to place it in his inventory.
As soon as he did, a new quest prompt appeared: [Find the owner of the Necroclature Mal Mortes]
Considering that he had a target, he decided to try out the Clairvoyance spell and see if it would work for a change. Lifting his hand to cast the spell, Varrus was pleasantly surprised to see a blue stripe navigate his path towards his goal.
Perhaps he could forgive Halduron, and explain to Syra his importance. Perhaps, even, he could keep her ire focused on this artist.
¡®Sorry, not sorry, famous art girl, but you¡¯re going to have to take the bullet.¡¯ Varrus shook his head in faux pity as Syra''s gaze hadn''t left the downed artist once since Halduron had left.
Shaking his head, Varrus focused on his success. If this clearly evil book led him to the cult leader, then it would be another feather in his cap. He never expected the leader to show themselves at his party, and the Clairvoyance spell confirmed that assumption, as it led him deeper into the city, away from his house. However, Halduron was still quite the suspicious character, and this could all be a trap. He would have to approach the enemy leader with caution.
But for now, he would focus on the positives, he had the cultists where he wanted them, and plan or no plan, they would all die tonight. A triumphant grin spread across his face, after tonight''s events, the very thought of betrayal would be backed by the thought of Vandercross retribution.
That grin however, froze into a state of paralysis when Kael launched a purple orb at the thorium armor set, and when it collided, a force of gravity forced the gear to crumple and implode upon itself until it exploded outward due to the intense pressures it was facing.
¡°I believe the prize was one of these boulder sized Mana Crystals, should someone manage to, as you say, ¡®one-shot¡¯ your armor?¡± Kael smugly buffed his nails against his coat, and was barely audible over the enthused clapping coming from the crowd.
There were a few cat calls mixed with some taunting schadenfreude from the party goers as Varrus was still stunned still by Kael¡¯s awesome display of magic.
Shrugging his shoulders, Varrus joined in with the polite clapping. You can¡¯t win them all. Besides, if anyone was going to win, he¡¯d rather it be his friend than one of these assholes.
¡°Congratulations Kael, you¡¯very earned it.¡± Varrus raised his voice, and gestured to one of the crystals dotting the lawn.
¡°The loss at the maze was merely a setback. I warned you that you could not win every wager!¡± Kael laughed.
Varrus nodded along in good cheer. He was going to announce the start of the last dance, when suddenly he caught the eye of that Old Bastard.
Right, the archery competition.
The Old Man thought he was going to humiliate him, but they would see who got the last laugh.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter 61
Lurking at the edges of the party, an infiltrator had donned a mask, and made herself hidden to all but her most ardent supporters.
Skin deathly pale, and long hair flowing snow-white, she was Princess Thal''Ena, eldest child, and daughter to King Anasterian Sunstrider, and Queen Lana''thal.
Raised into one of the vampiric Undead known as the Darkfallen, her thirst for blood, particularly mana rich blood saw her eye each of the guests as snacks to be feasted upon.
Licking her lips in anticipation of tonight''s slaughter, she barely contained herself from pouncing upon the nearest waiter, and taking him into a darkened corner for a little taste.
But she had bigger targets to feed upon.
Varrus Vandercross, and her half brother pulsed with mana enriched blood, such that the mere thought of exsanguinating them sent her into a near orgasmic shiver. The heightened state of drinking blood for a Darkfallen was already an emotion more intense than any aphrodisiac she had tasted in her long life. But the more potent the blood source, the higher the high.
Her mother had claimed this party to be little more than an obvious trap, one only a moron would fall for. In the process, she had forbidden Thal''Ena from attending, and prevented her from taking revenge.
But there was no better time than now to murder the young upstart who had stolen her thunder on the drama stage, and snuff out the boy who had become her father''s favorite!
Highlord Vandercross had edged her out of the acting scene by promoting his son, Varrus. She was the star, and suddenly, this nobody came out of nowhere! For the first time in a thousand years, she felt that fame was mercurial, slipping from her grasp. For that, Vandercross must die.
As for Kael¡¯Thas, it was clear as day that her father intended to name him Crown Prince. Young, inexperienced, easily moldable, a magical prodigy. Kael''thas would be the perfect tool. Where others saw the King as a kindly old man, she knew him for the cruel political animal that he was. She even suspected that her own death was somehow related to his machinations.
Thal''Ena felt her hands grow into claws at the thought of her own father ordering her death, and felt a beastly rage take ahold of her psyche, it was only the cold thoughts of revenge that held her in check.
She heard that the King had gone out in a sea of flame, but that didn''t mean she couldn''t take those feelings of betrayal and anger out upon her half brother, and rival upon the stage.
With this masked gala, her opportunity to infiltrate the city, and cut the head from the snake had finally arrived. By siding with a group of converts chasing immortality, she had received an invitation, and infiltrated Vandercross¡¯s home.
Varrus was practically inviting her to suck on his throat. Begging to be drained of all his life blood, for all of the famous, rich, and powerful to see!
The Heroes and Elites would have no choice but to bow to her by the right of her inheritance, and claim to the Sunstrider name.
Upon which, she would crown herself Queen, and take up the Phoenix Throne!
Damn her brothers, and damn her mother too! Whilst they holed up, building up their forces in Deatholme, she was the only one in the family getting things done.
What sense did it make to fight with armies, when one swift ambush upon the leaders would end the war in a day?
Thal''Ena scoffed at her mother''s lack of decisiveness. A long life spent plotting against the machinations of others had dulled her senses. Action was needed to seize Silvermoon, and only Thal''Ena had the vision to enact such a bold idea.
And so she patiently waited in a corner for the perfect moment to strike. Once the last dance was called, and everyone was packed tightly within the ballroom, then she would launch her surprise attack.
In the meantime, Thal''Ena watched on in bored disinterest as Varrus Vandercross made a fool of himself with a bow.
The idiot could hardly strike the broadside of a barnyard, let alone the edges of a target stand.
How she hated that blubbering fool. Why anyone would bother paying him any respect, she had no idea.
The crowd softly laughed at him, and launched cutting remarks, but he just shrugged it off, seemingly learning how to use a bow as he went along with the competition.
Thal¡¯Ena would have happily criticized the young Vandercross until the dance began, however, one of her collaborators signaled for her attention.
She balked when he didn''t get down on one knee to greet her, only forgiving him due to their undercover nature. But he could at least bow!
¡°Is something the matter, magister?¡± Thal¡¯Ena said with disinterest, bordering on scorn.
¡°Yes, my Lady, I had just finished scrying with your mother, and she has instructed me to call off the attack. I¡¯m here to inform you that she has ordered you return home.¡± The magister simply stated, yet Thal¡¯Ena could detect a hint of victory in his posture.
Who was he to go against a Sunstrider¡¯s plans?
¡°Unacceptable. I am in command here, we have them where we want them, and we will proceed according to plan.¡± Thal¡¯Ena declared.
¡°It is as the Queen suspects, likely a trap, Your Highness. Please see reason. The cards handed out from the entrance are also suspicious.¡± The magister practically pleaded.
¡°As if the child could be so clever! They are nothing more than paper to cast a vote. One to determine which couple danced the finest this evening. Everyone received one upon entry. Come now, that isn''t so complicated for you to comprehend now, is it?¡± Thal''Ena admonished, disdain practically dripped off every syllable.
¡°Be that as it may, Vandercross claimed to have received orders from the top to set this plan in motion. Something the Queen categorically denied.¡± The magister pressed.
¡°So you are against me then?¡± Thal''Ena said, narrowing her eyes.
¡°No, Princess, I never would, just-¡±
¡°Good. Then there is nothing further to discuss. Proceed with the original plan, we will strike after the last dance ends. You had better be good on your feet, because I intend to win.¡± Thal''Ena then shooed the magister away like a common house fly.
Honestly, it was so difficult to find good help these days!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Varrus had just spent the last hour getting absolutely embarrassed at the archery range, however, the speedy improvement in his skills spoke for themselves.
His Archery skill tree had advanced from 20 to 29 after a measly hour of competition, and instruction from Lor''Themar.
Of course he overheard a few of the socialites bad mouthing him, but he didn''t take it to heart. They were probably still sour after losing the one-hit challenge. That, and the fact that a practical ¡®kid¡¯ was the First Seat of the Convocation, and stronger than most of them.
¡°Ha!¡± Varrus couldn''t help but scoff at their petty behavior.
¡°Something amuses you, Vandercross?¡± Lor''Themar asked, never taking his eyes away from the target he was aiming at.
¡°Nothing much, I''m simply thankful that Silvermoon is secure, and that we''ll all be moving out soon.¡± Varrus replied, releasing an arrow from his bow, and missing a round target 300 meters out.
¡°Remember to inhale as you draw, but not a breath that completely fills your lungs, then exhale as you release.¡± Lor''Themar admonished as he released his arrow, striking a target 1,200 meters away.
¡°You make it look easy.¡± Varrus shook his head with a smile.
¡°It''s all in the wrist, the more force it can take, the more stable your shot will be.¡± Lor''Themar explained.
Archery: 29 -> 30
Varrus nodded in appreciation. This is why, despite the dubious nature of the Old Man, Varrus liked training with these old heads. Any random nugget of information could be worth a point towards his skill leveling up. It was like working a new job, and learning all the ropes from a well meaning, senior colleague.
¡°I got it, thanks.¡± Varrus replied, and placed a perk point into the perk, Steady Hand, which zoomed in his view by 25%, and minutely slowed time.
This time when he released the arrow, it firmly struck the target.
¡°Well done, from the beginning, you could barely hit the 100 meter stand. We''ll make a ranger out of you yet, young Vandercross.¡± Lor''Themar stroked his goatee and praised.
Whilst Varrus was feeling proud of himself, Syra took a step up next to him with a bow of her own.
This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.
Casually drawing it, she hit the 1,200 meter target, hitting a space just below Lor''Themar''s.
¡°The Lady Vandercross is an expert as well? You are blessed, my young friend!¡± Lor''Themar chuckled at Varrus.
¡°Nice shot!¡± Varrus praised.
Syra beamed at his praise, and pulled him into a hug. She then leaned in for a whisper.
¡°I recognized Princess Thal''Ena amongst the guests. She has been dead for decades.¡± Syra murmured so quietly, Varrus barely heard her.
¡°That¡¯s my beautiful wife!¡± Varrus loudly chuckled to mask any surprise from showing on his face.
¡°We should start the last dance, my love, I cannot wait to show you my dance moves.¡± Syra smiled like a shark.
Nodding his head, Varrus waved his hand at some enchanted instruments, cutting their sound.
During the moment of confusion, all attention came to Varrus as he levitated himself off the ground.
¡°People of Silvermoon, thank you for attending the Vandercross Gala. If you would please make way to the ballroom, we may begin the festivities in earnest. A dance competition is to be held, and the winner shall be voted upon by you, the people, with the letters I handed out at the entrance. But remember, if you open yours early, anything you write upon it will come up blank. The winner of this competition will take home 5 Mana Stones, so make sure to participate!¡± Varrus said, addressing the crowd.
¡°You young folk enjoy yourselves.¡± Lor''Themar slightly bowed, and smiled at the intensity Syra and Varrus were showing one another, then left as they were lost in their own world.
Varrus wasn''t much one for dancing, but he had always admired the skill it took to conduct a dance battle back on Earth.
Whilst he wouldn''t be moving like a break dancer, that didn''t mean he wouldn''t enjoy himself. Syra seemed to love dancing, and Varrus wouldn''t say no to clinging close to his wife.
¡°I can¡¯t wait, we¡¯re going to kill them on the dance floor.¡± Syra whispered in heedy excitement. A slight aura of bloodlust colored her voice.
Or maybe she had a penchant for murder.
Varrus knocked her on the forehead with his own. It was disturbing how obsessive she was, but it¡¯s not like he wouldn''t act the same way if the assassin had targeted her.
Stealing a kiss on the lips, Varrus took her hand as he made his way into the ballroom, and waved his hand at the instruments.
A classic song from his memory began to play, it was Fur Elise.
Elves began to dance like something out of a Renaissance painting.
Meanwhile, Varrus was keeping his eyes peeled for any sudden act of treachery.
He felt Syra tense up as they twirled past a recognizable couple. Varrus noticed the magister as the cultists he had spoken to earlier.
Based upon Syra¡¯s reaction, the lady dancing with him must be the Princess.
They made eye contact, and she flashed him a mouth full of elongated fangs.
Varrus felt Syra¡¯s grip tighten, and suddenly he was seeing the ceiling as she picked up the pace of the dance. She took the lead, and began to move them around like acrobats at a circus.
As if this were some sort of cue, all the other Highborn broke out of their formal dance routines, and began to go wild.
Varrus was surprised at this sudden change from the standard prim and proper image of Higborn that Varrus had in his mind, yet considering this was a group of people that had a room dedicated to group sex in his mansion, it shouldn''t be that surprising.
Waving his hand, Varrus changed the song once more to one of modern rock. A set of drums started going crazy, and the Elves began to match its tempo.
For a moment, Varrus forgot about the plan as Syra twisted, jumped, and twirled with him at ever increasing speeds.
Sweat and heat spread across him like he was in a boiler room in the middle of summer. Yet he didn''t let go of Syra¡¯s hands for an instant as he saw the same light of madness in her eyes that were in his.
Gripping her chin, Varrus brought Syra in for a kiss, and pressed himself into her whilst they did another turn.
Syra¡¯s breath was hot with desire, and Varrus barely contained himself from dragging his beautiful wife to the nearest closet, and fucking her brains out.
¡°Last song!¡± Rho''dan called out from the second floor.
Varrus was broken out of his fugue at his guard¡¯s reminder.
¡°Focus on winning, there''s no way I¡¯d lose to a corpse.¡± Syra said with some ferocity.
Varrus nodded along, and not for the last time, was thankful he had dumped some stat points into Stamina.
After another 5 minutes, the song had come to an end, and Varrus found himself in the middle of the dance floor with only two other couples. Kael''thas + Jan''alai were going wild, and the Princess and the magister were smooth in their movements.
¡°Good people of Silvermoon, the time is now, open your letters, and cast your votes!¡± Rho''dan commanded.
¡°Enjoy the stage while you can, Vandercross, after I have won, it¡¯s curtains for you!¡± Princess Thal''Ena taunted.
Varrus merely chuckled, ignoring her. Even if Syra hadn''t mentioned anything, this idiot had fitted herself when she flashed her fangs at him. Varrus was ready to go at it any moment now.
However, more important than her, he was about to purge the cancer of this cult from his city.
¡®This was it!¡¯ Varrus thought in anticipation.
As everyone unfolded their paper to vote, an explosion simultaneously took place in everyone''s hands.
The guests who did not have the death cult amulet received a letter with a Paralysis Rune inside. When they opened theirs, they were frozen in place like a statue. Varrus did this so that there would be no interruptions towards his true targets.
Those who had pinged back that they held onto an amulet received a letter containing the Fire Rune. When they opened their letters, they were greeted with an unexpected blast of flame to the face.
Pandemonium ensued as those without magical defenses were consumed by the flame. Those that did wear magical resistant clothing, or enchanted paraphernalia only had a moment to react when Lor''Themar began to rain down arrows upon the traitors. Bringing up the rear, Rho''dan and Dranarus jumped down from the rafters, and surprised the cultists before they could regain their bearings.
¡°You! What is this!¡± Thal''Ena screeched in angered surprise at Varrus.
¡°The Queen warned you.¡± The magister besides her shook his head.
¡°I have had enough of your insolence!¡± Thal''Ena growled.
A moment later, the pale skinned Darkfallen transformed into a grotesque creature reminiscent in appearance to the Vampire Lord form in Skyrim.
Her clawed hand ripped the head off of her subordinate, at the same time, all his blood flowed out of his body, and into her pours.
Syra was the first to react, and pulled her giant buster sword out of a mageweave purse.
Varrus wanted to laugh at the comical sight, but the fight was in full swing.
Syra''s sword flashed dangerously with Light imbued energy, and clashed repeatedly with the Darkfallen''s claws.
Thal''Ena coated her blackened nails with an ethereal crimson energy, and met Syra blow for blow.
The contest of power cracked the floor, and shook the chandeliers like an earthquake.
Taking to the air on tattered wings, Thal''Ena made for the exit, but was rebuffed by the wall of armor that was Rho''dan & the four other Crossguard.
¡°Move!¡± Thal''Ena commanded, trying to bowl Rho''dan over like a bowling ball knocking down the pins.
The guardsman held fast, blocking her with their shields, and didn''t even move an inch.
Syra caught up at this moment, and cut off one of her wings, as well as an arm from behind.
¡°I want her alive!¡± Varrus called out as Syra was about to deliver the death blow.
Whilst Varrus had faith that his wife would eventually take the kill, the Princess was privy to valuable knowledge. The magister said something about the Queen, and Varrus wanted to interrogate the Princess to see what she knew.
The Ghostlands was a sea of Undead, and any information Varrus could ply from Thal''Ena would go a long way in Varrus''s conquest.
Syra readjusted her aim at the last second, pinning Thal''Ena to the ground.
The Darkfallen reached up to claw at Syra¡¯s midsection with her remaining arm, but Varrus stepped forward, and cut it off. For good measure, he cut off her legs too so that she couldn''t kick out.
Blackened blood squinted from her wounds, and it bubbled forth, looking like it would reform new arms.
Being genre savvy, Varrus anticipated this level of instant regeneration, and launched a jet of flames at the stumps of her limbs, cauterizing her wounds and preventing any regeneration.
¡°Bastard!¡± Thal''Ena screeched in pain, and raised her impaled body up Syra¡¯s sword in an attempt to bite at Varrus with her elongated fangs.
Syra decked her across the chin, snapping Thal''Ena¡¯s neck.
The Undead wordlessly growled up at them from the floor, and twisted her body like someone possessed. She had a lot of strength in her body despite losing her limbs.
Syra then cast a spell creating chains of Holy Light, binding the creature to the floor.
¡°Tell us creature, what plans does your mother have for us? What are her numbers? Who are the leaders of the Ghostlands?¡± Varrus tersely questioned, preparing to use his Illusion spells if she did not answer.
¡°My mother would discover I had spilt such secrets. At the very least I can rest easy knowing I have taken you with me!¡± Thal''Ena screeched in hatred.
Eyes widening, Varrus recognized what was about to happen when he saw Thal''Ena¡¯s entire body glow a crimson hue.
Grabbing Syra close, Varrus threw up a Greater Ward just in time to block a point blank, suicidal blast of Death energy.
When the deluge of blood and decay passed, Varrus lowered his shield only to see a blackened stain on the floor.
¡°Should¡¯ve let me kill the bitch.¡± Syra said in disgust, and sheathed her sword.
Blinking his eyes in surprise, Varrus found himself nodding in agreement.
That was closer than he wanted!
¡°So is it done then, are all the traitors purged?¡± Kael said, emerging from the crowd of still paralyzed figures.
¡°Not yet, but it all ends tonight.¡± Varrus said as he showed off the book Halduron had handed him.
¡°And what should we do with the guests?¡± Rho¡¯dan questioned.
Turning towards the frozen statues, Varrus caught the scent of fear on the wind.
¡°Yes, to our guests, thank you for gracing my gala with your esteemed presence! We will have to do it again sometime! I hope you enjoyed your night, I know I have!¡± Varrus said, raising a goblet of wine in salute at the silent mob.
¡°Well said, well said!¡± Syra enthusiastically clapped.
Rho¡¯dan side eyed his fellow guards, and then joined in.
¡°Thank you, thank you, I am pleased you enjoyed the performance. For my next act, I shall cut the head from the leader of the traitors. Rest easy, Heroes of Silvermoon, your First Seat takes the safety of this nation as his top priority!¡± Varrus flashed a grin, then drained his goblet before departing.
Casting Clairvoyance, Varrus set off with his friends in tow. He had an archtraitor to kill!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter 62
On the Isle of Quel''Danas, just north of Silvermoon, Rommath had gathered the remaining cultists to perform a ritual.
Circling the destroyed remains of the corrupted Sunwell, the cultists were chattering about the Vandercross Gala, and shared their mutual jealousy for being unable to attend.
Their constant chatter grated heavily on Rommath''s ears, but they were a necessary component if his ritual was to be completed.
By drawing upon the latent energy of the Sunwell, as well as the nexus of leylines underneath, Rommath would be able to raise into Undeath some of the most powerful Elves to have ever lived. All in the service of furthering his student''s goals.
¡°It was an excellent idea to hold our ascension ritual at the fallen Sunwell, Rommath.¡± One cultist said with excitement.
¡°I concur, to become a Darkfallen, it is a terrifying prospect, but it is preferable to permanent death. Without the Sunwell, we must seize this alternative.¡± Another cultist exclaimed as if he was trying to convince himself of the Justness of his conversion.
¡°You feel the same way, right, Rommath? Ever since I was a little girl, I looked up to your theorems. To know that even you agree that this is the right course for Elven-kind, I am reassured!¡± A nerdy Elven maiden joyfully exclaimed.
¡°That¡¯s Grand Magister Rommath. Just because we are about to embark on our great ascension, does not mean we shall forgo the trappings of our society. We are still better than the mortals! We are Highborn!¡± The first Elf admonished his fellow cultist.
¡°Enough, you are all necessary for this ritual to succeed. Your ascension will take place shortly. Now please, I must concentrate whilst I inscribe these runes.¡± Rommath replied tersely.
¡°O-oh, we''ll be waiting by the side then.¡± The nerdy Elf lady said embarrassedly.
Rommath ignored her in favor of adding inscriptions upon 7 separate coffins.
The boxes made of white oak rested in the center of the former Sunwell, and were to be his ultimate weapon.
By inscribing runes of Order magic, Rommath would be able to combine the power of Void coming down from the night sky along with the power of Light coming from belief.
Glancing at the cultists, Rommath let himself smile. Yes, his sister had spread her lies well. Lana''thel was a devious woman, one who had plotted to overthrow the monarch with his own children.
Unfortunately for Lana''thel, her playthings would become his tools.
¡°B-bad news! A journalist reporting at the gala has just witnessed the unthinkable! All of the Afflicted at the party have been slain! He''s calling it¡the Last Dance!¡± One of the Elves yelled in horror.
Rommath''s ears twitched at the loud exclamation, causing him to scuff an inscription.
¡°Not good! After Vandercross slew our brethren, he was seen holding onto a book, claiming it would lead him to the leader of our group. Vandercross then left the party with a large host of Heroes in tow. But what does a tome detailing translations of First Era Murloc characters have to do with us?¡±
¡°Who cares, we have to scatter! If the book has some sort of tracking magic applied to it, and it leads them to the Grand Magister, then we''re doomed! Quickly, let''s leave.¡± Another Elf rebutted in a panic.
Rommath wanted to chuckle, little did anyone know that he had been experimenting with necromancy for centuries. It was classic misdirection to label a book as something else to deter thieves. However, that begged the question, how did Vandercross come into possession of such a tome?
Rommath blinked his eyes in consternation as a memory of a certain ranger perusing the items in his tower surfaced.
¡®Halduron. That bastard.¡¯
Whilst he was deep in thought, some Elves looked to Rommath for leadership, however, the vast majority of them were seconds away from fleeing the island, like a group of panicked rats on a sinking ship.
¡°Leave? Why leave when your ascension is at hand? Are you truly willing to forsake your chances at immortality over rumors spread via scrying orb?¡± Rommath approached the 200+ cultists, and spoke in a deep, charismatic, bass filled voice.
The crowd looked uncertain, but then the nerdy girl stepped forth, and stood besides Rommath.
¡°The Grand Magister is right! How long would it take for Vandercross to cross the city with the teleportation network down? Afterwards, he''d have to cross the channel! We have enough time to complete our ascension ritual, don''t we, uh Grand Magister Rommath, sir?¡± The nerdy girl started off with fiery passion, yet ended with uncertainty.
¡°...of course, but we must act without delay.¡± Rommath spoke with confidence.
Whilst most people still seemed hesitant, as they had only joined the cult for self preservation purposes in the first place (immortality), they eventually followed the herd after a few people had been swayed by the girl.
Rommath raised an eyebrow at his adoring fan. If he didn''t find social interaction to be so tedious, perhaps she would have made for an acceptable lab assistant.
But there was no time to think of what could have been. Once Vandercross zeroed in on his general location with tracking magic, he could simply teleport here. The girl had grossly exaggerated how much time remained, but Rommath wouldn''t correct her on that error.
¡°Now then, please stand in one of the glowing circles around those caskets, and we shall complete this ceremony together.¡± Rommath curtly ordered.
¡°I just wanted to say, thank you for placing your faith in me. I hope I can pick your brain on reverse Archano Temperance once we have some time.¡± The nerdy girl smiled at Rommath, then twirled around to find her spot.
Rommath sighed, but reminded himself that what he did was for a greater cause. That no matter how peppy this girl was, she was a race traitor who turned to the Scourge.
Keeping that in mind, Rommath began his grand ritual. It was a rushed job, but he would have to make due with what he had.
¡°Bel''Anor Mal Mortes
Bel¡¯Anor Porfunctum
Bel''Anor''ai Morfun¡¯Ties¡±
The stars overhead seemed to twinkle out of existence as Rommath chanted. The only light visible on this dreary isle were the umbra colored magic circles beneath the cultists feet.
¡°Pray for your ascension!¡± Rommath commanded In-between his chanting, his already deep voice echoed with an otherworldly timbre.
¡°In the name of the Plague God, I wish he grant me his benediction. In the name of the Dark Father, I pray for his black blessing. By my destiny, make me Darkfallen!¡± (x200+)
If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.
The prayers of belief generated an unholy combination of Light, and Void.
Inscriptions lit up on the caskets, siphoning away the power of belief, and darkness of old night into the beings held within. The white oak boxes began to shake and shudder as the occupants began to animate. Yet they were incomplete.
There was one component remaining to raise these seven.
For a perfect being of unlife to be birthed into the world, there was one ingredient more important than light or darkness. It was¡
Death!
He was no mere Monday necromancer, no, those Humans who brought about the Scourge were simple charlatans compared to the knowledge Rommath possessed. Their form of Undead was ugly, imperfect, and deformed. To truly bring back a corpse with all the powers and intelligence it possessed in life required one with centuries of knowledge. Knowledge only Rommath possessed!
Clasping his open hands into fists, Rommath, acting as the nexus point between all magic circles, commanded them to expel all breathable air.
¡°Behold, your ascension!¡± Rommath proclaimed to the gasping, and choking cultists.
A small handful of them tried to escape their magic circles, however, they were rebuffed by a faintly glowing shield, preventing any attempt.
However, the majority of the occupants accepted this as a natural outcome of their rebirth. To become Darkfallen was to die, then rise again. It was expected that they were to fall at this moment.
This moment of ¡®peaceful¡¯ asphyxiation was not to last. Before the cultists could fully lose consciousness, the magic circles lit up one more time, and actively drained the mana from the Elves within.
The thought of becoming an immortal, new type of Elf, a Darkfallen, was merely a fantasy. Rommath never intended to transform these cultists into pawns for his sister to use against Prince Kael¡¯Thas.
Instead, they served as fuel for his ritual!
The cultists couldn''t even muster up the breath to scream at Rommath''s betrayal, as their bodies completely withered into nothing.
Rommath caught the eye of his adoring fan, and held her eye contact until she finally turned to dust, figuring he owed her that minimum amount of courtesy.
However, he had little time to spend on trivial matters, as he had a ritual to finish!
Taking a deep breath, Rommath prepared himself for the most difficult part. If he failed to combine Light, Void, and Death, then a most certainly fatal explosion would occur.
No pressure.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
On a dark, moonless night, Varrus had set out with what Heroes he trusted.
Riding hawkstriders to speed up his journey, Varrus was flanked by Syra, Jan''alai, Kael¡¯Thas, Lor''Themar, Rho''dan, Helios, and Dranarus.
Unfortunately, he couldn''t grab Lady Liadran, or Koren as they were on the front lines. As for Halduron, Tae''thelon, and Telonicus, Varrus did not have complete trust in them.
Halduron was still suspicious, so Varrus had him locked up in his dungeon until he could resolve this issue. He didn''t want to have a situation similar to when Mace Windu told Anakin to wait at the Jedi Temple, only to get stabbed in the back. If Halduron proved sincere in his information, then Varrus could work with him going forward, no matter how much he disliked the Farstrider Commander personally, Varrus wasn''t fool enough to discard Silvermoon''s best commando if he didn''t have to. A subordinate could hate your guts, but so long as the job got done, that was all that mattered.
As for Tae''thelon, whilst Varrus didn''t exactly mistrust the critically acclaimed educator, he was an uncertain factor. One whom Varrus would send at other, less critical threats before determining he could place his trust in.
Telonicus was in a similar position to Tae''thelon. Whilst the engineer seemed like a logical sort, Varrus had seen enough Vulcans in Star Trek to know that logic didn''t equate loyalty. He trusted Telonicus to an extent, but Varrus would much rather fight alongside the likes of Lor''Themar or Rho''dan than someone who acted like Shockwave from the Transformers series.
With his team comp settled, Varrus was determined to come down hard and fast upon this interloper.
To that end, a pale blue stream of light snaked in front of Varrus, guiding Varrus towards his quest target. The spell Clairvoyance was in constant effect in one hand, whilst the spell, Thundering Hooves was in the other.
Thundering Hooves: For 180 seconds, your mount is X% faster, regenerates Stamina and can swim upwards to run on water. Nearby allies riding a mount within 30 feet also benefit.
That X% scaled with half of his base mana. Given he had a mana score of 600, his mount, and his allies'' mounts moved a staggering 300% faster.
¡°Buuaaaak!¡± The hawkstrider under Varrus screeched as it lived out its simple dream of ¡®flying.¡¯
If a horse''s maximum speed was around the 44mph mark, then a Hawkstriders could be said to be slightly faster, at 50mph. That means that with the effect of Thundering Hooves, Varrus and his team were traveling at 200mph~
Just directing the beast was a challenge of control, and several near accidents occurred before Clairvoyance took them to the edge of the northern docks.
¡°Keep going, I shall cast Water Walk!¡± Kael said as soon as Varrus began to slow up.
Trusting in his friend, Varrus maintained his speed, and the hawkstriders swiftly tread across the channel towards Quel''Danas.
¡°Hyah!¡± Varrus whipped the reins to move his bird forward, and urged it to ignore any fear of the midnight black waves under foot.
Sea salt sprayed them during their crossing, but Varrus paid it no care, as revenge was on his mind.
Just who was the one who had shot that arrow at him? He needed answers!
¡°This is the site of the Sunwell, we must be wary of an ambush.¡± Rho''dan cautioned.
Varrus nodded, signaling everyone to slow down as they neared the quest target.
However, a mix of great energy suddenly rocked the island, almost shaking Varrus off his mount.
Syra steadied him with one hand, and shot him a comforting smile.
¡°It looks like we can''t afford to wait. Whatever spell is taking place, we must try to interrupt it! We ride!¡± Varrus announced, and took the lead once more.
After cresting a hill, and passing by many ruined buildings, Varrus saw a crater where the Sunwell had been.
Down beneath were 7 floating coffins. They shook as untold power flowed from 200+ magic circles fed them energy.
¡°It cannot be!¡± Kael said in shock.
¡°So the Grand Magister is the traitor.¡± Lor''Themar added, stroking his chin in thought.
¡°Rommath!¡± Helios seethed by Varrus''s side.
¡°Stop him!¡± Varrus ordered, and launched a nearly instant cast of Bolide, hoping to snipe the magister.
A basketball sized meteorite that dealt up to 5x damage, and increased speed by 5x based upon travel distance rocketed forth, lighting up the night sky.
However, a barrier sprang forth, and broke his attack.
At the same time, Rommath''s chanting picked up speed, and delivered the final lines to his ritual.
¡°Ben''Ador Men¡¯Bloodchanter
Ben''Ador Men''Earthwarder
Ben''Ador Men''Dawnbringer
Ben''Ador Men¡¯Starbottle
Ben''Ador Men¡¯Firecaster
Ben''Ador Men¡¯Windrunner!
Ben''Ador Men¡¯ Vandercross!
Arise, arise the first residents of Silvermoon! Your city has need of your services once again!¡±
Varrus and company arrived too late, and Rommath completed his ritual as the coffins burst open.
Emerging from the smoking oaken coffins were Silvermoon''s 7 mightiest champions.
Varrus felt his blood run cold as he recognized a face from his sea of memories. It was the cruelest politician to have graced Highborn lands. The man who had held his position as First Seat for over 5,000 years straight it was-
¡°It is good to see you, Varrus.¡± The man warmly smiled at him.
Varrus''s eye twitched as he recalled the private dungeon in his estate, and the bloodthirsty nature of his guards.
This was no ordinary man who stood in the crater down below.
It was Highlord Vandercross and the past iteration of the Convocation! They were a body of Heroes so influential, so powerful, that they forced back the Amani at the peak of their strength, and created Quel''Thalas alongside the Sunstriders.
Feeling Syra grip his hand, Varrus felt his nerves settle down.
This was it! If he won here, Silvermoon would be cured of traitors!
¡®Alright Varrus. Don¡¯t fuck this up!¡¯
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter 63
The starless night sky suddenly regressed as the ritual had finally concluded, and a pale beam of moonlight spilled upon the scene.
A cold draft of air ruffled Varrus''s red robe, and sweat dripped down his spine as he considered which spells to throw out. A magical barrier stood between him, and the former leaders of Quel''Thalas, giving each side some time to regard one another before all Hell was let loose.
Standing in the crater of the now defunct Sunwell were the original members of the Convocation.
These forerunners of Highborn supremacy were the cardinal leaders known for: Bloodchanter''s enchanting, Earthwarder''s golem construction, Starbottle''s alchemy, Windrunner''s forestry, Firecaster''s Arcane arts, Dawnbringer''s Holy chants, and Vandercross''s Mana Stone creation.
The necromantic ritual had been so effective, the risen members of the Convocation were only slightly pale, with deathly black sclera. Disregarding these two facets, Varrus could hardly tell that they were Undead, as there was none of the typical rotting, or extreme pale as seen in Darkfallen or the average Undead.
Whilst each of them was remarkable in their own right, Varrus''s attention was drawn to one man in particular.
Standing at the front of the pack was Varrus''s father, Highlord Vandercross, or simply put, Vandercross. Like the ancient clans of old, every family requires a sire to start a family line, and old man Vandercross was the first of his name. He was Vandercross.
The ancient Elf was calm, and possessed a stately temperament. His blonde hair, blonde goatee, and chiseled features were typical of Elven design, yet the way he wore it hinted at a breadth of seriousness sorely lacking in typical smug Elf society. It was like the difference between someone who said that they ¡®didn''t care what other people think¡¯ and people who genuinely couldn''t be bothered. Some people pretended to have it, whilst others naturally breathed and lived it.
Tying things out with a red breastplate crafted from thorium, and cloaked in a long black cape inlaid with golden runes, he was an impressive figure. If there were a poster recruiting young boys to join the frontlines, Vandercross¡¯s image would be the aspiration all youth would aim towards.
To Varrus, just looking at the man who had held a nation of immortals in an iron grip was enough to make his mouth go dry. He was the figurative Devil, the eternal politician who could not, and would not go away.
Highlord Vandercross had a presence about him. It was like when a crowd in a club was partying, but all went silent as someone truly important entered the room. Like if Caesar, Alexander, Ghengis, or any other famous leader stood before any group of men. Their very presence commanded obedience, oozed respect, and spoke of an untold confidence founded upon the bodies of thousands.
Vandercross stepped forward, at that time, Varrus noted that Rommath seemed to mutter some spell, and had a slightly strained complexion. It would seem controlling these seven was not so easy for the famed Grand Magister.
Varrus reasoned that Rommath might act as a tether binding the former Convocation to the world. Feeling a squeeze from Syra''s hand on his palm, he knew she had noticed this slight change as well.
Whilst Varrus was beginning to think up a plan to ambush the arch-traitor, his father began to speak.
¡°My son, my beautiful boy, what have these foul cretins whispered in your ears that you stand against me so? What sweet lies did Anasterian''s Human-loving spawn whisper that had you wear the First Seat''s brooch of office? You know you are no mage, wizard, priest, paladin, ranger, warrior, or rogue. You are but a troubadour befallen troubled times! Tell your papi anything, have these villains brought you hence to wield as a hostage?¡± Vandercross¡¯s voice was magnetic like a radio host¡¯s from the 1930¡¯s, yet the words coming from his lips went contrary to Varrus¡¯s expectations.
Where were the threats? The demands for freedom from Rommath? Or even a hiss, or scowl?
What was this, love, concern?
¡°Highlord.¡± Rho''dan saluted.
¡°Young Varrus is more than meets the eye, he has seized the role of First Seat through his own merits. He has concealed his talents deeply.¡± Rho''dan said with some pride coloring his voice.
¡°Rho''dan, my most faithful. Am I to expect that the enemy simply left after they seized the Sunwell? That mine own flesh and blood who practiced naught but poetry and musical lyrics could convince Anasterian, Sanguinar, and the rest of the wise?¡± Vandercross questioned the red headed guard, yet his eyes never left Varrus. It was as if he was looking to confirm something, what exactly that was, Varrus had no clue.
¡°My liege, Anasterian is dead.¡± Rho''dan spoke with finality.
Old man Vandercross seemed to take the news hard as he clenched his jaw, and tightened his fists in silence.
Eternal politician Vandercross may be, but perhaps he had a ¡®human¡¯ side to him? Varrus speculated his father wasn''t all evil if he could show such remorse.
¡°I see. Then this is no grand assault to foil the plans of a mad necromancer. It is but the desperate outcry of a once great people on the verge of collapse. Three children, a ranger lieutenant, the shoe carver, the gossip, a Troll, and my own guards. How low have we fallen that this is the response Silvermoon has mustered in her defense?¡± Vandercross spoke with sadness, and rank disappointment at their seeming failings.
¡°Speak to me son, have we fallen so low?¡±
Varrus opened his mouth to reply, but was beaten by a loud guffaw from Jan''alai.
¡°Ha! The Vandercross is exactly as seen in the scrying orbs! See, what did I tell you, Goldilocks! This humble attitude is the prelude before a dagger aims to stab us in the back!¡± Jan''alai confidently boasted, and slapped the surly Prince on the shoulder.
And seemingly on cue with what she said, a jagged crystalline pillar sprang up under Varrus & company''s feet.
Varrus recognized it as a Mana Stone! However, it was absorbing the ambient energy during its inception, and was glowing an ominous gray-green, indicating a heavy concentration of Death magic!
When the crystal lit up, and was about to explode, Syra slashed downward with her buster sword, slicing the crystal in two.
The two halves of the Mana Stone still continued to glow brighter and brighter, signaling that an explosion was imminent.
Varrus was about to grab Syra, and Blink out of the way, but she dodged his grasp, and cut up the Mana Stone into hundreds of tiny pieces, like Trunks from DBZ dicing Frieza.
¡°So this is your wife Syra. Magnificent. A once in a generational talent worthy of my son. With Anasterian dead, she would make a capable Queen.¡± Vandercross smiled, and nodded at Syra with affection.
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
Syra in response, hid behind Varrus.
He felt her grip tighten on his arms as she peaked around his shoulders.
¡°Aha! As I suspected, he was merely testing the love interest! Ah, a classic. Come Goldilocks, smile for me, it is funny, yes?¡± Jan''alai ruffled Kael on the shoulder, however, all she received was a scowl for her trouble.
¡°I am happy for you, my son. Come, show me why you have earned the right to bear the First Seat''s symbol of office.¡± Vandercross said with pride, and gestured towards Varrus.
Varrus had become weary at the close call a moment ago, but the fear and anxiety of a big battle had gone to the recesses of his mind as he felt the embarrassment radiating off of his wife.
Syra was still hiding behind his back, and he wanted nothing more than to take her in a hug, and burn this look of squirming giddiness into his memories. Because right now, she was simply a bundle of adorableness.
¡°Master Rommath, I thought you were my friend. Were you always with the Scourge? Was our relationship nothing but a farce for you to seize power?¡± Kael said with hurt and pain.
Varrus glanced at the Prince, and saw that despite all of Jan''alai''s best efforts, his emoness was raw and full of emotion.
Rolling his eyes, Varrus just found another reason to murder Rommath. He had just resolved the Fel magic issue, like hell he was going to allow that issue to regress.
¡°The Scourge? Please do not demean your intelligence by making such a reckless claim. Necromancy is like any other form of magic contrary to Arcane. Dangerous beyond the norm, yet worthy of study all the same. It is through my efforts that I gift unto you my ultimate weapon.¡± Rommath spread out both his arms, and allowed the might of the Undead Convocation speak for themselves.
¡°The Scourge have decimated 80% of our population Rommath. The people would never accept their mightiest Heroes fighting in such a manner. It is borderline sacrilegious.¡± Lor''Themar butted in.
¡°Ever the dogmatic loyalist, Lor''Themar. What does the opinion of the people count for once Prince Kael¡¯Thas has become King? My creations will save the realm. And their first order of business will be to purge this cancer we call the Convocation. Ironic, is it not? My arrow failed on the beach, but that does not mean I will miss this time.¡± Rommath shook his head, and replied in a level tone of voice, as if discussing murder was no more trivial than shopping for a pair of clothes.
¡®So it was Rommath, and not Halduron, or some other figure who shot the Arcane Arrow at my back!¡¯ Varrus internally exclaimed to himself.
Thinking back to the event, Rommath had been out of commission due to his giant phoenix ritual spell going ary. But if that was all a ruse to take him off the suspect list, then it worked like a charm!
Besides, Varrus was still somewhat stuck in his video game biases. Why couldn''t a mage use a bow? Furthermore, it was an Arcane Arrow made of pure magic. Why would an Archmage require a bow to form his own magic into the shape of an arrow? Heck, Varrus had a Skyrim spell, Spectral Arrow, which followed a similar concept!
Varrus had bamboozled himself with game logic, when all along, he should have set his sights on the one Hero to bow out of the fight early!
Whilst Varrus was internally beating himself up, and Rommath was finishing his monologue, Lor''Themar had quick drawn his bow, and launched an Arcane Arrow. The bolt took on a white hue, and streaked towards Rommath like a speeding bullet.
The missile pierced the barrier between the two parties like a rock thrown through a glass window, creating spider web fractures in the defensive formation.
Continuing on its path, the arrow was about to strike the Grand Magister.
Eyes going wide, Rommath had clearly underestimated the newly christened Ranger General, and only had time to flinch as the powerful munition closed within a few feet.
However, before it could hit him, a pair of twin blades intercepted the arrow, and knocked it off course.
¡°Lireesa.¡± Lor''Themar muttered in pain.
¡°Predictable as always, my love.¡± Lireesa Windrunner playfully chided.
¡°I am sorry for failing you, my Ranger General, but I must put you down. For the good of Quel''Thalas.¡± Lor''Themar spoke with steely resolve, and notched another arrow.
¡°Whatever do you mean?¡± The pretty blonde Windrunner tilted her head to the side.
Silence met the former Ranger General, and everyone drew their weapons, or had a spell on their lips as the tension began to mount.
All the while, the crack in the magical barrier began to slightly widen, and crinkle ever wider, like ice shifting in a lake.
The sound of this comparative silence paired with the slow shattering of the shield wall was practically deafening to Varrus.
¡°Dranarus, we have worked together for many years. What. Happened. To. My. Children.¡± The mother of four calmly stated.
The Knight-Lord, so often prone to gossip and small talk, remained steadfast in his silence.
However, his nonanswer was all the answer Lireesa needed, and her veneer of calm was replaced by a slowly mounting rage.
Death energy like no other began to coat the woman, making her seem like a magnet for magic in Varrus¡¯s Mana Sight.
Varrus saw this shift in momentum against them, and raised an eyebrow in concern. The heavy sadness in Lor''Themar''s eyes, Rho¡¯dan/the Crossguard prematurely raising their shields, and the lost look in Kael¡¯s expression said it all. All the while, the crackling barrier lost ever more shards. It was only a matter of time before it shattered, and all pandemonium was unleashed.
It was as if all involved had agreed on some unwritten rule to fully engage one another once the barrier had fallen apart.
As it stood, his side¡¯s morale was at an all time low.
Waiting to take a bullet to the gut left a sour taste in Varrus''s mouth. Why should he fight like an Elf, and follow some unwritten etiquette? Each side had failed at ambushing one another, and now they were supposed to wait?
To hell with that!
This fight would be so fast paced, he''d likely get few if any opportunities to cast a Master tier spell.
If Rommath wanted to play games, and his allies were going to pause in hesitation, then he''d remind them just who their First Seat was, and how he had earned that spot!
Raising his hands high, Varrus decided to break this deadlock, and unleashed a classic Skyrim spell.
Lightning Storm.
Within a few seconds of bringing his hands together, a pure beam of lighting surged forth like a kamehameha wave.
The sound of shattering glass echoed within the Sunwell''s crater as the barrier utterly disintegrated from Varrus''s onslaught.
Crystalline Mana Stones rose from the ground to intercept Varrus''s attack. One after another, they absorbed the mana coming from the lightning, delaying the lightning beam from instantly vaporizing the former Convocation.
However, these crystals were nothing more than a stop gap measure, and could only hold out against Varrus''s attack for 5 seconds before their capacity was overloaded, and they exploded.
A dozen Mana Stones had impeded Varrus''s attack, but right when he was about to see success, a colossal golem made from shattered Mana Stones, and the surrounding earth rose from the ground, and blocked Varrus''s constant attack.
Roaring into the heavens, the golem redirected the lightning, and spat a concentrated blast of Varrus''s own attack back at him.
Forced to swap spells for a ward, Varrus grunted as he was pushed several feet backwards.
Looking up, Varrus realized he had no time to dilly dally around, as the battle had begun in earnest.
The final fight between Silvermoon''s old rulers, and the new generation had finally arrived.
Catching a hold of Syra''s mad smile as she glared murder at the both golem and Rommath, Varrus felt his resolve soar.
So what if the Convocation had ruled for over 5,000 years? These ancient fossils and their complacency had led to their demise! The very destruction of Quel¡¯Thalas!
Grinning back at Syra, Varrus tossed out a dozen meteorites with the spell Bolide. As a result, the colossal golem took a step back, almost crushing its allies in the process.
In their arrogance, they gave control of the Sunwell to Drathir Dar''Khan, and lost. Varrus couldn''t imagine a more embarrassing fate, then trusting some guy named Dar''Khan.
With arrogant leaders like these, Varrus held no pity for what he was about to do to them. Channeling another Bolide, and tossing out the meteorite at the golem¡¯s knee, he was determined to send these old bones to the Ice Age, and get prehistoric on their candy ass''s!
Chapter 64
Note: a slight change in Canon for the Lore nerds this chapter. If you¡¯re not one, you won¡¯t even notice the tweak in history.
All hell broke loose as meteorite after meteorite bombarded the golem. Its knee was taking a beating, and molten rock dripped onto the ground beneath.
Vandercross allowed himself a small smirk of pride, before erasing it from his face, and concentrating on the battle.
Arrows streaked into waiting shields, fire shook the earth, and the sound of chaos entered his ears.
It was a symphony of violence he hadn''t experienced in many a year.
Taking a deep breath to taste the moment, Vandercross snapped his fingers, and redirected the mana from an arrow into his Mana Stones. He then fed the energy into Earthwarder''s golem, healing the construct.
The golem stomped the ground, launching a wave of earth spikes towards his son and his companions.
Vandercross looked on with bated breath, eager to see what his son''s response would be.
Varrus did not disappoint, and raised a wall of stone to meet the oncoming attack.
The resulting collision caused a huge plume of rocky debris to occlude the air.
¡°Starbottle, I want vision.¡± Vandercross ordered.
¡°Not even a hello.¡± The silver haired Elf, Starbottle pouted, yet got to work, as Vandercross knew she would.
Bringing out a cauldron, Starbottle tapped it, and muttered some incantations. A moment later, the dust and debris was all vacuumed into her pot. She began to toss in some herbs, and pull in the moonlight, but Vandercross paid her no mind, as all his attention was focused on his son.
Standing protectively over him, Syra held Varrus up as an aftershock earthquake from the golem began a landslide.
Rocks and other loose rubble began to tumble down into the massive crater that once was the Sunwell, causing everyone to lose their balance.
¡°Firecaster.¡± Vandercross arched an eyebrow at a redheaded Elf twice as tall as any normal Highborn.
The redheaded mage replied with a raised eyebrow of his own.
Glancing downward, Vandercross realized that the mage had already adjusted to the earthquake, and cast a levitation charm on all of them.
¡°Very good. Dawnbringer?¡±
¡°Yes, yes, is it my turn to perform? Wouldn''t want the boy to think his father is in the company of layabouts, would we?¡± A portly Elf dressed in priestly garb held his belly in jolly good fun as he stepped forward.
¡°Bring the hammer down if you please.¡± Vandercross sternly nodded.
¡°Reminds me of our first fight.¡± Dawnbringer chuckled as he began to vocalize a mantra for his spell.
¡°If you could even call it a fight. I seem to recall much flailing on your part.¡± Bloodchanter scoffed from within his suit of enchanted thorium plate armor.
Dawnbringer gave Bloodchanter the stink eye whilst he finished up his chant, but could not retort lest he break the spell.
¡°Bloodchanter, this is Vandercross¡¯s big day.¡± Starbottle admonished from her kettle with a smile.
¡°Swords out, Bloodchanter, Rho''dan is coming near.¡± Vandercross stated, ignoring the banter between his fellow councilors.
¡°The kid? He can''t even touch my boots!¡± Bloodchanter scoffed, yet he drew his sword all the same.
The thorium blade gleamed murderous red in the moonlight. As the light reflected off the sword, runes inscribed along the blade began to glow. A moment later, the sword caught aflame with silver fire.
¡°Ah, I always loved that effect. Kill for me, Dunidri-¡± Bloodchanter got out, with the intent to say his sword''s name aloud, only to be interrupted by Dawnbringer as he finished his spell.
¡°HAMMER OF JUSTICE!¡± Dawnbringer shouted.
A moment later, a translucent golden hammer the size of a bus, and made of Light energy descended from the heavens upon Varrus''s position.
In the meantime, Vandercross had been constantly conjuring Mana Stones, and absorbing all of Varrus''s magical attacks, or redirecting those that broke through his defense.
It was due to Vandercross¡¯s ability to stall and buy time, that his son was caught out of position, and unable to defend in time.
Glancing at the pretty blonde by Varrus''s side, Vandercross eagerly awaited her response.
Jumping up to meet the threat, Syra slashed her blade at the hammer. A giant sword made of Light energy only a quarter as big as Dawnbringer''s hammer extended out from her sword.
It was not enough.
The force of the hammer was too great and pressed Syra back toward the ground.
Falling mercilessly towards them, Vandercross found himself unconsciously glancing at Dawnbringer.
¡°What can I do? The magic binding us has me attack with the intention to kill!¡± Dawnbringer held up his thick arms, and protested his innocence.
Vandercross imperceptibly nodded his head in acceptance, then turned back to the fight.
¡®Is that all you are capable of?¡¯ Vandercross thought in some disappointment, but mostly, he was worried instead of displeased.
Was it as he had feared? Was Varrus truly coerced or tricked into this encounter?
However, Vandercross¡¯s worries were unfounded as a flash of violet intertwined with gold erupted from Syra, and she cut through the Hammer of Judgement with ease.
¡°Practicing the Void, isn''t that illegal? Who could have suggested such a law?!¡± Bloodchanter tsked, and side eyed Vandercross.
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Vandercross ignored his compatriots'' teasing, and critically eyed Syra for the tell-tale sign of corruption that all Elven Void users were susceptible to.
However, he didn''t notice any change in the color of her eyes, nor in her skin palette.
¡°Magnificent, simply magnificent. Truly, only a one in a million, generational talent could imbue their body with both Light, and Void at the same time, and be corrupted by neither.¡± Vandercross amplified his voice, as well as the clap of his hands so that they could be heard by his son and daughter-in-law.
¡°I swear he let his son take to the stage and act, so that he could live out the fantasy vicariously.¡± Bloodchanter muttered.
¡°If you''re going to stand around and sass, make yourself useful, and start enchanting these herbs for me.¡± Starbottle flipped her silver hair at the fully encased Elf within a suit of crimson armor.
¡°Sorry Star, you heard the First Seat, Rho''daaan is making his way here along with the rest of Vandercross¡¯s House Guard. Tah!¡± Bloodchanter mocked as he strode away.
¡°More than 8,000 years old, and Bloodchanter still acts like a child. Can you believe it, Firecaster?¡± Starbottle turned towards the tall redheaded mage with her hands on her hips.
¡°...enchanting is not my specialty.¡± Firecaster disappeared in a whiff of flame.
¡°Patience, Star, he is needed to battle the Loa.¡± Vandercross pointed at an aerial battle that was taking place between their summoner Rommath against Jan''alai, and Kael¡¯Thas.
¡°Our summoner brought back a potions expert with shoddy ingredients to work with.¡± Starbottle grumbled. ¡°Fine Vandercross, this is your big day. I''ll show that boy of yours why alchemy is the greatest magic!¡± Starbottle grinned madly to herself as she began to mutter an incantation over her brew.
¡°Earthwarder, protect Star, and harass the other fights from a distance. Be aware that they have a lieutenant ranger in their ranks. I do not want a repeat incident like last time. Meanwhile, I shall buy us time for Star¡¯s potion to reach completion.¡± Vandercross said over his shoulder.
¡°It was one time! You can rely on me. No camouflage or invisibility is getting past my earth sense!¡± Earthwarder, a rare green haired Elf, stuck his face out of the golem¡¯s toe, and grinned down at Vandercross from 10ft up.
¡°Just go be with your boy, Vandercross! This will be the last time you see him after all!¡± Starbottle cackled as she added a pinch of lemon into the bubbling pot.
Vandercross felt his cheek twitch, but didn''t deign any of his colleagues'' antics with a response.
Managing this group of Heroes was like babysitting a group of monkeys at the zoo. They were proof that just because they were the strongest, didn''t make them the most fit to rule.
Vandercross prayed that whatever form the Convocation had taken on in this new era, that Varrus didn''t have to deal with the same competing interests of self entitled Highborn focused on stroking their own egos.
Withholding a sigh, Vandercross reigned in his disappointment at his compatriots lack of decorum, and instead allowed a small, measured smile as he floated towards Varrus and his wife Syra.
For thousands of years, Vandercross had remained fatherless. His whole focus was on maintaining the stability of Quel''Thalas, and holding onto his office.
At first, he had resented the Sunstriders. Simply for the fact that his childhood friend turned rival had come across a vial containing waters from the Well of Eternity which led to him being proclaimed King.
But after centuries of bitter lawfair, and petty battles ranging from contests in fashion to dueling one another via proxies or conducting assassinations, a change in leadership arose once his childhood friend, Anasterian rose to sit upon the Phoenix Throne.
This peace between him and the crown was all thanks to a mutual childhood friend of theirs, Faedra.
The young girl who had followed Anastarian and him everywhere, and tagged along for their adventures had cemented herself as the glue that bound him and Anasterian together.
Anasterian was feeling buyer''s remorse from the political marriage he had with his first wife, Lana''thel. His children under her care had grown to exemplify the very worst traits found amongst Highborn. Prideful, arrogant, unknowing of the struggle the older generation went through to claim these lands, they took for granted the privilege that Vandercross and Anastarian had fought for.
So Faedra hatched a scheme to produce Anastarian a new heir, as well as a bridge to connect the two feuding friends.
In her family tree, women always gave birth to twins. With a bit of magic, the gender could be manipulated.
And so, to facilitate his part in this scheme, Vandercross had come to call himself father.
He admitted to himself that he had indulged the child, ignorant as to the finer intricacies of parenthood. Vandercross thought to allow the boy a century or two to sow his wild oats, then he would get down to instructing him in his family magic.
Little did Vandercross know, the child he had raised had grown up so fast! Just last month, Varrus was causing trouble on the boardwalk, and complaints flooded Vandercross¡¯s office due to his son¡¯s playboy antics. Now he was tossing out meteorites like candy on Hallow''s End.
The shock, anger, and awe Vandercross felt at this hidden talent was a concoction of emotions that left Vandercross dazed, yet above all else, proud.
Withholding a sigh, Vandercross felt regret that he could not spend more time with this child of his. Eight thousand years of political maneuvering, and yet their time spent together was not even a 50th of his life.
As he levitated towards his son, he saw the love, care, and concern on his, and Syra''s faces, and he couldn''t be more happy with his decision.
They threw everything at him in an effort to stop his advance, only endearing them in his heart. The more they tried to kill him, the more satisfied he became with their ever escalating means of attack.
Meteorites, slashes of Holy Void sword cuts, and a dozen other desperate magical attacks flew at Vandercross in a flurry as he hovered ever nearer.
Vandercross threw up a Mana Stone, intercepting a meteorite. Not only the fire element was absorbed, but also the momentum behind the attack.
He then released this pent up energy back at Varrus with a wave of his hand.
Fire and brimstone collided with the Holy Void crescent sword slash Syra sent at him, causing a massive explosion.
Vandercross snapped his fingers, and a mirror-like armor of crystalline Mana Stones coated his form just in time to defend against a surprise attack coming from above.
Whilst he had been occupied with Syra''s unique mixture of powers, Varrus had unleashed a giant fireball atop Vandercross''s head.
¡°And the Sun rises!¡± Varrus shouted in dramatic fashion as he brought the spell down.
The night sky was pierced by this giant, spinning orb of death, and was aglow with the sight of fiery demise.
Vandercross minutely nodded his head in respect as he could sense the power and magnitude coursing through that fireball based solely on the density of mana it contained.
For the first time, Vandercross treated Varrus as a threat, and countered this grand spell with one of his own.
Previously, Vandercross had been throwing up a Mana Stone here and there acting as a shield to absorb an attack. This time, he had taken that same concept, and magnified it 100x.
A jagged mountain of a Mana Stone formed out from under Vandercross as he completed a quick chant.
Its form was hollow, and lacking in any real mana like a true Mana Stone, however its internal crystalline structure made it ideal for absorbing large amounts of energy.
When the giant ball of sunlight collided with Vandercross¡¯s jagged mountain, fire exploded everywhere in a cataclysmic eruption reminiscent of a volcano''s anger.
Glass, heat, debris, and flame flowed all around Vandercross. He stood still with his eyes wide open, and took in the beautiful destruction from the safety of his crystalline armor.
The formerly translucent white mountain had now become red, like a true volcano. That same fiery energy coursed throughout his armor, empowering Vandercross with fire elemental magic.
Drawing upon the flames in the mini mountain, Vandercross conjured a thousand Fire Elementals, and commanded that they all charged at Varrus.
He then drew his shortsword, and slowly levitated towards the girl who had married his son.
¡°I will make you proud, father Vandercross.¡± Syra saluted with her giant buster sword.
Vandercross composed himself, and made sure to adopt a look of aloof indifference.
¡°You are promising, young lady. Most impressive indeed. Now let us see if your steel is as spectacular as your feat of achieving the mixture of Holy and Void.¡± Vandercross bowed, then lunged forward, blade in hand.
Chapter 65
Syra was, for the first time in a long time, nervous. Not because of Vandercross¡¯s reputation as the First Seat, or due to any fear of battle.
She was worried, because her father-in-law obviously had a deep and caring love for Varrus, and she would hate to disappoint the only other male that Varrus was allowed to associate with.
¡°Do not be worried. You are a Vandercross, now. Welcome to the family!¡±
Syra felt her ear tips turn red in embarrassment, yet at the same time, she felt the warmth of acceptance in her heart.
¡°I will not disappoint you, Varrus.¡± Syra said meaningfully to herself as she clutched her buster sword with an ever growing determination.
The roar of a thousand Fire Elementals briefly distracted her, and she couldn''t help but glance at Varrus to see how he was doing. Her worry for herself, and embarrassment evaporated in an instant as the scent of danger entered her system.
Varrus needed her!
¡°Focus now, Syra. I am attacking with an overhead, into a stab.¡± Vandercross intoned as he dashed at her.
Syra inhaled sharply, and took in the rapidly approaching man to be nothing more than an enemy in her beloved¡¯s path. Pushing aside the complicated feelings and other thoughts, she focused on all that truly mattered.
Varrus.
So long as he and her were happy, then she would do anything for him. Even if it meant taking out his father, so that he didn''t have to experience that pain himself.
Dashing forward in a display of incredible speed, Syra kicked up a mini dust storm as she moved to meet Vandercross¡¯s attack.
The Elder Elf was still levitating whilst he made an attack of his own, and was much faster than if he had used his legs.
Despite her speed enchantments, Syra barely had enough time to react to Vandercross¡¯s clearly telegraphed attack. His shirt sword went exactly as he had said, yet he moved in such a way that his posture and timing had Syra left guessing when and where he would strike.
Syra dodged the overhead by twisting her body sideways, then batted away the stab with her massive weapon.
However, the attack intended to brute force away the shortsword with her much larger weapon failed when a crystalline edge erupted from Vandercross¡¯s blade, and locked her sword in place.
At the same time, Vandercross reached out with his offhand, and cast an instant spell. Five miniature crystal arrowheads shot out of his fingertips at nearly point blank range.
Syra at this time had a constant aura around her known as Devotion Aura, which increased her defense, and blocked lesser attacks.
The arrowhead crystal attack had its speed dampened from this aura, however, they flashed like so many of Vandercross¡¯s Mana Stone techniques, and absorbed some of the ambient mana within the aura, allowing the tiny crystals to penetrate this defensive structure with ease.
Syra didn''t rely solely on this defensive mechanism, and after watching Varrus hurl meteorites at Vandercross, knew that the crystalline magic could be overwhelmed if enough mana was pumped into them.
Instead of making another shield, or relying on the constant shroud of Light that surrounded her body, she went all out on offense.
Her sword lit up with gold and purple energy as she unleashed the terrifying hunger of the Holy Void.
Light and Void magics intertwined, forming a devouring effect on her weapon.
The crystal locking their blades together disintegrated into nothing, and Syra grinned as she pushed her power forward.
Golden purple energy gushed forth like a tsunami, utterly erasing the crystalline arrowheads, and threatening to overwhelm Vandercross.
It was now her father-in-law who was forced on the defensive. His mirror-like armor took the brunt of her attack. It turned black like necrotic flesh, then split off from his body falling to the ground like a lizard shedding its skin.
The entire mirror armor had been destroyed, but Vandercross remained unharmed.
¡°Clever girl. I want to see more of this Holy Void. Light has the corruptive properties of making one want to sacrifice themselves for the many. Whilst Void makes one want to sacrifice the many to empower themselves. Light opens one up to healing, protection, and unconditional love. Void opens one up to mutation, destruction, and self-doubt. I am impressed by their combination! I truly, truly am happy you married Varrus. I could think of no more a perfect woman than you, Syra.¡± Vandercross said sternly, yet his words carried a hidden warmth of a gruff father who was truly proud.
Syra wanted to ignore the compliment, but all her life, those who spoke well of her had wanted something from her. Whether it be her blade or her body. However, just like when Varrus praised her, she could tell that Vandercross was genuine.
Holding a hand up to her cheek, she was surprised to find a small trickle of liquid dripping down.
¡°Ah, mine daughter, thou hast been so deprived by that vile witch, Faedra that authentic praise ist so alien?¡± Vandercross said with a sad smile as his sword came at her in an ever increasing flurry of dangerous cuts.
¡°No.¡± Syra unconvincingly replied whilst she parried his attacks, and was pressed back.
Vandercross locked blades with her once more, causing sparks to fly into the night sky.
Leaning in close, Vandercross had a look of loving pity across his face.
A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
¡°Have confidence. Less than 10 Elves in all of Quel''Thalas could match blades with me like this. You are but a sampling less than 100 years old.¡± The Highlord then flip kicked backwards, and hovered in the air, pointing his blade at her. ¡°Take pride. You are a Vandercross!¡± The Highlord''s magically enhanced, magnetic voice boomed across the battlefield.
¡°He is right, my love! Hold out but a moment longer. I shall join you shortly!¡± Varrus boomed back in reply.
Syra felt the tears on her face dry as she witnessed snowflakes and moonlight spill upon her husband.
The chill frost of his magic, and ethereal grace of his form lit a fire in her heart.
Gripping her sword with a renewed resolve, it was Syra''s turn to go on the offense!
¡°Atta girl! This is the dignity of a Vandercross! To never bow, to remain unbroken in the face of tragedy! Come, Syra, immerse me in your newfound mastery of the Holy Void. Demonstrate your new magic that will shake the very foundations of Azeroth. Make Varrus proud!¡± The Highlord grandly gestured, then bowed towards Syra.
The warmth of love entered Syra''s heart. This was it. The feeling of belonging she had yearned for all her life. The experience of being part of a family.
Sparing a glance at Varrus, she knew what she needed, and she would not be denied!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Whilst Syra was enjoying emotional support from the first father figure to enter her life, Varrus was facing off against a thousand Fire Elementals that were powered by his own Master tier spell + whatever other nonsense Vandercross had added to the mix.
¡®This is some serious bullshit!¡¯ Varrus complained to himself as he Blinked out of the way of a jet of flames.
The ground where he had stood was nothing more than molten slag, but Varrus didn''t have any time to consider it as the overwhelming number of Fire Elementals constantly bombarded him from all angles.
Due to the compact nature of an army storming a beach, he could eliminate all the Trolls he fought last week with little effort, by spraying the ground with a Wall of Flames spell.
Unlike the Trolls, however, these Elementals could hover off the floor, and were spread out.
Furthermore, they were unafraid, and lacked the chaos of an entire battlefield to divert their attention. There was no reprieve, or hiding behind the Crossguard¡¯s shields as 10,000 pairs of eyes were focused solely on Varrus''s demise!
However, that didn''t mean that he was defenseless!
Varrus was an AOE machine! So long as he could fight against trash mobs, or even a mixed group of Elites like these Elementals seemed to be, he had confidence! So long as there were no Heroes hidden in the mix, or acting as the primary spearhead of attack, Varrus had the confidence to wipe the floor with these annoying Elementals!
But first, he needed a second of reprieve so that he could unleash hell. With the constant bombardment and unending deluge of attacks, Varrus didn''t have much room to think, much less counterattack.
Since he needed a little space, Varrus tossed up his newest spell. Brick Building. After consulting with the architect the other day, Varrus had ¡®borrowed¡¯ some books on construction magic, and ¡®ate¡¯ them a¡¯la Skyrim system for their knowledge.
Casting the spell, Varrus pulled a few thousand bricks from his inventory, and constructed a cylindrical tower. A white protective film coated each of them due to the protective enchantments, and they seamlessly fused together like Legos interlocking.
It wasn''t very tall, coming at a height of the average two-story house. Nor was it very wide, being the width of Varrus''s entire wingspan. However, it was thick. A dozen bricks made up the walls of the structure, giving it a powerful support.
The constant rain of fireballs, gushes of flamethrower-like attacks, and other variations of fire magic superheated the structure, making Varrus feel like he was being cooked alive.
The tower stood strong, however, even if it was made from powerful materials, and enchanted by the equivalent of Common Soul gems, 10,000 simultaneous firestrikes were 10,000 firestrikes, and it would only be a matter of time before the tower fell to the Elementals.
In the meantime, Varrus refrained from deploying his Dwarven Autocannon''s, because they shot fireballs too, and fighting a Fire Elemental with literal fire seemed like the height of folly.
Instead, Varrus cast Invisibility, and crawled out of a small crevice at the back of the tower.
The noise created from the fireballs colliding with the tower sent Varrus''s ears ringing, yet none of the Elementals were wise to his escape. He even heard a level up for his Sneak skill whilst he moved to a spot bereft of the fiery aspirations.
For good measure, he cast the Illusion spell Vanish, to make sure that he was hidden.
Vanish: All nearby opponents targeting the caster or searching for the caster leave combat.
During this time, he saw the tower continue to take a beating, and begin to slowly melt, and crumble, but Varrus felt pride knowing that it had served its purpose. For such a small structure to survive such a concentrated bombardment from the equivalent of 10,000 WW2 howitzer artillery pieces, he could only admire his craftsmanship.
However, now that he was in a position hidden from view, he could safely cast one of his Master tier spells.
For this large battlefield taking place in the massive crater in/around the broken Sunwell, there was an opportunity for Varrus to unleash the terrifying might of a nearly uncontrollable AOE spell. This was a rare opportunity where he did not need to concern himself with the safety of his allies. Varrus could think of no better spell more fitting for the occasion, than the vanilla Skyrim spell, Blizzard.
From within the cloak of invisibility, Varrus dropped down a storm of ice and snow the likes of which had not been seen on this continent since the Sunwell transformed Quel''Thalas into a land of eternal Spring.
The Fire Elementals who had just finished up blasting the tower in their mindless pursuit of violence were caught unaware by the frost nova.
Shards of magically enhanced ice diced through their flame born forms, stole the heat from under them, and in some cases, froze them solid.
Some Fire Elementals were like the victims of a mosquito trapped in sap, or a caveman locked forever. Despite their ethereal forms, the concept of cold in Varrus¡¯s magic was so potent, that these conflagratory creations collapsed as nothing more than chunks of ice.
Varrus breathed in the storm as it surrounded him, and felt a near brush with death as his spell twisted and churned around him like a cobra eager to escape its box, or a lion tugging on a chain.
Once Blizzard left his fingertips, the very ecosystem around him transformed into a landscape of endless winter.
As the progenitor of this magic, he stood in the eye of the storm, and slight ring of safety no more than an arms length separated him from a cold death.
Breathing out a fogged breath, Varrus gulped as the spell subsided.
Where once there was rocks, and the debris of broken buildings, there was now only snow.
There was no sight of the Fire Elementals, nor of any imminent danger.
However, upon the completion of his magic, Varrus noticed that the rest of the participants in this grand battle had paused for a moment, eying him with caution.
The silence was broken as a pair of combatants were the first to re-engage in their fight.
¡°That''s my husband!¡± Syra said from a distance as her buster sword met Vandercross¡¯s short sword.
¡°And my son!¡± Vandercross matched her raised voice as they continued to clash.
Varrus rolled his eyes at them, but couldn''t help but smile. Whatever kind of crazy family this was, he wouldn''t have it any other way.
Chapter 66
As soon as Varrus finished with the Fire Elementals, and everyone had resumed their respective battles, he noticed that the colossal golem was playing a less than active role in the fight.
Oh sure, it was hurling stones, and stomping the ground here and there, but it was in support of other theaters of combat.
Squinting his eyes, Varrus spotted a beautiful silver haired lady working over a cauldron at the base of the crater.
He didn''t know what specifically was going on, but he knew from experiencing many wipes in video games that she was up to no good. An enemy didn''t stand still in the midst of a grand engagement like this unless they were preparing for some ritual. Furthermore, the golem''s seeming inaction only furthered Varrus''s speculation that something was up.
Varrus glanced at his wife, and determined that she was holding out well enough, and that he should put a stop to whatever scheme the witch had brewing in her pot.
For an opponent that was seemingly locked in a static position, Volcano was his spell of choice.
Volcano: Creates a volcanic eruption at the target location that spits out 8 lava bombs per second for 10 seconds.
It wasn''t a particularly effective spell against mobile targets, but it had the benefit of erupting from the target location. Most of Varrus''s magical attacks were spawned directly in front of him, or within a few feet.
Volcano was such a sinister spell because it was effective wherever Varrus had line of sight, and there was ground.
Varrus was about to complete this Master tier Destruction spell, when suddenly he felt a massive swell of Holy Void energy coming from his right. It left a copper taste in his mouth, and reminded him of the mental fugue he experienced when Kith''ix was summoned, but different.
He thought about canceling his spell so that he could react to whatever was going on, because that energy source was coming from Syra''s side of the battlefield!
However, before he could retract his hands, he felt a body collide with him, sending them both in a tumble across the ice slicked earth.
At the same time, the magic in his hands went awry, and he felt a piercing headache as he was forced to cancel his spell midcast. Unlike a video game character from Skyrim, failure to cast magic in the real world had consequences.
Varrus was fortunate to only have a headache, as some spells when miscast could have one suffer dire consequences. Blink, for example, could have a person merge with furniture, or the walls.
If he checked his status, he would see the negative effect: [Magical Disorientation: All spells increased cast time 0.2-3 seconds. Slight headache & mental haziness.]
In addition to his headache, Varrus was confused from the impact that had rocked him backwards. He found himself sliding along the snowy landscape like a penguin gliding across the ice on its belly.
The body in his arms had a familiar scent, and pretty blonde hair.
Blinking away some colored spots due to his magical disorientation, Varrus recognized the person as his wife!
Bleeding from her torso + shoulder, and coughing up some purplish-golden goo, Syra was a sight for sore eyes.
Varrus wanted to hold her, throw a blanket over her shoulder, and tell her everything was going to be okay after a quick healing session.
However, despite the damage done to her, she wore her signature mad grin. Which told Varrus that his wife was far from out of the fight. Despite being on the crazy side, her fortitude, and desire to win was up there with the greatest sports competitors like Kobe Bryant or Michael Jordan. Varrus couldn''t help but admire her overwhelming drive.
Shoving her buster sword into the ice beneath them, she halted their momentum, and caught Varrus in an embrace.
¡°Syra, are you doing well, my Sun?¡± Varrus said in concern.
Syra wordlessly replied with a grunt, then grabbed Varrus for a rough kiss along the lips. The taste of the Holy Void goo made Varrus want to wretch, and push her away, however, the relieved emotion, and intense feelings Syra was transmitting towards him had him reluctantly return her embrace.
Her tongue explored the inside of his mouth for a minute more, before she pulled slightly away, only to clunk her forehead onto his forehead, and breath intensely whilst staring him in the eyes.
It was then that Varrus noticed her heterochromia. One eye was golden like usual, and the other was purple, indicating exposure to the Void.
Now it had come as a shock to learn that his wife was practicing one of the forbidden magicks, but if Vandercross was to be trusted, Syra had somehow found a way to safely act as a vessel containing the two contrary powers. Which under ordinary circumstances would be a moment of celebration, great cheer, and a heavy round of love making.
However, these were extraordinary circumstances, and what Varrus saw concerned him. Syra was acting even more intense than usual!
¡°Varrus! Varrus Varrus Varrus! You''re alive!¡± Syra all but growled as tears fell down her face, and she checked his body all over for injury, and carressed every nook and cranny of his body.
¡°Yes, yes my love, I am not going anywhere.¡± Varrus comforted her, all the while, he let his eyes roam, ever vigilant for an ambush.
As much distaste as Varrus had for this changed eye color trope, at least it should be temporary once Syra returned to normal. If he had to view things from a meta standpoint, then Syra likely unlocked some hidden new power, like when a shounen protagonist unlocked his demon biology.
¡®Would that make Syra the main character?¡¯ Varrus wanted to chuckle at this postulation, but couldn''t find the will at the moment, as Syra was absolutely out of it.
Furthermore, through his Mana Sight, he could see that she was outputting far more energy than what she usually did. Not only that, but it seemed that her internal mana pool was constantly eating away at itself, and simultaneously regenerating, like some kind of ouroboros.
Catching a glimpse of her face, Varrus knew that she must be enduring great pain. These types of transformations always carried with them a heavy burden.
¡°Allow me to heal this wound.¡± Varrus motioned towards her shoulder, only to be slightly surprised as it healed itself.
Syra was not skilled in healing magic whatsoever. Varrus could only attribute this healing factor to this new state of being.
However, like all Shounen transformations, Syra seemed to have a time limit in place, and her chest was heaving as she rested in Varrus'' embrace.
¡°Shh, shh, I''m alright, I''m alive.
¡°What a remarkable transformation, and a touching display of love.¡± Vandercross slowly clapped as he levitated elegantly across the snow covered wasteland.
Varrus hatefully glared at Vandercross for what he had driven Syra to do.
¡°Oh don''t give me that look, the girl walked down this path herself. I merely gave her a little push to unlock her potential. Besides, she hardly received the worst wounds from our exchange.¡± Vandercross softly intoned. His 1930¡¯s radio voice almost seemed to lull Varrus into a false sense of cordiality.
Furthermore, as Vandercross spoke, he dropped a portion of the crystalline mirror armor coating his form, and revealed that half of his face had become sunken, and sallow, like a true zombie. In addition to that, he was completely bereft of his left leg.
If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.
Varrus could only open his mouth in stunned silence. He always knew that Syra was strong, but to do that to Vandercross?! One of the strongest and eldest of the Highborn?
¡°Yes, I shared a similar expression when she released her dormant powers. I was testing her devotion to you, to see if she was the right fit for my son. Imagine Syra''s shock when you went invisible, and undetected. I knew better, but she thought you were dead.¡±
¡°Ah, that tracks.¡± Varrus nodded like it made all the sense in the world.
¡°You seem unsurprised by Syra''s behavior. Congratulations, son, you were truly meant for her.¡± Vandercross finished his statement by lunging at Varrus with his shortsword.
His speed was incredible, and Varrus only had enough time thanks to the hidden boost in Agility thanks to leveling his Stamina in the Skyrim UI.
Varrus held no illusions that he could match a man who could injure Syra with a blade, so he threw Syra on his back, and Blinked away in a random direction.
Varrus wanted to buy some time so he could heal Syra, or deposit her somewhere else so that he could fight Vandercross without worry.
¡°I''ll drop you off at home.¡± Varrus whispered to Syra, only for her to tightly grip his shoulder.
¡°We''ll take him together. Give me 5 minutes.¡± Syra growled in determination, then began to absorb a Mana Stone she had taken from her pouch.
Varrus sighed, then began thinking up ways to buy time. The elemental wall spells were a good idea, but the old man could levitate. Furthermore, his Mana Crystal magic allowed Vandercross to absorb any type of magic.
What Varrus needed was to alter the environment. He recalled at the beginning of the fight when the dust had coated the lip of the crater due to the golem¡¯s attack, Vandercross could not clear it, and had one of his compatriots handle the issue.
Whilst he fled backwards constantly dodging crystal arrowheads moving as fast as bullets, and crystal skewers spawning out from underneath him, he thought up a plan.
He then began to spray out Wall of Flames with his off-hand all over the ground. The heat met the snow, creating steam that obfuscated their sight. In addition, the heavy amount of mana in the air from the spell Wall of Flames spell diminished Mana Sights ability, creating an effective counter Elf camouflage.
¡°Innovative discovery, son. The steam was non-magical, yet the flames were. Wherever did you learn your craft?¡± Vandercross¡¯s voice boomed through the mist.
Varrus took this opportunity to cast Dispel Magic on Syra as well as himself to remove any harmful side effects. At the same time, he hoped that the light from the spell remained unseen.
Dispel Magic: Dispels all magical effects (except diseases) on friends and foes.
Seeing the purple leave her eye, Varrus exhaled in relief, and gently stroked Syra''s hair.
However, instead of a smile, he was greeted with a hand to the face, pushing him to the side.
Syra''s sword raised up from the ground, blocking Vandercross as he thrusted downward.
Spiderweb cracks scattered across the ice as Sura was pushed deep into the ground.
Varrus saw red as his wife was unable to raise herself off from the floor, and he responded to Vandercross¡¯s attack by gripping him in telekinesis.
Vandercross was caught off guard, and had his momentum utterly cease as he was locked in place.
¡°Once again you''ve foiled my unique brand of magic, Varrus. Keen eye to have spotted its weakness to unattributed magic. However, could you satisfy a truant father''s curiosity? You never did tell me who your instructor was.¡± Vandercross said, arching an eyebrow as if he didn''t care that he had been caught.
¡°I''m self taught.¡± Varrus tersely replied, before he began to ragdoll Vandercross into the icy ground again and again, and again.
Breathing heavily from releasing the pent up emotions, Varrus sighed in relief when Syra pulled herself out of a pit, and stood by his side like nothing had happened.
He then pulled Vandercross out of the ice, and held him away at more than 10ft. It was a distance close enough to converse, yet far enough away to protect him from any unforeseen shenanigans.
Ordinarily, Varrus wouldn''t stop and risk an escape, however, Vandercross was a wealth of knowledge. Now would be his only opportunity to question him.
But before Varrus could get a word in edgewise, Syra spoke first.
¡°Thank you for unlocking my potential.¡± Syra said shyly from Varrus¡¯s back.
¡°Please, call me papi, and it was no trouble at all, daughter mine. Take note, son, give freely, and be repaid in kindness. I did not last this long on personal power alone. Reputation and perception are just as important to managing a kingdom as the might of the sword.¡± Vandercross dispensed his advice whilst nodding in appreciation of Syra¡¯s thanks.
¡°That explains the rise of my acting career.¡± Varrus stated sarcastically, and rolled his eyes.
¡°Papi is a sentimental man. You will understand when you have children of your own one day.¡± Vandercross nodded towards Syra, to which she turned away and blushed.
¡®Oi! You so happily told me you wanted 12 children, but when this old charismatic man implies such, you turn away!?¡¯ Varrus internally scoffed at Syra¡¯s shy, schoolgirl behavior.
¡°That¡¯s besides the point. How come you didn''t teach me any magic? Why didn''t you aid the Humans against the Scourge?¡± Varrus questioned hotly.
¡°To answer your first question is simple. The events of the Orcish invasion began when you were in your 20''s. It was a time of strife and war that had not visited these lands in ages. I did not have the time, nor inclination to see you tutored. I was worried that a hot headed youth, proud of learning his father''s unique magic, would find himself in an early grave. I have lived a long time, son. Call it selfishness, but I could not live with myself if my own kin had perished so innocent and young.¡± Vandercross shook his head in sorrow.
Varrus held back any hot retort as he saw genuine care and discomfort spread across Vandercross¡¯s face. It seemed that despite being somewhat distant, like a CEO dad that was always busy, he at least cared.
However, why did the Highborn stay out of the Third War?
¡°As to your second question, are you aware of the Guardians of Tirisfal?¡± Vandercross questioned.
¡°Vaguely. I know that the Guardians were an institution of Archmages that empowered one individual with a portion of their power to combat the Legion. That the most recent Guardian, Medivh, went mad, and opened the Dark Portal, connecting our world to Draenor, the planet of the Orcs. Which led to the Second War, and the destruction of Stormwind.¡± Varrus answered, confused with what this had to do with anything.
¡°An apt summary, my boy. The Guardians were an institution founded by an Elf. One Magus Alodi, a friend of mine. He became the first Guardian, and instituted term limits, so that the awesome power would not corrupt any one recipient.
Knowing the greed of Humans, I thought him mad. Centuries later, I was proven right when the latest Guardian, Aegwyn refused to release her powers to the next in line. Instead, her son inheriting her power caused a great uproar amongst magical society, setting a precedent of inherited power, essentially creating a new dynasty of Mage Kings overnight. Threatening our dominion over magic.
This soured Elven and Human relations entirely. It was only due to our debt to the First King of the Humans that we even deigned to answer the call to war against the Orcs. Blaming the Humans for their folly, we saw the Scourge as punishment for their greed and lust for power.
To answer your question son, it was pride and arrogance that ultimately led to our demise. However, without the traitor lurking in our ranks, Silvermoon would remain unbleached. The barrier we created with the power of the Sunwell was impenetrable. If I have any advice to you, it would be to vet your allies routinely, because all it takes is one dagger in the back for it all to come toppling down.¡±
Varrus was blank faced when he learned of the revelation. Unsurprisingly, it was Elven pride and arrogance that saw them refuse to aid the Humans.
Although at least he had some context now. It sort of made sense when Vandercross framed it like that. The Guardian, Medivh had seriously fucked over all of Azeroth by opening the Dark Portal. It was understandable that the Elves were a little salty that the servants of the Burning Legion were raping, and pillaging the people and the land. All due to a so-called guardian of the planet.
Plus, the Sunwell literally was a font of nearly limitless power. Who would be worried from millions of Undead when the barrier was unbreakable?
Varrus opened his mouth to ask more questions, however, he felt a shift in the ground, breaking his concentration. A moment later, Syra grabbed him, and dodged an earth spike that emerged from his position.
¡°You don''t have much more time, son. Starbottle is almost finished with her spell, and your companions are running on thin ice. You must push harder if you wish to win.¡± Vandercross stated with sincerity.
At that moment, the mist and dust cleared, and the moonlight revealed a harrowing sight.
His companions were all locked in death defying combat, however, what really struck a chord in Varrus''s throat was the vast farm of Mana Crystals stacked all around them as far as the eye could see.
All along, Varrus thought he had Vandercross right where he wanted him. However, reality proved further from the truth.
The entire time they had been fighting, Mana Stones had been sprouting from the ground, and were thrown around by Vandercross like crazy. Varrus had paid them no mind, as he was deep in the throes of combat.
But these Mana Stones did not simply disappear! Oh no, they had been absorbing ambient mana, and growing brighter, thicker and taller in size. Resembling stalagmites that had grown in a cave for eons, these Mana Crystals dotted the Sunwell''s crater. and pulsed with untold energy.
To make matters worse, the alchemist in the center seemed to be almost done with her ritual!
If Varrus didn''t hurry, then both he, and the rest of his companions would not make it out of this crater alive!
¡°Time is ticking, my son. You had best come at me with everything you''ve got. Otherwise there won''t be much of an island to fight upon.¡±
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter 67
(Happening concurrently with Varrus¡¯s first battle)
Whilst Varrus and Syra were facing off against Vandercross, the rest of his party were engaged in fierce mortal combat against their respective foes as well.
Lor''Themar was playing a game of cat and mouse where he and Lireesa Windrunner repeatedly sniped at one another from camouflage, and ambushed one another with elemental traps. Through the millenia, they had trained together like this, to sharpen one another''s reflexes, eventually sewing the bonds of trust, and love.
Now, however, there was nothing but scorn and hatred radiating off of the Windrunner matriarch. If the rest of the Undead Convocation members could be said to be going through the motions, and acting only so much as the binding magic enforced upon them. Then Lireesa was pouring every ounce of her vitriol into every attack, with the determination to enact pain upon Lor''Themar with extreme prejudice.
The negative emotions associated with Death magic only made her more unstable than she ever was in life, and served to empower her newfound command over Death magic greater than any of her compatriots.
It was during this battle of hidden strikes in the dark that found Lor''Themar cautiously advancing forward. Arrow notched, and ears strained to the maximum, the current Ranger General had his eyes wide as he tracked down any trace of his former lover.
As a ranger, he, along with every other skilled practitioner knew a few inscriptions. By carving this magical script into a stone, wall, or bear trap, a ranger could set up the perfect ambush. Already, she had stumbled out of one of his little surprises, driving her into hiding. Now it was Lor''Themar''s turn to flush her out.
Discovering the remains of a faint mana trail, Lor''Themar knew it to be a trap, yet if he was to draw out the furious lady, then he would have to step into the jaws of danger.
Taking a breath to steady himself. He didn''t know the precise location of the script, as rangers had learnt how to place their traps into a state of stealth. A split second distraction, and he would meet a terrible demise.
Every hair on Lor''Themar''s arm stood erect, yet he refused to shiver in the night''s cold. Moonlight spilled across jagged rocks in scattered beams of light due to some clouds in the sky. It was when the light darkened over his position entirely that he felt a slight shift in the earth that should not be.
Lor''Themar moved on instinct, and was forced to dodge roll forward as he felt something erupt from underneath.
A moment later, the area where Lor''Themar had stood a moment ago was encased in a solid block of ice. The solid ice was large enough to encase a Tauren, and then imploded a second later. If Lor''Themar had been inside, his bones and organs would have been crushed by overwhelming force, then pierced with shards of ice.
He didn''t have time to think about such a gruesome fate, as he was under attack the moment the trap had missed.
During his dodge roll, Lor''Themar shot off an arrow, intercepting Lireesa''s arrow aimed for his chest. He then twisted midair, evading a second arrow, and switched weapons in one fluid motion to deflect the third and final arrow.
Coming out of his motion, his twin swords cut in a cross slash, pressing downward against Lireesa''s own twin blades. He leveraged his superior height and momentum to press her backwards.
The duo skidded across loose rocks, and errant flecks of snowfall melted in their hair.
Black tears oozed from Lireesa''s darkened eyes, and Lor''Themar remained solemn on the surface. His heart ached like never before, but if someone had to put down the love of his life, he wouldn''t allow Vandercross or Sunstrider to interfere.
Even if every sword slash was a thorn in his heart, he would not, could not waver.
This was his burden alone.
¡°You always excelled at the sword, Lor''Themar.¡± Lireesa said bitterly as she was pressed backward ever more. Small cuts and nicks began to accumulate on her arms as Lor''Themar came ever closer to ending the fight.
¡°It was all thanks to your instruction.¡± Lor''Themar humbly replied, his intonation full of genuine respect.
¡°Lor''Themar, my perfect Vice General¡why is it you standing in front of me instead of Sylvanas!¡± Lireesa started off soothingly, only to yell in agony a moment later.
¡°I am sorry, Lireesa.¡± Lor''Themar sighed, as he knocked her weapons from her hands, then swiped at her neck.
Before his blade could connect, Lireesa shifted backward, and her body began to take on a smoky quality. The snow shook, and moonlight played off her ghostly form, revealing the true horror that lay beneath.
Black gas oozed from her pours, and her face, so full of life, turned completely pale, and her lips cold. Her hands took on the shape of claws, and her hair, once radiant and golden, transformed into ethereal white wisps that seemed to have a life of their own.
¡°Oh Lireesa.¡± Lor''Themar said in sorrow at what his Hero and idle had become.
¡°Sylvanas, Varessa, Alleria, Zandarin. You were their protector Lor''Themar. Your failure is punishable by an eternity of torment!¡± Lireesa howled with an unholy timbre that reverberated across the battlefield.
Her banshees howl discombobulated Lor''Themar, causing him to lose his balance, and feel as if there were 5 mirror images of the monster in front of him.
Stumbling to his left like a drunkard, Lor''Themar raised his sword to parry aside a claw, only to strike at air.
He felt a cold hand pierce his torso, yet no blood was drawn. Instead, the ghostly apparition tore into the mana within his body, and struck directly at his soul!
Where an eruption of gore should have spilt out from his chest, instead a patch of necrotic flesh spread forth. A small tumor of mutating scar tissue sprang up like a cancerous growth.
The tumor pulsed, and Lor''Themar felt foul necrosis spread throughout his body. Icy hot liquid pulsed with every beat of his heart, spreading the cursed wound down his arteries, and back through his veins. His limbs felt like they were on fire, and he almost fell to his knees, the pain was so intense.
¡°That is but a taste of the torment you have put me through.¡± Lireesa softly intoned as she floated by Lor''Themar¡¯s ear.
Her hair caressed his cheek, leaving a small laceration, as well as a black line of Death energy.
Lor''Themar gasped as his retaliatory swing went wide.
¡°Hahahaha.¡± Lor''Themar began to chuckle as he finally collapsed to one knee. His hand closed in on a locket within his pocket. It was her gift to him so long ago when they first gifted tokens of love to one another.
He took it out, and held onto it with a dazed expression.
¡°Yes, your suffering is quite amusing, isn''t it? Look, you can barely lift your left hand. How can you fight without your dominant arm crippled so? This token of affection is touching, but it will not save you. There is no mercy for you, my little shoe carver. Come, let me give you a kiss for old times sake.¡± Lireesa said playfully, and hovered over him.
¡°Oh, I am not begging for mercy. I am laughing because I know something you do not know.¡± Lor''Themar chuckled.
¡°And what is that? Don''t tell me it is something as droll as to never prank a 5,000 year old ranger? I''ve heard that one before.¡± Lireesa cooed dangerously as she drew closer. Gripping his cheeks, she lowered herself to plant a kiss of death on his lips, however, she was pushed back by a white barrier.
¡°No, I am chuckling, because I am not left handed.¡± Lor''Themar winked, and called his bound sword into his waiting grasp like Thor calls his hammer.
Blinking in shocked surprise, Lireesa poured more Death energy into her lips, and went down for another kiss in a desperate attempt to finish it all. However, she was blocked once more by the magic of the amulet, and for her trouble, caught a sword through her chest, staking her to the ground.
Holy Light was being transmitted from the locket, and being absorbed by Lor''Themar, reversing his wounds, and purging the curse from his system.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.
¡°How-¡±
You are no longer the Lady I admired, and those are not my children. You left me for another man to pursue politics, and promoted your daughter above me. If you¡¯re so curious about this amulet, you can ask Vandercross all about his son¡¯s enchantments in Hell, bitch!¡± Lor''Themar said with savage sorrow & anger. He then pushed his sword downward, cleaving the banshee in twain.
The powerful fire enchantment on his blade activated, and obliterated any remaining traces of the woman he had once admired.
Taking a step back, Lor''Themar wanted to collapse onto his back, and weep the pent up emotions of centuries away, as he finally severed the thorn that had been buried deep within his heart.
His wounds were slowly healing due to the holy properties of the amulet, however, the scars remained. This time, he wouldn''t allow the kid to heal them.
Lor''Themar unconsciously found himself smirking at the thought of the kid¡¯s face when he had glued him to his chair.
He was old, but that didn''t mean it was too late to make some new friends. Lor''Themar figured he could sit his tired bones down, but the ongoing war did not allow him a moment of rest.
His allies needed him.
Collecting his bow, and sheathing his swords, Lor''Themar didn''t look back as he left to join the battle.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
During Lor''Themar''s touch and go battle, Rho''dan and the four other Crossguard were confronting the master of enchanting, Bloodchanter.
¡°Approaching me in a group, Rho''dan? You always were my least worthwhile student.¡± Bloodchanter taunted from within his suit of fully enchanted, crimson colored thorium armor.
Rho''dan met Bloodchanter''s taunt by drawing his sword, and silently pointing it at him.
However, the Crossguard were not nearly so solemn.
¡°He is your only living student.¡± One of the Crossguard cackled.
¡°Duels are overrated. Enough posturing Rho''dan, I always hated this asshole. Let''s kill''em.¡± Another drew an axe, and banged it against his shield.
¡°The Highlord forged and enchanted this gear himself, you''re washed up Bloodchanter! Shown up by a boy no less!¡±
The final Crossguard remained silent, as he checked their surroundings for any ambush, allowing his companions to toss insult after insult at the crimson armored enchanter.
¡°Little Rho''dan, running to lick Vandercross¡¯s heels because he couldn''t take a little more training. Too cowardly to fight 1v1 like a real man.¡± Bloodchanter taunted, and took a step forward.
His boot crunched as it met the rubble underneath, spreading a slight dust cloud in a 5 foot radius. This action was some sort of trigger, and all the joking around and mirth disappeared from the Crossguards¡¯ faces as things got serious.
The bottom of Bloodchanter¡¯s boots sparked, and a rocket-like force propelled him towards the group.
His enchanted sword flashed out, swapping between fire, ice, and Arcane energies against all of their shields, searching for a weakness.
A pale white energy shield sprang up around each of the Crossguard, protecting them from Bloodchanter''s onslaught.
They retaliated by swiping where Bloodchanter looked like he was going to move next, and aimed for the eye slit in his armor, however, a haze of tri-energy enchantments (fire/ice/Arcane) sprang forth, blocking their strikes.
The battle quickly devolved into one of attrition, where each side was in a race to deplete the other side''s shields, then crack the armor and expose the flesh underneath.
Four of the Crossguard were beating at Bloodchanter with everything they had, but could not get through.
Slashing downward, Bloodchanter unleashed a wave of pure ice from his blade, completely freezing on Crossguard, and taking him out of the fight. At the same time, his shield fired a concentrated beam of pure Arcane at another one. The laser beam penetrated the energy shield, and began to slowly melt the Crossguard¡¯s helmet, causing him to scream and run away for a moment as he tossed his helmet to the side.
Rho''dan hadn¡¯t remained idle during this engagement, and shield bashed Bloodchanter in the helmet once, twice, three times in an instant, then shoved his thorium blade in the exact same spot, creating a tiny gap in Bloodchanter''s energy shields.
The tip of the sword entered the eye slit on Bloodchanter''s helmet,
¡°The perversions you did to us boys in the name of ¡®training'' was sacrilegious, Bloodchanter. Inappropriate touching, rape, murder, yet you dare call yourself Highborn! It was a shame that the Scourge took you before I could get my hands on your neck.¡± Rho''dan uttered softly with focused contempt.
¡°And look at you, stronger than all of your peers! I made you into the man you are Rho''dan!¡± Bloodchanter proudly crowed as he locked blades with Rho''dan.
Fire and electricity constantly spilled from Rho''dan¡¯s blade. Due to the Skyrim UI, this electricity constantly had a draining effect on mana, and was sapping the protective enchantments around Bloodchanter every second.
However, Rho''dan wasn''t without his worries as the shield in Bloodchanter''s arm lit up once more. This time, it was aimed at Rho''dan¡¯s chest.
¡°Kill him!¡± Rho''dan shouted to the two other members of the Crossguard still standing.
One tried to wrestle the shield away, whilst the other broght down his axe two handedly.
The protective shield enchantment of Bloodchanter broke, and the axe began to slightly chip as it dented Bloodchanter''s armor, but failed to pierce!
Rho''dan grunted, and barely raised his shield in time to block the white hot laser beam.
He felt his hand heat up, and the shield in his arm began to drip rivulets of burning hot metal drip and hiss to the ground.
The revolting smell and fumes from the molten metal made Rho''dan light headed, but he refused to let go, even as the energy beam began to go through the shield, and take aim at his armored vambrace.
¡°Auugh!¡± Rho''dan grunted in pain as he felt his arm begin to melt, yet even so, he refused to let Bloodchanter go, and kept his weapon pinned.
All the while, two of the Crossguard were attacking with an axe enchanted with fire and lightning, taking alternating swings with a sword enchanted with ice and lightning on Bloodchanter''s armored back.
The dual weapons enchantments began to turn Bloodchanter''s armor brittle, and cracks started to emerge all over his plate.
¡°Let go! You will lose an arm for this you fool!¡± Bloodchanter howled in desperation.
¡°An arm is nothing for my brothers.¡± Rho''dan eyed the object of his hatred with satisfaction as he sensed Bloodchanter''s panic began to escalate.
Rho''dan ignored the burnt flesh, and agony as best he could when a loud pop indicated that Bloodchanter''s armor had been pierced.
¡°Fool!¡± Bloodchanter chuckled.
When his armor was pierced, an explosion erupted out of his back, and the two remaining Crossguard were swept away in a vortex of Arcane explosions.
Rho''dan sighed in relief, when he saw that their protective enchantments had saved them; however their limbs were twisted at odd angles similar to a pretzel, and had left them out of commission. However, much to his horror, Bloodchanter''s armor seemed to be slowly knitting itself back together in some sort of self-repair!
¡°One arm Rho''dan, ah this takes me back to our training days~.¡± Bloodchanter taunted lewdly, and kicked Rho''dan in the chest, sending the crimson haired chief guard tumbling across the rocks.
Moonlight spilled upon Bloodchanter, and he raised his blade high, intent on cleaving Rho''dan in half.
It was at that moment that a large explosion of frost and snow rocked the entire battlefield. A chunk of ice came hurtling out of the night, and collided with Bloodchanter, pushing him on top of Rho''dan.
Taking advantage of this unexpected boon, Rho''dan used his only remaining arm to wrestle with Bloodchanter, putting him in a rear naked chokehold.
¡°Have you forgotten that I no longer am required to breathe?¡± Bloodchanter mocked.
All the while, heat began to shimmer around Bloodchanter''s armor, and slowly ate away at Rho''dan¡¯s enchantments, and scorched his armor, threatening to melt that too.
Rho''dan was breathing heavily, and was delirious from pain, and smoke as he clung on to Bloodchanter''s back.
At this point, the hole in Bloodchanter''s armor was closing every second, and had almost fully repaired itself. Rho''dan¡¯s sole hope and opportunity to end this conflict in victory was swiftly running out.
Taking a deep breath, Rho''dan closed his eyes, then roared in fury, mobilizing all the mana in his body for one last, final, desperate effort.
Pushing Bloodchanter down with his hand, Rho''dan pinned his former teacher with his knees, and forced his armored hand downward like a skewer.
He felt great resistance, and failed to gain entry. The will to give up, and let the pain take ahold of him, and meet the sweet embrace of death grew ever more tantalizing with each pain filled gasp he took once he experienced this monumental failure.
¡°Ha, ha, you piercing me in the back? That¡¯s a change that will never happen!¡± Bloodchanter laughed uproariously.
Rho¡¯dan saw red, and he decided to never give up, even if it increased the pain in his body a hundred fold! To Hell with this monster!
Attacking downward again and again, Rho¡¯dan thought there would be no answer to bring this pervert to justice, when suddenly, he heard the sweet sound of tearing metal. Rho¡¯dan had done it. He had just barely punctured a hole in Bloodchanter''s armor! Without any pause or hesitation, he dug the tips of his armored fingers in through Bloodchanter''s lungs, and moved deeper still till he squeezed onto the bastard¡¯s unliving heart.
¡°Haaargh!¡± Rho''dan called upon the spark of his mana in his body by ¡®chanting¡¯ a barbaric ancient spell fueled by desperation and emotions, like that of his Troll ancestors. As a result, a spark of fire lit up in his hand.
That flame spread outward, and utterly cooked Bloodchanter inside out.
Lifting his bloodied fist into the sky, Rho''dan crushed Bloodchanter''s heart, and let loose with a primal roar of victory.
Limping to their feet, the Crossguard raised their heads to the moon in pride, and shouted his victory to the heavens alongside him.
¡°Rho''dan!¡±
¡°Rho''dan!¡±
¡°Rho''dan!¡±
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
AN: Read 25 chapters ahead at: karpqq pa t re n
Chapter 68
¡°Oh, wow, Vandercross has made his crystal forest, shouldn''t you be just about done by now?¡± Earthwarder, the green haired golem summoner yawned towards Starbottle as he boredly reclined in the dirt.
¡°Don''t bother the girl much, Ward, she''s had it tough. Chasing Vandercross all these years, and he shows up with a mystery child out of nowhere? Now Vandercross is having the time of his life playing with said child. Starbottle must be cross if I do say so myself.¡± The priestly Dawnbringer patted his belly, and chortled at their resident alchemist''s expense.
¡°Stuck in the backline playing support with these two again is insufferable.¡± The silver haired Elf, Starbottle muttered tersely to herself as she continued to stir her cauldron.
Reaching for one of her key ingredients for her next step, Starbottle found her hand grasping at air. Blinking her eyes in surprise, she looked down, and confirmed it was missing.
A second later, Starbottle heard a loud crunch, causing her cheek to twitch, and a sickly sweet smile to spread across her face.
¡°You know Ward, being dead isn''t so bad. Sure, the fruit flavor is muted, but whichever necromancer brought us back did a bang-up job I say! Jolly good show!¡± Dawnbringer leaned on his staff, and happily munched on an apple-looking fruit.
¡°Hmm, the stars still look the same, but the song of the earth is different. In a way, it¡¯s more welcoming than before¡How about you Dawn? How do you even wield the Light as an Undead?¡± Earthwarder looked up at the stars in thoughtful reflection.
¡°Huh. How come I can still wield the Light?¡± Dawnbringer stopped what he was doing for a moment, then held his hand up, curiously inspecting it.
A spark of Holy energy thrummed across his fingertips.
¡°Oh!¡± Dawnbringer flapped his hand like it had caught fire.
¡°You okay?¡± Earthwarder slowly rolled over to face him, and stretched lazily like a cat.
¡°Yes, yes, simply-oh, Starbottle! What are you doing here, shouldn''t you be working your magic?¡± Dawnbringer questioned.
¡°Alright you glutton, hand it over.¡± Starbottle crossed her arms like an irate mother catching her naughty child in the act of stealing cookies.
¡°No fair, Dawn, you took Star¡¯s reagents, and didn''t share any with me?¡± Earthwarder slowly intoned.
¡°And you, Earthwarder, why aren''t you hidden in the ground, or your golem? Faedra could be here at any moment, and attack us like last time!¡± Starbottle hotly demanded, and pointed a finger of accusation at the green haired Elf.
¡°Easy now, there''s still half of the reagent left, and leave the lad alone, he¡¯s been hit hard, what with the unlife and all.¡± Dawnbringer held out his large hand, and presented a fruit missing well over half of its mass.
¡°Always leaving me with these idiots in the backline while you go off gallivanting for all the fun and glory.¡± Star muttered to herself as she took what little remained of the fruit.
She then abruptly turned away, and stormed back to her cauldron to complete the final step in her potion.
¡°Is she gone?¡± Earthwarder questioned.
¡°You''re the one with earth sense, right?¡± Dawnbringer pressed back.
¡°Like I said, the ground sings a different tune now, and-two explosions rocked the battlefield almost simultaneously in two separate locations, interrupting their chat-ah, I think Windrunner and Bloodchanter are about to die. Shouldn''t you do something about that?¡± Earthwarder rolled over, and slightly raised his head from the ground, before deciding he couldn''t be bothered.
¡°Those two pricks? Please. Windrunner has been chasing the position of First Seat forever, practically coddling the King''s balls for a chance at the spot, and acting like a cutthroat to get it. Whilst Bloodchanter rubbed me the wrong way, the rumors surrounding his training regimen never sat well with me. Now if Firecaster''s life were on the line, that would be a different story!¡± Dawnchaser said as he watched on passively as Rho''dan burnt Bloodchanter to a crisp, and Lor''Themar cut Windrunner to pieces.
¡°Mmhm, Firecaster is a good man.¡± Earthwarder nodded along.
¡°Well, enough chit chat, it''s time to entertain our guest.¡± Dawnbringer wiped his fruit stained sticky fingers along his robe, and turned around back towards Starbottle.
¡°Do we have to?¡± Earthwarder yawned.
However, Earthwarder''s unenthusiastic demeanor was not matched by a nearby camouflaged ranger.
An Arcane Arrow came out of the dark of the night, white energy coated its tip, and aimed straight for Starbottle''s throat.
Before it could make contact, Dawnbringer had thrown up a shield of Divine Intervention around the alchemist, blocking the would-be assassins attack.
The arrow-which was about to hit the barrier and break apart-suddenly separated itself into 8 smaller arrows, and went around Starbottle. The true targets were Earthwarder and Dawnbringer!
A wall of earth rose up in the shape of a great maw, and swallowed the arrows whole.
The colossal golem overhead reacted as well, and began to pound the ground in many random locations.
¡°Ruargh!¡± The golem roared, and yellow-brown energy pulsed around its hands. It then punched into the ground so that its arms were up to their shoulders deep in dirt.
A pulse of dust swept across their location, revealing a cloaked figure in green.
Seismic shifts around the crater saw boulders and rocks slide downward into the pit, one after another to take the ranger out.
¡°Damnit.¡± Helios muttered to himself as he was forced to cartwheel out of the way as a stone the size of a carriage came barreling at him.
Jumping from boulder to boulder, Helios managed to get off a few more Arcane Arrows, but each and every one of them was blocked by a shield of Light from the priest.
¡°If it isn''t the lad who tried to kill Varrus in the drama club, lieutenant Helios! This is a surprise, what are you doing working with Vandercross¡¯s pup?¡± Dawnchaser cupped his hands, and shouted over the constant tumble of dirt and debris to be heard.
Helios ignored the portly priest, as every second, he was in a constant state of peril.
Stakes of earth sprang up underneath, and the golem was intermittently hurling giant stones at him, forcing Helios to maintain a heightened sense of panic if he even hoped to dodge this constant barrage of attacks.
Mid handspring, Helios witnessed A¡¯lar, Prince Kael¡¯Thas¡¯s phoenix companion crash in front of him in a fiery explosion.
Helios idly noticed that the phoenix had one necrotic wing that continued to heal and decay every second. The sacred bird was weeping tears, clearly withstanding incredible pain, yet even so, he stood up to confront the barrage of rock and stone.
Helios blinked in surprise when he saw Prince Kael¡¯Thas, bleeding from the forehead, and half his robe was burnt away. Underneath the robe was a ghastly palm print of seared flesh. Yet despite his own terrible wounds, Kael¡¯Thas paid them no mind as all his focus was placed on the Troll in his arms.
The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
Jan''alai''s breath was shallow, and her eyes glazed over. The muscle in her arms had shriveled, and a sick tumor pulsed black lines all throughout her veins. Green fire pushed the rot away, but it only served as a stop gap measure. The disease was slowly, claiming her life.
But this moment of inspection wasn''t to last long, as the golem did not stop just because a new element had added itself to the fight.
¡°Kieer!¡± Al''ar screeched, and blasted a bolt of fire at a nearby stone boulder, blasting it to pieces.
As a phoenix, Al''ar could undergo rebirth at any time to remove any of his negative status conditions. However, his defiance to save his Master struck a chord in Helios¡¯s heart.
Helios felt hot shame as he recalled the moment he had fled from his squad, from his wife as the Scourge had come down upon them.
For a moment, he was paralyzed in fear as images of his wife¡¯s demise flashed through his mind.
¡°Kieeer!¡± A holy radiance flashed from Al''ar, breaking the ranger out of his fugue.
Blinking his eyes, and feeling the terror gripping his mind disappear, Helios listened to Al''ar''s desperation, and gathered that the phoenix was pleading him to take action, to rescue his friend and companion.
Kael¡¯Thas had an all too familiar, lost, distraught look on his face as his bloody hands desperately held onto the slowly necrotizing form of Jan''alai.
Helios felt disdain for the Troll, like any true son or daughter of Quel''Thalas. He was of a mind to leave her to her fate. But the desperate bravery of Al''ar to tank the seemingly never ending earth spikes and boulders moved Helios.
Furthermore, the agony of despair upon Kael¡¯Thas¡¯s face was like a mirror into Helios¡¯ soul.
Closing his eyes, Helios went against his instinct to flee, and held out his hand to the beleaguered Prince.
¡°Stand up, Prince Kael¡¯Thas! We must go!¡± Helios said urgently.
¡°No no no no no no no.¡± Kael¡¯Thas ignored Helios, and repeatedly spoke down at his lover in denial.
¡°Wake up!¡± Helios slapped Kael across the face hard.
¡°Is this the same man who preached to us during the day of mourning? The inspiring leader who cried for vengeance?! I respected you, Kael¡¯Thas. I want to leave you for dead, let Vandercross-as much as I despise him-to take your post. But look at your phoenix companion! Whilst you sit here lost, he is giving his life for you!¡± Helios raged, every word he spat at the Prince feeling like a self-criticism for Helios¡¯s own past cowardice.
¡°Al''ar¡¡± Kael¡¯Thas raised his head, and watched on as his friend ate dozens of stone spears, yet kept on going despite the pain. Fire, flesh and blood dripped down the phoenix''s flank, yet he never stepped back, never gave in!
¡°Go! Take Jan''alai to Varrus, he will know what to do.¡± Kael¡¯Thas unceremoniously shoved the Troll into Helios''s grasp.
Helios blinked in surprise at the sudden move.
Gulping a mouthful of dust, Helios saw the determination in Kael¡¯Thas''s actions, and withheld any criticism.
¡°Give them Hell.¡± Helios saluted in respect, then slung Jan''alai over his shoulder, and fled towards his boss.
The golem stopped targeting Al''ar, and tracked its attacks to follow Helios whilst he ran away.
Shortly after Helios made his escape, Rommath and Firecaster came floating down.
Rommath, in his high collared outfit rode atop a floating carpet, whilst the tall red headed Firecaster sat upon a flying horse clad in flames.
Rommath bore a fresh scar across his forehead similar to Kael''s, and the sleeve of his left arm was missing, yet he seemed to ignore these wounds as mere trivialities.
Firecaster, in contrast, was unharmed, and observed the entire event unfolding as a silent spectator. Occasionally he titled his head to the side in thought, or nodded here and there, but otherwise seemed comfortable to remain still.
¡°A noble soul indeed, my Prince. It is self-sacrificing qualities such as this that place you above Anasterian''s other children. Why can you not see that this weapon is a gift to you? Even now, the Scourge gathers in the Ghostlands, preparing for a second offensive. This weapon is precisely what we need to forestall my sister''s ambitions.¡± Rommath said in an effort to sway Kael¡¯Thas.
¡°You practically raised me, master Rommath. When the court schemed, your vast repertoire of knowledge was my escape.¡± Kael¡¯Thas closed his eyes as he recalled his childhood.
¡°But the living dead have no place in this kingdom. Your reckless use of magic has seen my friends on the verge of death, and has threatened the security of my people. I am sorry, master, but as sovereign of Quel''Thalas, I, Prince Kael¡¯Thas Sunstrider hereby sentence you to death.¡± Kael¡¯Thas said with steely resolve.
Each word uttered from his mouth felt like he was chewing up glass to get it out, but the attempt on his best friend¡¯s life, the near death of Jan''alai, and the crippling damage done to Al''ar were too much!
Rommath was like a second father to Kael¡¯Thas. But necromancy so soon after the Scourge invasion was a line too far! Much more, it was necromancy of their own people! The very founding members of the country! If even they were unsafe, who was to say the rest of Quel¡¯Thalas¡¯s citizens would be safe from Rommath¡¯s control once they had perished?
¡°A pity. You are not the leader I thought you were. I thought I instructed you that it is not knowledge that is not a danger to society, but the practitioner. If you cannot bear the torch of progress, then I shall do so in your stead. Our race was born from magic, I will see that we become the masters of all magic.¡± Rommath exclaimed.
Kael¡¯Thas stood up to his full height, and drew upon the Mana in his body, and patted Al''ar on the side. The burn mark on his chest caused him to grimace, yet he had a mission to accomplish.
For all his friends, for his people, but most importantly, for himself.
¡°Kieer!¡± Al''ar shone radiantly in the night, bathing the area in a bout of extreme Light.
The illumination brought a smile to Kael''s face, and he ruffled his companion¡¯s feathers.
¡°That¡¯s right Al''ar, I''m still standing.¡±
However, at this moment of resolve, Starbottle had finally finished her brew.
A pink fog erupted from her pot, and spread throughout all corners of the Sunwell''s crater. A sickly sweet smell preheated the air upon the fog''s arrival.
Seeping into every crack and crevice, any mite, cockroach, or insect caught in its pathway instantly melted. Whatever organic material this fog touched turned into soup.
Rommath flew high to avoid the death cloud, and looked down at Kael, shaking his head at what could have been.
¡°Kieer, kieer!¡± Al''ar warned Kael of the oncoming danger.
It came so quickly, Kael didn''t have much time to work a powerful spell, so thinking on his feet, he replied with an instant cast.
Ignoring his friend''s concern, he met the oncoming cloud with a Howling Blast.
A twister of cold wind emerged from his hands, and pressed the rapidly advancing fog to his left and right.
However, the perfume acted like it was alive. Twin drills of fog formed from Kael''s side, and rushed at him with the force of a cyclone.
With Al''ar''s damaged wing, Kael refused to move from his spot, and repeatedly shot out Howling Blast after Howling Blast at the pink fog, yet the gas was pervasive, and seemingly never ending.
Fatigue was building up as mana exhaustion began to take ahold of Kael. By constantly casting spell after spell, he had no time to absorb a Mana Stone. Sweat was accumulating across his blood streaked brow, and his muscles began to feel lethargic, yet he refused to bow out. He refused to leave Al''ar behind!
¡°Kioer, Koeer!¡± Al''ar begged Kael to portal out, and save himself, that Al''ar could always be reborn from his egg.
¡°No, no, if I can¡¯t make a portal large enough for you too, then I won¡¯t do it! Besides, we both know that your egg can be destroyed!¡± Kael harshly admonished, as he stubbornly kept casting Howling Blast in all directions.
¡°Kier¡¡± Al''ar cried out in melancholy.
¡°If only I had a little more time to cast a more powerful spell.¡± Kael muttered helplessly to himself.
Al''ar seemed to have heard this, and he began to flap his wings. Great gusts of wind picked up, and put the pink fog at bay.
However, each time he flapped his wings, the plague in his body would spread that much faster. Every second of action only served to weaken the phoenix further and further.
Kael¡¯Thas witnessed his long time companion waste away before his eyes, yet he was touched by Al''ar¡¯s determination.
Not letting this act of selflessness become squandered, Kael¡¯Thas immediately began to chant a spell to take care of the fog.
¡°Wilya Aeri Oro
Wilya Aeri H?th
Wilya Aeri Densa?de!¡±
Kael¡¯Thas intoned.
Upon the completion of his spell, the density of the fog utterly changed, making it so light, that more dense gasses displaced Starbottle¡¯s spell. It happened so quickly, that no matter how much Starbottle tried to control it, the pink fog flew up into the heights of the atmosphere, beyond her range of command.
¡°I''m still standing.¡± Kael¡¯Thas defiantly exclaimed up at Rommath as the fog disappeared from sight.
Chapter 69
Varrus watched on as hundreds of Mana Stones took on the shape of trees. Their translucent crystalline shapes emanated an insane amount of mana after absorbing the ambient energy from both the leylines, and the environment.
Vandercross was levitating above it all, and began to manipulate the trees like they were an extension of his own limbs.
Branches snaked out of the ground to ensnare Varrus, the closer they came to contacting his skin, he could feel a mana draining function. If they got ahold of him, he was certain to be sucked dry!
Fortunately, he was standing side by side with his wife. Syra was quick to dice any branches into pieces. However, upon destruction, the crystalline roots would either explode in a wave of uncontrollable Arcane energy, or immediately reform from the tree for another attack.
All the while, Vandercross was controlling this forest, he would shoot homing Arcane Barrage at Varrus and Syra in a almost never ending stream of attacks.
Each Arcane Barrage consisted of 5 basketball sized balls of pure white energy.
Varrus was forced to toss up a ward every 5-10 seconds in response. The impact of the Arcane Barrage was powerful like any other Heroes attack, but was blocked with little effort.
Whilst Varrus was in this seeming stalemate, he would toss Bolide after Bolide in between Arcane Barrages. Meteorites moved to take Vandercross out of the sky, however, he had a spherical shield of Arcane around him at all times.
The old man was surrounded by a bubble of energy, and flying like Magneto from the X-men cartoons. Varrus tried a few cheeky Illusion spells, such as Pale Shadow, Backlash, and Illusionary Pyre, but his shield blocked them all!
He saw it waver several times, but the constant stream of mana funneling into him made any offensive spell moot.
Varrus tried his patented Master tier Destruction spell, Forbidden Sun. Yet the giant ball of fiery death was ineffective against this forest of Mana Stones. When the ball dropped down on top of Vandercross, the flowers on the trees blossomed, and sucked all the mana dry from the spell in a matter of seconds!
Instead of spawning in a thousand fire elementals, this time, Vandercross used the mana from Varrus''s spell to double the size of the forest, and increase the width of the trees by a factor of 3!
Varrus felt like vomiting when he saw this. He had overwhelmed the Mana Stones at the beginning of the conflict, but once Vandercross had so many in one spot, he practically became unavailable!
These Mana Stones were beginning to become a serious problem! As long as Vandercross had them online, he practically had an unlimited amount of mana, and the perfect magical defense! If they became stalled for too long, then the other Convocation members could finish up their fights, and take action against Varrus and Syra together!
Destroying them all with magic wasn''t feasible because they would simply absorb Varrus¡¯s energy, and redirect it to make more Mana Stones. Furthermore, whilst Vandercross¡¯s barrier would be weak to Varrus¡¯s lightning magic, the Mana Stones would act as an impossible barrier. If he was to take his father out, he would have to get dangerously close!
That left Varrus with 3 options.
1) Destroy them with brute force, something Syra was more than capable of. 2) Use non-attributed spells like telekinesis to destroy/remove them from play. And 3) Absorb each of the Mana Stones as they advanced.
Grinning to himself, Varruz decided to go with option 4, all of the above!
¡°Cover me Syra, I have a spell to make you stronger. When I finish, we advance toward Vandercross to end all of this!¡± Varrus called out.
¡°You are safe in my hands, my love.¡± Syra flashed a smile, and began to block both the Arcane Barrage with barriers of her own, and dice the trees apart.
Once he got close, Varrus''s various perks would reduce Vandercross¡¯s magic resistance to 0%. It pained him that as a glass cannon, he had to get within 20ft to have these perks activate, but it was his only option!
Pulling up his Illusion skill tree, and doing some quick math for the boosts he was about to enact, Varrus began formulating his plan of attack.
Commanding Presence - In combat, you radiate an aura of mystical nobility that touches allied creatures and people within 40 feet. Those affected gain 20% extra attack damage and have a 20% chance of a critical strike.
Kindred Mage: Mind affecting spells are 15 points stronger / 30 if you are the same race.
Illusion Mastery (2) - Illusion spells cost 50% less Magicka, Illusion spells last 100% longer, and mind affecting Illusion spells are 20pts stronger.
Imposing Presence - You radiate an aura of mystical charisma that touches all within 40 feet. Any Illusion spell you cast on those affected is 25% more powerful and lasts 30% longer.
Crown of the False King - Commanding Presence also increases armor by 80 points and magic resistance by 20%.
Imperious Splendor - Commanding Presence and Crown of the False King are twice as powerful as long as you remain above 75% Health.
Pandemonium - Those affected by a Frenzy spell or effect within the radius of Imposing Presence gain 50% extra attack damage.
That is to say that the buffs affecting Syra would add up to a staggering:
160 Armor
40% magic resistance
50% more powerful Illusion spells + 50pts
140% attack damage increase
40% crit chance increase
And of course, if Syra (or any other ally under these effects) were struck by a weapon, Protect Your God would activate. Which for 5 seconds, would enhance an ally under the effect of Commanding Presence to increase their attack damage by 250%!
Then there was Wilting, one of many debuffs that would affect Varrus''s enemies if he got within 30ft of them.
Wilting - Those affected by a Calm spell or effect within the radius of Imposing Presence lose 200 points of armor and 50% magic resistance.
Finally, most of these perks that weren''t already active, would go into effect once he cast an illusion spell. In this case, Varrus opted for the Master tier spell, Call to Arms.
Call to Arms gives allies a 25-point boost to one-handed, two-handed, archery, health, and stamina for ten minutes.
With the aforementioned boosts, Call to Arms was enhanced by a (12.5+25+50 =) 87.5 boost lasting twenty minutes due to Illusion Mastery.
The boosts to armor, stamina and health weren''t that significant in the grand scheme of things. As discovered from his tests, 160 armor was strong enough to block an arrow from an average longbow. Impressive, but nothing to brag about in a world of magic, and other insane mageotechnology. However, the bonus skill to one handed, and two handed was extreme!
When Varrus trained with Lor''Themar, he could tell that every single point in his one-handed modified his skill by an insane degree. He could feel himself improve drastically, and that was from a paltry skill level from 20 -> 30.
He could only imagine what a boost in skill for someone like Syra who was already at the peak to go even further beyond!
Waving his hands, Varrus unleashed Call to Arms, buffing Syra with the insane percentile increases in magic resist, crit chance, and attack damage.
If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.
Varrus noticed the change immediately. Where before, Syra was locked in a passive state where she could neither advance or retreat-a position that could be defined as a losing stalemate-she now moved like a winged tiger hopped up on redbull.
That girl¡¯s sword flashed so fast, that the crystalline trees were chopped to bits before they could even explode!
Even the Arcane Barrage was disregarded by her, as she stopped trying to shield them, and began to cut the balls of pure energy in half!
Watching her advance, chipping away at the crystal forest like a man with a chainsaw shaving through ice put Varrus into a trance.
This was his hot, sexy, deadly wife!
¡°Go Syra, go!¡± Varrus whooped from the side.
Goddam! He couldn''t wait till he got his hands on enough adamantium for her new buster sword!
Of course, Varrus wasn''t simply playing cheerleader as his wife acted as primary tank and dps.
He began to support her with telekinesis. Any Mana Stone that entered his sight was either yeeted to the back of the crater, outside of Vandercross¡¯s range of control, or brought directly in front of him.
By casting a quick Dispel Magic on the crystalline tree, and breaking it into smaller chunks, Varrus could steal the Mana Stones into his inventory.
Their teamwork was flawless, and transformed them into an unstoppable juggernaut.
Tree branches began to shoot concentrated beams at them like high pressure water cannons, shoot up stakes randomly from the ground with the intent to impale, explode like mines, and more.
Yet thanks to Syra''s speed enchantments, she intercepted every threat before it could reach Varrus, and with the Illusion buffs, had the strength to eliminate every threat before it fully realized.
Varrus and Syra had pressed forward, and were both sweating from the constant barrage of attacks, and many close calls.
But they had finally advanced to within 50 feet of Vandercross. He was within their sights. Just thirty more feet, and Varrus could enact the perk Sotha¡¯s Maelstrom, and reduce Vandercross¡¯s magic resistance by 100%!
Sotha''s Maelstrom: Emit radiation that reduces the magic resistance of nearby enemies within 20 feet by 5% per second, up to 100%. Lasts 120 seconds.
¡°Simply wonderful! I had worried that the future was bleak upon mine return. Yet this surprise is truly touching. Individually, you are both phenomenal, yet susceptible to my magic. But when paired together, you, Syra, and Varrus are the perfect duo. Bravo!¡± Vandercross politely clapped at both of them.
Yet even as Vandercross praised Syra and Varrus, his attacks never let up, and in fact, as they drew closer, only seemed to increase in speed.
Leaves began to fall down from the trees, and came at them from all angles. Varrus couldn''t cast a wind spell and blow them away, as they would simply absorb the magic.
Tens of thousands of razor sharp leaves made of pure Arcane energy came at them like speeding bullets. In this case, telekinesis was more of a target spell, and was excellent on a single object, yet in a mass battle like this, he could stop maybe 10 or 20 out of ten thousand leaves before they made contact!
As a physical object, they dealt both piercing damage, and magic damage. Varrus didn''t think his shields/wards could stand up to such a mass bombardment, and despite Syra''s best efforts, there was no way she could catch them all. Ultimately, they would be swarmed like a baby elephant facing a pack of hyenas, and die from a thousand cuts.
However, that didn''t mean he was without recourse!
Varrus did have a few non-attributed spells that could turn the tide!
Chief amongst them was the Expert Alteration spell, Tumble Magnet!
By spamming the spell, a dozen+ basketball sized orbs spread out in a 360 direction from his position, and began to move the leaves off course.
Already, hundreds of leaves collided with one another, or into nearby trees, causing a chain reaction of explosions due to the volatile nature of mana.
As promising as this outcome was, it was not enough!
¡°Syra, come close!¡± Varrus yelled at her.
As soon as she was within an arms-length, Varrus began to cast Raise Wall like it was going out of style, and constantly threw up a roof of enchanted bricks overhead with the spell he learnt from the architect.
Muffled explosions rocked the foundation, and Varrus felt his ears ring due to the constant bombardment.
Whenever a gap in the walls opened up, Varrus would advance towards Vandercross, then toss up another set of walls, and toss out more Tumble Magnets.
Varrus and Syra advanced like turtles. Protected by the wall overhead, and moving a few steps forward at a time, Varrus eventually got within 20ft of Vandercross!
The effects of Wilting, and Sotha''s Maelstrom reduced Vandercross¡¯s magic resist to 0!
When a gap in his wall was created, this time, Varrus went on the offense, and created a corridor with a small hole, so that he could have line of sight on Vandercross.
With his left hand, he repeatedly blasted the old man with a lightning attributed spell, Lightning Strike, destroying his shield.
Whereas with his right hand, Varrus cast a Restoration spell with the intent of ending it all.
Thanks to the perks Crusaders Fire, and Hallowed Burial, his Restoration spells would do 55% more damage to Undead!
However, Vandercross had adjusted to the sudden attack, and blocked the attributed attack with the endless stream of leaves!
Danger flashed in Varrus''s eyes as his surprise attack failed. However, just because his attributed attack could be blocked, didn''t mean he was out of options!
With his left hand, he shot out another lightning attack to act as a distraction, however, his true intention was to land the Apprentice Illusion spell, Thoughtsteal.
Thoughtsteal: Equip the spells the target has equipped. Lasts for 120 seconds or until unequipped.
He was going to take Vandercross out with his own family magic!
A burst of knowledge pain entered Varrus''s mind, but he ignored the sudden headache, and slight nose bleed in favor of analyzing the over a dozen Mana Stone related magics that popped up on his interface.
He didn''t have much time to analyze these different spells, as the stream of leaves, branches, and roots was never ending! If he didn''t do something and fast, then no matter how much Syra protected him, he would eventually be overwhelmed and perish!
Thinking on his feet, he decided the most important spell among them was the Master tier channeling spell, Mana Stone Control.
Without hesitation, Varrus swapped to this spell, and began to contest Vandercross for control of the forest.
His skill was amateurish, however, he caught Vandercross for surprise a second time within seconds, and the old man was in shock.
¡°Syra, do it!¡± Varrus shouted with an urgent tone of voice.
He felt his control over the forest slipping as Vandercross began to reassert his control.
Syra glanced at him in worry for a second, obviously reticent to leave him defenseless, and open to attack.
¡°Go! Show him why we''re the perfect couple!¡± Varrus gasped as his concentration over the spell began to lapse and a backlash almost occurred.
Syra winked at Varrus, then soared into the sky.
¡°I am sorry, papi.¡± Syra said with some melancholy in her voice.
¡°I could not be prouder.¡± Vandercross grinned, and interposed a dozen giant trees in between himself and Syra.
Syra cut through all of them at once with one slice, and advanced upon Vandercross in a flash.
Shieldless due to Varrus''s spells, Vandercross was wide open, and was pierced in the chest.
A second later, Syra came rocketing downward, and impaled Vandercross deep into the earth.
Varrus gulped in relief as he felt the forest completely fall under his control.
¡°Here, my final gift to you, son. My beautiful boy, stand strong, and always watch your back. Take care.¡± Vandercross looked peaceful as he presented a tiny crystal to Varrus.
Taking it out of his hand, Varrus looked on with mixed emotions as the Light shining from Syra''s sword finally turned Vandercross into ashes, purifying him from this world.
Varrus placed the crystal in his inventory, and it read [Vandercross Family Artes].
His eyes widened as he realized what this was. Varrus tried to absorb the knowledge like he had done with books in the past, however, as this was not a book, the knowledge held within did not get absorbed.
Whilst Varrus was disappointed, that didn''t mean he was angry. This was another means to magic that he could study. If taken to the next level, it could even be the thing that advanced him to the Legendary tier. A level shared by demigods!
Varrus didn''t feel particularly close to this transmigrated parent, but that didn''t mean he wasn''t thankful.
For his arranged marriage, cozy lifestyle, political power, and more.
¡°Thank you.¡± Varrus whispered, and bowed at Vandercross¡¯s ashes.
Syra held him in a side hug, and he saw tears dripping down her face.
¡°Chin up, my Sun, we still have an assassin to deal with.¡± Varrus lifted Syra''s face, and stole a kiss across her cheek.
Syra hugged him even tighter than before, and remained silent.
Varrus chuckled at her, then glanced at the Mana Stone forest. Half of it remained, and was raring to go.
Whilst Thoughtsteal was still in play, he would make the most of it!
Vandercross was down, Rommath and The rest of the Old Guard were soon to follow!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
AN: Read 25 chapters ahead at: karpqq p tr e on
Chapter 70
Whilst Varrus stood triumphant with Syra in his arms, he took a quick glance around the battlefield to adjust his bearings, and determine where he was needed next.
Lor''Themar had taken out their alchemist, and was sniping at a portly priest. He was dodging Hammers of Justice-literal hammers made of Light energy that spawned directly overhead- dropping down from the sky like nobody''s business. The Ranger General was banged up from his previous fight, but his unyielding resolve to take out the backline support, and enemy healer was encouraging to say the least!
Rho''dan and the Crossguard were severely wounded, and limping their way towards Varrus''s position.
Kael was engaging in a brutal 2v2 against Rommath and Firecaster in a series of grand magics that shook the very foundations of Quel''Danas. Giant firenados, and flashes of pure Arcane blasted their section of the battlefield to smithereens. If the sight of the Sunwell was a giant crater now, it would become a pit of no return after they were finished.
Varrus''s immediate inclination was to snap heal Rho''dan and the Crossguard, then back his friend up. However, a seismic shift in the landscape drew Varrus''s attention to the figurative elephant in the room.
Charging straight in his direction, Helios carrying an injured Jan''alai on his back was sprinting for all his worth. However, it was what was behind Helios that was so concerning.
Standing at a height similar to a skyscraper, the golem under Earthwarder''s control was hurling massive boulders at the ranger, forcing him to desperately dodge as best he could.
At the same time, the golem was slowly trudging forward. Its long gait meant that it would catch up to Helios in a minute or less.
Varrus had become inspired by the power Vandercross had unleashed, and decided to put his own spin on it.
¡°Want to see me one shot that golem?¡± Varrus glanced at Syra with a smirk.
¡°Mmm.¡± Syra mumbled in acceptance, then snuggled closer into his embrace.
Gently petting her hair, Varrus glanced at Vandercross¡¯s ashes one last time before he took action.
One by one, Varrus manipulated the tree-like Mana Stones to line up in a row, and take on the shape of a stake, like the kind someone would drive into a vampire¡¯s heart. He did this until he roughly had 300 all pointed in the direction of the soon to arrive colossal golem.
¡°Vadercross! Highlord! Varrus! Do, hah, some, THING!¡± Helios cried, out of breath, and in a state of panicked desperation as a boulder the size of a house landed just a few feet to his right.
Varrus frowned to himself, as the stakes didn''t line up exactly as he thought they should, and did some last second adjustments.
¡°Silence! Can''t you see my husband is thinking!¡± Syra harshly rebuked the ranger, causing him to stumble in his tracks.
Helios opened his mouth to say something, to rage against the unfairness of the world, but coughed as dust and debris entered his throat.
The golem was now within striking distance, and had reached its massive arm forth with the intention of crushing Helios-and by proxy, Jan''alai-once and for all.
Varrus moved at his own pace, and unhurriedly slapped down 300 Acceleration Runes in front of the row of sharpened Mana Stones.
¡°That about does it.¡± Varrus nodded to himself.
With a flick of his finger, telekinesis was applied to one of the stakes, and they all fell down like a row of dominos.
¡°Ruaahh!¡± The golem bellowed as it finally reached downward.
The shadow of the colossus completely covered Helios. All he could do was close his eyes, and hold his breath in response towards his impending doom.
However, his death never arrived.
Varrus¡¯s Mana Stones collided with the Alteration spell, Acceleration Rune, and were launched forward like an ICBM.
Each sharpened Mana Crystal was packed full of energy, and when they collided with the golem, they absolutely tore it to smithereens.
It tried to roar in defiance, but the result of the Arcane explosion completely vaporized it from this planet. One moment it was there, another, a bright white, blinding flash of light saw it disappear into sheer nothingness.
Varrus was caught off guard by the power of 300 concentrated, Master tier Mana Stones, and almost fell over due to the resulting concussive wave of energy.
¡°I have you.¡± Syra held Varrus from behind, preventing him from collapsing.
Blinking away spots in his eyes, Varrus saw his grin of excitement matched across Syra''s face.
¡°I can''t wait to teach our children how to do that.¡± Syra said hotly.
Varrus in return, held her hand, and softly kissed her upon the lips.
Whilst Varrus was holding on to Syra, he made note of Rho''dan and the Crossguard slowly hobbling over besides Helios.
Varrus and Rho''dan silently nodded at one another, but Helios was slightly frantic to gain Varrus''s attention.
¡°High, Highlord! I apologize for interrupting, but the Prince''s paramour requires medical attention!¡± Helios gasped as he struggled to pull Jan''alai up the sloped crater.
The ranger lieutenant was frazzled, and covered in dust from head to toe, yet despite his cutting remarks, had held onto Jan''alai during his entire escape.
Varrus felt Syra shift, and reach for her sword, but he was quick to embrace her from behind. Pulling her in for a tighter hug with one arm, he gestured for Helios to step forward.
¡°Shh, she''s Kael''s paramour, you heard Helios.¡± Varrus whispered in her ear.
Syra rubbed her back into Varrus''s midsection like a cat marking its territory. Her momentary inclination to murder a perceived rival put on hold in favor of clinging to her man.
Varrus smiled at Helios''s befuddled expression, then turned his attention to Kael''s side piece.
Jan''alai had withered due to a sickening curse, and was only breathing due to the extreme Troll regeneration, and the green flames of the Loa keeping the disease at bay.
Blackened lines coursed through her body, wriggling like worms, it was as if the Death energy had a life of its own. As a result, her healthy green skin took on a deathly pale look, and she was constantly shifting in silent agony.
The first thing Varrus did was cast Dispel Magic on her. Almost immediately afterward, the black lines ceased their pulsing. He then tossed up the Expert Restoration spell, Grand Healing. The AOE magic spread to all those near Varrus, and after spamming it a few times, completely restored the bodacious green Forest Troll back to perfect health.
Rho''dan''s missing arm reformed, and the Crossguard who had bent limbs, or moved with a limp were all standing at attention, healthy and ready for battle.
¡°Highlord.¡± Rho''dan saluted with his brand new arm.
¡°It is good to see you, Rho''dan. I could use a hand around here.¡± Varrus chuckled.
Stolen novel; please report.
¡°Ahem.¡± Rho''dan politely coughed as everyone else remained silent.
¡°...¡±
¡°Right, anyway, you lot, go reinforce Lor''Themar against the priest. Syra and I will go to the Prince''s aid.¡± Varrus clapped his hands, and ordered.
¡°You''re not keeping me from Goldilocks!¡± Jan''alai cried out in concern, sitting up so fast, the surrounding Elves all pointed their blades at her in reflex.
Varrus almost shouted an expletive in shock due to her sudden movement.
¡°Then there''s no time to waste, Helios, Rho''dan, you have your assignment. Jan''alai, Syra, with me.¡± Varrus ordered decisively.
¡°Hop on!¡± Jan''alai gestured towards Varrus and Syra after she transformed into her dragonhawk form.
Shooting a glance at Syra, Varrus held onto her hands, and climbed upon Jan''alai¡¯s back.
A moment later, they zipped through the sky like a fighter jet.
Coming to the sight of Kael + Al''ar vs Rommath + Firecaster, Varrus could see that it was reaching a crescendo. If they didn''t step in soon, Kael might not be alive in a couple of minutes!
Varrus was going to say something, but a ripple of energy spread out from the fight, and gravity became heavier, pressing them towards the ground.
Thinking on his feet, Varrus threw out a Drop Zone where they were about to land, completely negating any fall damage that they were about to sustain.
A moment later, Firecaster, galloping forth on a fiery steed, began to lob an endless stream of heat-based attacks at them.
Varrus opened his inventory in response, and deposited all of the Mana Stone trees that he had stolen during his fight with Vandercross, as well as many of the Mana Stones he had crafted on his own time.
He then used the stolen magic due to Thoughtsteal, and absorbed mostly everything that Firecaster had thrown at them.
What he couldn''t block, Syra and Jan''alai tanked. His wife, surrounded in a bubble of Light, swept away the flames with her magically enhanced sword, or outright blocked them with her body. Jan''alai on the other hand, swallowed any flames that came near, then belched them right back.
Explosions rocked the crater, and molten slag so bright came about, that one might think this crater was that of a volcano, and not the former sight of a well.
Moonlight danced off of the Mana Crystals as they doubled in length and girth due to the free energy that Firecaster had so graciously donated.
Copying Vandercross, Varrus had branches snake their way forward to encircle Firecaster, whilst a swarm of sharpened Arcane leaves were shooting at him like bullets.
Varrus was clumsy in his delivery, but the overwhelming nature of such a swarming attack-one that absorbed attributed mana-was a mages worst nightmare!
Firecaster, however, seemed unperturbed.
He began chanting a lengthy spell, and a moment later, Varrus felt a gust of hot, dry air, blast him across the face.
It felt like stepping out of a cool A/C hotel until out into the desert. Damn hot, but not life threatening.
However, that''s not to say that there was no damage.
Firecaster, likely familiar with the drawbacks of Vandercross¡¯s spell, had super heated the air around him, and indirectly melted the roots, branches, and leaves nearby with a non-attributed attack.
The hazy heat stuck around Firecaster like an aura, and refused to leave. All the while, so long as he remained within the center of this formation, none could close for melee.
Even Jan''alai, a dragonhawk coated in green flames cried out in pain, and was forced to retreat when she attempted to dive bomb the red-headed wizard.
Varrus tossed out some ice spells at Firecaster, but the aura of heat was just too intense, and fizzled them out before they even had a chance. None of the Expert level spells did much of anything, and when he cast some Master tier spells, they too were either deflected by the aura, or directly countered by Firecaster.
However, Firecaster was forced to place all of his attention on Varrus when he countered those Master tier spells, and there was one that Varrus thought might be a real headache for the enemy mage.
It was an ¡®aura¡¯ spell of his own, but could damage his own allies.
It was Blizzard.
The massive AOE spell wasn''t something easily taken care of with the flick of a wrist. Every second that churning spiral of ice shards and cold death collided with the heat aura would be an opportunity to strike.
And they needed to strike fast, because Varrus wasn''t the only one going on the offense.
All the while, Firecaster was tossing an ever increasing number of fireballs, flamethrowers, and other incendiary spells, testing Varrus & company''s defenses.
Already an attack had gotten through the Mana Stone defense, and had to be stopped by a ward. If this kept up, Firecaster would have their defenses downloaded, and might discover an opportunity to break through.
Varrus recognized that they were slowly losing to this ancient''s analytical mind, and vast repertoire of spells. He had to make his move now.
¡°Be ready.¡± Varrus said over his shoulder to Syra, then began to cast Blizzard with the intent to create an opening in this heat shield.
Syra, who had mostly been playing defense, took on a sprinters pose, and a large amount of Light began to accumulate around her calves.
Buffed by all of the Illusion perks, she was primed, and ready for action.
¡°Go!¡± Varrus shouted as he let loose with his spell.
The storm of ice and snow collided with the heat aura, letting loose a sharp hiss as steam rose up, and clouded Varrus''s sight.
He Blinked forward to get a better view, and see where he could assist.
What he saw was a brutal battle.
Syra was matching swords with Firecaster. Her shield of Light, and his elemental shield of fire constantly pressed into one another.
Even with her extreme speed and buffs, they were locked in a stalemate. Fire constantly erupted from the ground like lava, and was being pressed back by Syra''s own AOE spell, Consecration.
Spiderweb cracks of Light energy pulsed under her feet, and she brutally slashed her sword at the barrier covering Firecaster.
Sparks flew as his sword was knocked out of his hand, yet that only seemed to embolden the overly tall mage. His hands began to take on a blindingly bright orange-red hue, and he shoved them towards Syra.
His magic overpowered Syra''s shield, and like a balloon popping, Varrus was witness to the horror of Syra being burnt across her midsection and chest.
¡°Syra, retreat!¡± Varrus called out in horror.
The nauseating smell of burnt flesh, and sight of it all made Varrus want to wretch, and freeze up in fear for his wife.
Syra didn''t hear him, or seem to register the pain, as her sword continued to press forth.
It weakly jammed itself into Firecaster''s barrier. Still unable to penetrate it, the sword became stuck! All seemed to spiral downward at that moment.
However, Varrus had a few spells he could cast, including an Illusion spell that would have Firecaster take all the damage he dealt to Syra upon himself or even Blink behind Firecaster for a close ranged attack. But Varrus saw that as foolish. He would much rather use his beam healing spell, Infinite Light. Which would heal Syra, and was super effective when used against Undead.
Before Varrus could enact his plan, Jan''alai came swooping down from the sky.
The fiery green dragonhawk opened her beak wide, and completely swallowed the barrier of flame.
As a result, Syra''s sword continued with its trajectory, and completely obliterated Firecaster, making Varrus''s last ditch effort moot.
However, she was seriously injured, and required healing ASAP!
Varrus Blinked to Syra¡¯s side in a hurry, and immediately began to toss out every healing spell he could.
Tears wetted his eyes, and all reason fled him as he repeatedly cast spells until he was out of mana.
Looking down at his fully healed wife, he saw that she was remaining still, yet a small smile was spread across her perfect little face.
¡°Silly, you healed me an entire minute ago.¡± Syra said with a bemused expression.
¡°You are my wife.¡± Varrus said hoarsely, as if that explained everything.
Syra smiled wordlessly at Varrus, and pushed him aside. Standing up with her sword in hand, Syra ever so slightly nodded her head at Jan''alai in thanks.
¡°Bwah hah hah! You''ve got spunk tanking that gruesome injury to finish the fight! It¡¯s up to us ladies to show our soft men-folk how it is done!¡± Jan''alai guffawed, and slapped Syra across the shoulder.
Varrus sharply inhaled at the gesture, yet nothing came of it.
¡°Yes, they are soft aren''t they? All the better to squish and poke.¡± Syra said, glancing at Varrus, making him feel oddly uncomfortable at this development.
Varrus remained stupefied in stunned silence.
Did Syra just make a friend? With another woman no less?!
Truly these were the end days.
¡°Come along bestie, with your sword, and my muscle, nothing can stop us!¡± Jan''alai exclaimed, and flexed her biceps as she began running towards Kael¡¯s conflict.
Syra raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow at Varrus as if to say ¡®coming?¡¯
Varrus dryly laughed as he ran to catch up.
He may be married to her, but damn, women would always remain an enigma to his caveman mind.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter 71
The fight between Kael¡¯Thas and Rommath had progressed to its final stages.
Obscure spells were slung between one another, such that it would put most archmages to shame.
Kael¡¯Thas for example, had reversed gravity, as well as the XYZ axis within an area of 1500ft, or about the size of four football fields. The very concept of forward was backward, up was down, left was right, etc. In essence, whichever way someone caught in this spell intended to move, they would move in the opposite direction.
At the same time, due to the gravity reversal, both Kael and Rommath were standing upside down, with their feet in the clouds, and their heads pointed towards the ground.
Unaccustomed to this form of battle, Rommath''s spells were delayed by 0.5 to 1.8 seconds. Which may not seem like much, but in a high intensity duel, every second counted!
Even so, Rommath wasn''t to be outdone by this outlandish magic, as he had a unique brand of magic too.
Numerous inscriptions flashed along his body. His high collared robe had been ripped away at some point during their fierce duel, revealing a body absolutely covered in tattoos.
Unlike the Trolls, which had inscriptions upon their body depicting animals, skulls, or gruesome scenes, Rommath''s were interlinked geometric patterns.
Each and everyone of them a link in a chain imbued with the concept of Order. The corners of these shapes acted as the vehicle that bound specific elements, which resided in the center.
An octagon on his elbow, for example, glowed a menacing umbra-purple/blue in the center, indicating a Void enhanced inscription, whereas the lines holding it together were blazing white, showcasing the binding properties of Arcane.
While Rommath was trapped in this reversal zone, the tattoos on his body acted as a 3 in 1 mana source, offensive weapon, and defensive tool.
Kael¡¯Thas breathed heavily as a net of Void energy coated in the trappings of Arcane blasted towards him.
The nonstop combat of the last few minutes had left him spent, and his collection of Mana Stones was running desperately low.
Bringing some energy to his fingers, Kael repositioned his XYZ coordinates, and ¡®teleported¡¯ out of the way of the net.
The net phased through a cloud, and instead of destroying it, corrupted it. Tiny umbra-blue raindrops began to fall upwards towards the atmosphere due to the zone reversal, crystallizing into tiny Ice Elementals, which began to shoot at Kael with Frost Bolts.
Al''ar, who had returned to his egg during the fight to heal, had prematurely hatched, and was the size of a small chicken. Hiding in Kael''s chest pocket, he stuck his head out, and breathed a jetstream of Life infused fire, obliterating the elemental voidspawn.
However, the net was not yet dealt with, as it seemed to have a homing feature, and turned around, quick as a switch.
Kael grumbled to himself, as due to the concept of Order binding the net together, he couldn''t simply reposition it to attack Rommath. Nor could he move Rommath into the net, as his former instructor had protections all around his body.
Fine, if he couldn''t dispel the net through clever means, he would resort to brutality.
Holding on to Al''ar, and using his phoenix companion as an anchor, Kael tapped into the part of the Elemental Plane that phoenixes called home, and began to cast Phoenix Fire.
A portal opened up above Kael, and from it, the cries of innumerable phoenixes sang forth. The heat and flame spilling forth like an ocean threatened to consume Kael, however, Al''ar harmonized with the Phoenix Song, soothing the raging fire, and placing it firmly under Kael''s control.
Roiling forth, this sea of flame ebbed and flowed like water. It did not simply disappear, nor did it require any continued supply of mana on Kael''s part or physical substance such as wood to burn. So long as the phoenix song was maintained, this portal to the Elemental Plane would continue indefinitely.
Seconds after Kael summoned this literal lake''s worth of liquid fire, the net of Void closed in.
When Life attuned Elemental fire met Void bound in Order, and massive conflict of conceptual magics met.
Tiny phoenixes, no larger than lap dogs emerged from the sea of flames, and pecked at the net, eating away at its strings like a bird swallowing a worm.
Similarly, gaseous looking voidlings of a similarly small size came out of the air that the net had corrupted, and began to battle the tiny phoenixes.
Seeing that the corrupted Air Elementals were not protected by the concept of Order, Kael was quick to readjust their XYZ coordinates, and held them in place. Leaving them helpless for the phoenixes to feast upon.
If before, these summons residing within the sea of flame were the size of lap dogs, they had graduated to becoming the size of a beagle due to the rich mana they had devoured.
The Phoenix Song cried in triumph, and bestowed an aura to Kael in thanks for providing a sumptuous meal.
Bright orange waves of light constantly flowed around Kael, making him completely immune to the Phoenix Fire, as well as allowing him to tap into it directly to supplement his own mana reserves.
Kael felt his father''s broken sword, the ancient family heirloom of his ancestors, Felo''melorn, rattle in its scabbard, reacting to the acknowledgement of the Phoenix Song.
Focused on countering Rommath''s next spell, he tried to ignore it, as even the smallest distraction could spell doom.
Kael felt vindicated in his action, as an unholy storm of Arcane, Holy, and Void was coalescing on the horizon.
All of Rommath''s tattoos were ablaze, and the sheer amount of mana radiating from his former instructor was enough to rival the Voidling demigod they had faced at the beach! However, it gave off an unstable feeling, as if Rommath was on the verge of catastrophe every second that he fought. Clearly, the merging of these differing magics was extremely powerful, yet also, very dangerous!
Rommath seemed uncaring to the possible self-harm, and was preparing for a devastating, ultimate attack, and Kael had to prepare in kind!
However, as Kael wracked his brains for a solution to this crisis, the rattling in his scabbard intensified.
¡°Kieeer!¡± Al''ar cried, to get his attention.
Kael frowned. Stressed due to the upcoming storm, he looked down at Al''ar in admonishment, only to see that his broken sword had come free from his scabbard, and was floating in front of him.
Preparing himself for a sneak attack, Kael took no chances, and bathed Felo''melorn in an intense wave of Phoenix Fire.
However, all he was greeted with was a chuckle, and a blinding light that he could not see through.
¡°Who are you, to wield the blade of my ancestors?! Show yourself!¡± Kael demanded in anger and fury.
¡°Come now, we both know who I am.¡± The familiar voice spoke out.
The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.
¡°It cannot be. They said you had sacrificed yourself. That you are dead!¡± Kael said in denial.
¡°Kieer!¡± Al''ar cried out besides Kael.
¡°Your phoenix friend is correct, Kael, son. I am, yet cannot be.¡± The ghost of Anasterian Sunstrider softly spoke as he seemed to look through Kael, and deep into his soul.
¡°Why now!? Why haven''t you spoken to me earlier? Given me guidance on how to rule the kingdom?!¡± Kael closed his eyes, and fell to his knees due to the emotional upheaval in his heart.
¡°Trials and tribulations are the hallmark of every great king. For some, it is their scars that define them. We are not ¡®some,¡¯ we are Sunstriders! Ever striving for what is Just, what is Right. I have seen that in you, Prince Kael¡¯Thas. Through your doubt, self loathing, acceptance, and determination, you mirror our people''s journey after the Well of Eternity was destroyed, and shattered this world.¡± Anasterian held Kael by the shoulder, and pulled him up to his feet.
Kael bit back tears, and took in the warmth of his father''s smile, replying with one of his own.
Anasterian squeezed Kael on the shoulder, and began to slowly fade out of existence.
¡°Wait! You''re not leaving me again so soon? I have so many questions!¡± Kael held out a hand, yet gripped nothing.
¡°I will be with you Kael, always. Never forget that.¡± Anastarian spoke with warmth, as he completely faded away.
Kael blinked back a tear as his father disappeared, yet the sword, Felo''melorn, still floated in midair where he had left it.
Slowly reaching his hand out, Kael found himself drawn to the blade as if he were in a trance. His breath sped up, and his heart felt like it was thrumming like a stampede.
Grasping Felo''melorn by the hilt, a stinging sensation passed throughout his body, and the aura cast by the Phoenix Flame around his body seemed to burn and blister his skin, and internal organs.
A fog of 5 shadowed figures surrounded him in a circle, and spoke a singular word, each packed full with intent, carrying conceptual weight on a metaphysical scale.
Unworthy.
Weak.
Emotional.
Useless.
Pathetic!
The voices assaulted his mindscape. Each word spoken was like a blow to his psyche, driving him into a dark corner, and driving the mana in his body out of order.
Kael gasped, almost falling to his knees, the broken blade of Felo''melorn turned backwards, and hesitated at his own throat.
¡°Goldilocks!¡± One voice pierced through the brain fog, bringing him back to reality.
¡°I am Kael¡¯Thas Sunstrider! Last of his name! Who are you to judge me!? Who are you?!¡± Kael shouted his defiance out into the ether, and pointed his blade up at the sky.
Cracks formed in the walls of this mental prison, and the shadowed figures took on the form of his father, as well as 4 other ancestors.
Generous.
Kind.
Strong.
Merciful.
Worthy!
The five spirits of his ancestors spoke one after another. The same weight of metaphysical magic this time uplifted Kael¡¯s soul, empowering it to a newfound level.
The five voices then chanted as one: (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MrNwVkpuJ7s)
¡°All that is gold does not glitter,
Not all those who wander are lost;
The old that is strong does not wither,
Deep roots are not reached by the frost.
From the ashes a fire shall be woken,
A light from the shadows shall spring;
Renewed shall be blade that was broken,
The crownless again shall be King.
Arise, Kael¡¯Thas Sunstrider, the Phoenix King!¡±
A thousand phoenix cries heralded Kael''s ascension, and the sun rose over the darkness of night, heralding dawn.
A crown of five stars fell from his ancestors, and gently rested upon Kael''s head.
All throughout Quel''Thalas, the very land itself breathed a sigh of relief. Flowers blossomed, frost fell off, and the advancing rot of decay halted in its tracks. The plague and darkness coating the island of Quel''Danas fled like water receding from the beach at low tide.
A fire within the Chapel of Light, unlit since the sacking of Silvermoon, suddenly blazed forth, heralding the return of the King.
All throughout the city, people came awake, and clamored in excitement as they heard the Phoenix Song echoing over the horizon.
No longer was vengeance the sole motivator for these people, or for the Sunfury army that was mustering at the city gates.
There was a new element kindled within the hearts of the Sin''dorei.
Hope.
Back on the isle of Quel''Danas, Felo''melorn shone brightly in Kael''s grasp, its blade broken no more.
Sunlight reflected off his golden blade, and what Kael saw in that reflection was the sight of his father, the image of a King.
The Phoenix Song, which had felt like the worst curse a moment ago, now triumphed his name to the heavens, healing his body, as well as the land around the former Sunwell.
Rommath''s storm of Holy Void, bound in a cage of Order, had twisted and roiled long enough, and finally gushed forth, moving at Kael''s sea of Phoenix Fire.
The blackened storm clouds rumbled with thunder as lightning began to tear away at the Phoenix Fire. Corrupted rain ate at its heat, and billowing gusts of wind suffocated the fires of Life.
Slowly, but surely, Kael''s fire was being snuffed out.
Despite this development, Kael felt no panic, no fear. That even should he meet his demise at this moment, his life would be fulfilled.
However, he trusted that the death of the phoenix was only temporary. That the advance of Rommath''s storm was merely a setback.
He was proven right, when a spell from Felo''melorn materialized his mind.
Instinctually absorbing this new magic, Kael felt his harmonization between Al''ar, and the Elemental Plane home to phoenixes intensify.
With the sun at his back, Kael experienced a connection between Nature, Life, Arcane, and Elemental fire unique to the Sunstrider lineage.
Relishing this feeling of peace and freedom, Kael completed his spell.
A moment later all of the Phoenix Fire remaining coalesced, and was directed into Al''ar.
His phoenix companion that he hatched as a boy, and had been a constant friend all his life took to the flame like a duck to water.
Al''ar joined the Phoenix Song with his own voice, and a chorus of unimaginable power joined him.
The phoenix swiftly ballooned in size. Every flap of his wings blew away the storm clouds, turning them into pure water. Wherever this Life infused water fell, a plant was quick to spring up.
When lightning crashed down, Al''ar would meet it with his claws, and crush it like a twig.
All the while, Kael was mounted upon Al''ar''s back, and held Felo''melorn aloft. The blade harmonized with the Phoenix Song, and constantly released an unending bath of Arcane and Light barrier around him.
Adjusting his XYZ coordinates, Kael teleported in front of his former instructor, only to look at him in astonishment.
The once stoic, and most learned individual within Quel''Thalas had had his contradicting inscriptions go awry, and lost the source of his power. As a result of this mana deprivation, he had become a hunchbacked, pale, gremlin looking creature. One lost to all reason.
Rommath had spent all the mana he had on hand, and regressed into a Wretched. Such was the fate of all Elves, should they run out of mana.
Dismounting Al''ar, Kael held out a hand, taking pity on this one time father-figure.
However, Rommath howled unintelligibly at Kael as he came closer, and reached at him with claws. Hands glowing with the ability to absorb mana, the deranged former Grand Magister came within a foot of the King, yet received a foot of steel through the chest for his troubles.
¡°I am sorry, master.¡± Kael¡¯Thas closed his eyes in sadness, yet no tears sprang forth as he gently let Rommath''s corpse down.
¡°Goldilocks!¡± Jan''alai flew to Kael''s side, yet when she saw him, she halted in her tracks. All of her exuberance, and overtly brash nature seemed to become transfixed by Kael''s lofty, golden form.
Kael gently smiled at her, and at his friend Vandercross as he too, stopped with an astonished expression.
¡°Greetings, my King.¡± Varrus bowed, yet Kael caught a smirk at the corner of his lips.
¡°First Seat.¡± Kael replied sternly.
A beat later, both Kael and Varrus laughed uproariously.
Glancing at the slowly rising sun, Kael held on to his blade. This time, instead of burning his hands so that he could see if he could still feel anymore, he felt a cool warmth. His father, and his father''s before him were there. One day, his son would wield Felo''melorn, but that day was long off still.
Today, he would set out with the Sunfury, and reclaim the lands lost to their enemies.
A new dawn had risen over Quel''Thalas, and with it, the return of the king.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter 72
Whilst Varrus had been hosting the gala, and was busy fighting against the old Convocation, the largest threat to Elf-kind at the moment, the Scourge, had not remained idle.
Within the provincial capitol of the Ghostlands, the city of Deatholme was a smoldering pile of ruins, and destruction.
The city stood upon the remains of a once ancient, and proud forest. One in which a world tree-a being of life vital to the entire continent, one that fought off the corrupting forces of the Old Gods-once stood.
Now transformed into an Undead treant, the world tree, Much like a smoke stack, or unfiltered nuclear power plant, inhaled life from the air, and spread pollution and death from her mouth. Sitting atop the highest point of the city, Tha''salah''s roots stretched across the entire province, and acted as an instant spy network. Her corruptive tendrils transformed every tree they came across into treants, furthering the Scourge''s ranks.
These roots seeped up water and nutrients from the soil, and pumped them up to the surface, weeping poisoned pools of toxic green sludge.
The odor of these pools was sweet, and magically ensnared passerbys, like how a venus flytrap caught an insect. Any lifeform foolish enough to bath in this poisonous waste was quickly turned into nothing more than bones, and raised to join the ever growing ranks of the Scourge.
Impaled upon her branches were those souls too strong willed to be raised into willing commanders. Former Heroes and Elites who refused the succor of willing Undeath, yet deemed too valuable to be turned into a mindless automaton, these poor unfortunate souls served as fuel for Tha''salah''s unholy taint. The bright blue souls shrieked in endless agony, crying out for release. Yet their only method of relief was to willingly sell themselves over to the Scourge.
Needless to say, after 3 weeks, the will of many a Hero and Elite had run thin, and the Scourge had bolstered its ranks to heights unseen.
The ghostly wails of these few Elites however, were only a fraction of the suffering to be found within Deatholme.
Banshees-ghostly Elven women who had lost their corporeal form, and took on the appearance of pale white/blue ghosts-were practicing their new racial ability. Possession.
A few handful of survivors had been captured, and made for easy pickings from these would be infiltrators. Any mortal possessed by one of these wicked ladies of the night suffered the fate of hearing, seeing, and experiencing all of the normal sensations of life, but being unable to move. It was as if they were a character in a game, or forced to experience life through a TV screen. Their words were not their own, their direction unknown. They were living in a personal Hell few could fathom.
When a Banshee was done with her host, she could leave freely with no consequence. Yet the victim would more often than not remain twitching, and stare vacantly off into nothing like a mindless lobotomite.
The horror continued, as those Elves who had kept their flesh-rebranded as the Darkfallen-likewise were practicing their new magic.
Obsessed with blood, they weaved the sanguine substance into shapes, and healed themselves, similarly to how a priest would use Light magic.
The most favorite torture method of the Darkfallen was desanguination. That is, to place their elongated fangs upon the victims neck, then slowly, painfully, rip the very lifeblood from their target until death.
Where once a river ran through the town, bringing fresh water, it now ran red with diluted blood, thanks to a twisted spell by the Darkfallen.
Yet for all their cruelties, the Darkfallen were still Elves. Instead of solely focusing on taking the province of Eversong, and uniting against Silvermoon, they had prioritized the pleasures of this new unlife.
Besides magical practice, they had begun to clear the rubble, reconstruct buildings, and paint them as a form of expressing the next chapter in their unlife. Unlike typical Undead, who had their emotions suppressed, the Darkfallen were uninhibited, and in fact, greatly enhanced from the typical Elf.
Every notion of anger was immediately acted upon. Lust oozed off the Darkfallen every time they feasted, and the addiction to magic increased five-fold.
Orgies of literal blood, sex, and open murder became the norm amongst this dysfunctional group. Machievelian ploys, treachery, and backstabs had become the norm, and paranoia gripped the hearts of many, fearful that their newfounded immortality could be taken away just as easily as it had the first time when the Sunwell was destroyed.
Only the fear of Queen Lana''thel, and her exquisite torturous methods, kept any semblance of order within this sick and twisted city.
Whilst these new creatures made of Death magic explored the depths of their newfound power, and depravity, the war between the living and the dead was being planned from within the keep of a castle.
Resting just beneath the eaves of Tha''salah, a grand castle-more art than defensive fortification-stood in defiance of the broken city down below.
Within the central hall, torn banners, and dim lights drew ones attention towards the back end of the building. There was a throne made of blackened wood from Tha''salah''s branches whereupon rested a fair skinned woman.
Her long white hair, and glowing crimson eyes marked her as one of the Darkfallen.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.
Surrounding the throne were numerous lieutenants waiting at her every beck and call.
Yet she ignored them all in favor of the projection hovering before her.
The projection was an imposing, winged, and hoofed Demon. It was one who inspired fear wherever his name was spoken. It was the leader of the Dreadlords, Tichondrius.
¡°How goes the war against your kin, Queen Lana''thel?¡± Tichondrius inquired, his deep bass voice boomed into the hall like an earthquake.
¡°Our plan is proceeding according to your instructions, Lord Tichondrius. We have secured the southern passage, so that your brothers cannot meddle in our scheme.¡± Lana''thel spoke in a submissive tone.
¡°My scheme is more complex than to simply limit those treacherous siblings of mine.¡± Tichondrius admonished.
¡°But of course, Lord Tichondrius. My spies and saboteurs are within Silvermoon. This kingdom and the remains of the Sunwell shall be yours upon your return.¡± Lana''thel smiled, and bowed.
¡°For your sake, I should hope so, Queen Lana''thel. I saw great promise in your race, which is why I broke your chains binding you to the Lich King. Complete your task, and the Darkfallen''s place in the Legion is all but secured.¡± Tichondrius commanded, before slowly fading away.
¡°Your will be done.¡± Lana''thel stood from her throne, and bowed towards the projection as the call was cut.
¡°Why bow to that cretin? He is on Kalimdor, a world away. The Night Elves will defeat him, just as they did during the first Legion invasion 10,000 years ago.¡± Crown Prince Tenris, a handsome Elf with black hair, and cultured features spoke with confidence, and haughty derision.
Upon his entrance, Lana''thel gestured towards her lieutenants to clear the room. The fact that her own child would so boldly discuss treachery in an open courtroom irked her to no end.
¡°Fool of a son! The Night Elves did not defeat the Legion! It was only when the Well of Eternity sundered the world, that the endless tide of Demons was driven from Azeroth!¡± Lana''thel was quick to drop the servile demeanor from earlier, and harshly rebuked Tenris.
¡°With our newfound power, why should we fear the Legion? Furthermore, we should exploit their inner discord. There is clearly high tensions amongst the Dread Lords, not to mention this figure known as the Lich King.¡± Tenris proposed.
¡°Do you take me for a simpleton? Of course I have begun counterespionage efforts. However, it is not that simple. Silvermoon has become a blindspot, as all of my spies have become incapacitated. No doubt it''s that witch Faedra''s doing.¡± Lana''thel hissed in anger as she mentioned her name.
¡°So you lied to Tichondrius then, very naughty mother.¡± Tenris wagged his finger.
¡°Enough. I will not brook any more disrespect. Especially after you failed to bring your brothers back.¡± Lana''thel said icily.
¡°It couldn''t be helped, he had a run in with the Vandercross whelp.¡± Tenris held his hands up, professing his innocence.
Lana''thel narrowed her eyes at Tenris, knowing he was lying, but decided to let it go.
She was in need of capable lieutenants, and as much as her eldest son irked her, he was capable.
¡°Very well. How is the army progressing? How goes the siege of Tranquillien? The sooner that thorn in our side is dealt with, the sooner we can march upon Silvermoon.¡± Lana''thel said as she leaned back into her throne, and idly sipped from a goblet full of blood.
¡°Not well, I''m afraid.¡± Tenris seemed to grin in schadenfreude.
¡°And why not?¡± Lana''thel spoke sweetly with a smile.
Tenris''s grin shriveled, and he bowed his head as he spoke.
¡°Keleseth cannot source any new blood. Our reserves are running low. Without it, your project cannot proceed, and the Darkfallen are unwilling mobilize unless they are paid.¡± Tenris explained.
¡°Your brother is more capable than you think. I will speak with Keleseth on this matter at a later date. What the real issue is, is the rate of consumption. The Darkfallen are a hedonistic curse upon this kingdom reveling in violence, and are squandering our most precious resource. Cut access to the blood pools, and ration the supply. Let them remember that it is through my grace that they have access to fresh blood at all!¡± Lana''thel imperiously ordered.
¡°Yes mother.¡± Tenris gracefully bowed, then turned on his heels to carry out his task.
¡°What do you think, Ariel?¡± Lana''thel questioned a corner of the room.
¡°He intends betrayal, my Queen. After some investigation, I learned that he slew Prince Taladram, and failed to destroy the anti-Undead tomes, as he had claimed in a previous report.¡± Ariel, a white haired Darkfallen ranger cloaked in black said, as she decloaked from camouflage.
¡°Silvermoon is retaken, my spies within eliminated. The Scourge are clearly plotting betrayal, as the Lich King is in a position not to dissimilar from our own. My children and subjects are more interested in playing games, and the Legion will not tolerate failure. Are we doomed to face defeat, my dear?¡± Lana''thel spoke tiredly, and errently swirled the goblet of crimson sanguine, and looked at it with disgust.
The Darkfallen were next to useless as they partied themselves into excess. Their new sense of fashion saw them cover everything in skulls, paint everything in purple and green, and replace instruments with screams of pain.
They had fallen so swiftly on a cultural level, that Lana''thel was shocked and dismayed. There was very little to work with when your most adept archmages were either trying to fuck her, kill her, or both at once. At this point, it was only thanks to her reputation, and surprisingly high skill in Blood magic that left the creeps at bay.
¡°...you could always answer Lady Faedra¡¯s missives. My rangers have also contacted Sylvannas. A coup against the Dreadlords is in the works.¡± Ariel slowly suggested, flinching upon mentioning Lana''thel''s most hated rival.
¡°And if the Legion should get ahold of the Well of Eternity, a limitless font of mana, mind you, all these plots and schemes would vanish in the face of overwhelming power.¡± Lana''thel bemoaned, and palmed her face in despair.
Lana''thel recognized that she was only a tool, and that Tichondrius''s promises were as valuable as a wet fart. Yet should she refuse him, then an even worse fate than being cursed to live as a Darkfallen awaited her.
¡°My Queen, you have played the game against Anastarian, Vandercross, Faedra, and more for millenia. You cannot allow one failure to cause uncertainty and doubt!¡± Ariel spoke up with heat and passion.
¡°Of course, thank you for the reminder, my dear. If only you didn''t have to marry that fool, Helios to keep up appearances, then I could have you all to myself!¡± Lana''thel said huskily as she disrobed.
¡°My Queen, I-!¡±
¡°Come comfort your sovereign, Ariel, your Queen demands it!¡±
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter 73
Varrus witnessed Kael''s triumph just as he was moving to reinforce his beleaguered friend.
When he came to Kael¡¯s side, he saw that the newly christened King had been surrounded by an orange wave of energy similar to what surrounded a Super Saiyan from DBZ.
Upon releasing his aura, the portal to the Elemental Planes disappeared, a feeling of calm and stateliness suffused the young monarch.
Kael¡¯Thas had truly come into his own.
¡°Hm.¡± Varrus nodded with a grin, and gave a thumbs up.
Kael grinned back, but was quick to compose himself. He was about to say something, but had his perfect hair get mussed up as 6''5ft of towering Troll green muscle collided into him.
¡°None of that when it''s just friends around, Goldilocks!¡± Jan''alai stepped forward, and wrapped her arms around the back of his head, pulling him in for a tight hug.
Varrus noticed that the Forest Troll seemed to hold back tears, turning her head out of Kael¡¯s line of sight, and masked her overwhelming emotion with bravado.
Kael''s face was starting to purple, and he began to tap on her arm for release.
Varrus chuckled at the sight of it all, but he had something more important than indulging in their foreplay.
Whilst they were busy undergoing their antics, Varrus discreetly approached Rommath''s corpse.
Side eyeing Jan''alai practically threw the King-and wasn''t that an odd thought to get used to?-into another bear hug, Varrus began his heist.
Unsheathing his blade, Varrus quickly dismembered Rommath''s corpse separately into limbs, head, and torso so he could hold them in his inventory. Unfortunately the Skyrim UI was finicky, and he could not store a whole corpse within, so he got around that by taking parts of the whole.
As for why he would take Rommath''s corpse?
Necromancy of course!
As much as he hated the practice, and did not intend to use it on a wide scale-or publicly for that matter-it could always act as an ace in the hole.
With the Dead Thrall spell, Varrus could permanently raise an Undead under his control until they perished. While his Conjuration skill wasn''t high enough yet, he was hoping that with the way the Warcraft world and the Skyrim interface played off of one another, he might be able to cast Undead Thrall more than once.
Like with Elemental summons, for every 200 base mana, he could summon a bound Elemental. With the way the system was set up, he''d never become the next Lich King, able to control millions like some RTS gamer God, but that didn''t mean necromancy was a tech tree that he should ignore.
Perhaps there would be a possibility for him to raise multiple, powerful Undead Heroes in the future.
Finished with the task at hand, Varrus saw that the other battlefield was wrapped up too. With Rommath dead, the portly priest, Dawnbringer, was unable to stay animated, and had collapsed mid combat.
It spoke to his skill that Rho''dan, the Crossguard, Helios, and Lor''Themar couldn''t one tap him. Or at least close out the fight before Rommath was taken out.
Recognizing the priest and the alchemist as the only former Convocation members who didn''t have their bodies destroyed, Varrus sent a quick message via his scrying orb to Rho''dan, telling him to meet back home, and to discreetly store the corpses in the family vault.
Varrus would have a use sometime down the line for a difficult to kill, tireless healer, as well as the potion master in his ranks.
Perhaps he could have her begin studying Elven fertility, and attempt to create a potion increasing viability. He''d just have to make sure no one learnt of her, or the priest any time soon.
Varrus was sure he could survive any public backlash if his necromancy became public knowledge, what with all his loudest detractors rotting in prison or dead, but Elves had long lives, and held longer grudges. There was no need to draw shade to himself if he didn''t have to.
After all, why invite enemies to bed, when he could let sleeping dogs lie?
Of the two Convocation corpses he would receive, he valued Dawnbringer the most.
Varrus had inherited memories of all the Convocation members, and out of all of them, Dawnbringer was the kindest of them all.
The portly priest treated the playboy Varrus without prejudice, and despite being the foremost practitioner of the Light, was never preachy. He was the rare religious type that eschewed wealth, and actually practiced what he preached, without condescension.
The Undead Thrall spell would give Varrus total command over his subjects, and would be needed for the genius spellcaster Rommath, or the catty potioneer Starbottle, however, Varrus was interested in seeing what Dawnbringer had to offer House Vandercross.
If he turned out to be as true and wholesome as Varrus''s memories made him out to be, then Varrus was considering replacing Sylvannas as leader of the Forsaken, and installing Dawnbringer instead. With his faith in the Light, and good nature, that could be precisely what Varrus could use to take over that faction.
But that was only a possibility. The Forsaken were a damned lot full of untrustworthy characters. It was a group Varrus had considered eliminating, but that didn''t mean they couldn''t have a use. Whether that be temporary or long term remained to be seen.
During Varrus''s plotting for the future, and Kael''s ¡®death by tomboy Troll¡¯, Syra poked Varrus in the side for some attention, and looked at him in curiosity.
After he completed Rommath''s butchery, and disappeared the magister''s limbs into his inventory, Varrus realized he must look hella suspicious, yet she remained silent.
Putting a finger to his lips, Varrus grinned, and nodded towards Kael/Jan''alai, indicating that they should keep things secret from the duo.
Syra slowly nodded her head.
¡®Good girl.¡¯ Varrus thought to himself, and winked in appreciation of her ability to recognize when subtly was needed.
There was nothing more satisfying than working with someone on the same wavelength as you. Varrus concluded.
Whilst Varrus was pleased by this revelation, his wife had other thoughts in mind.
Like a cat analyzing its prey, Syra playfully pounced on Varrus, and mimicked Jan''alai, pulling him in close, and suffocating him between her breasts.
Varrus, caught unaware, was quick to realize that Syra had in fact not gotten the memo!
¡°Haha, that''s the spirit bestie! You''ve got to hoist him up on your back, like this, so he knows who is in charge, and wears the pants in this relationship!¡± Jan''alai flashed her teeth, and hauled Kael¡¯Thas on top of her shoulders.
¡®Ah hell no!¡¯ Varrus thought to himself.
Ears twitching in irritation, Varrus wrapped up Syra by the legs, and threw her over his shoulders with some bastardized MMA move, and had her mount him like a kid riding their dad''s shoulders.
Syra''s smooth legs dangled daintily down Varrus''s chest, and brushed up against his cheeks, tickling him.
Varrus felt himself begin to harden, and felt Syra''s cool hands pulling at his forehead, and massaging the side of his head.
Looking up, Varrus was graced with golden eyes, a brilliant smile, and a radiant complexion.
Syra''s skin tone shone vividly in the morning sun, putting all skincare actresses to shame.
Planting a wet kiss on his lips, Syra''s smile widened as Varrus stood still, twitterpated.
Varrus rapidly blinked as he felt his heart speed up, and blushed in embarrassment as Syra caught him out.
Owning the moment, and his appreciation for her natural beauty, Varrus stuck out his lips, showing he was hungry for more.
Syra leaned down for a kiss, only to stop a millimeter away, just barely scraping the tip of his lip, and pulled away.
¡°Aha! You see Goldilocks, this is what is known as edging! I saw it in a documentary once¡± Jan''alai loudly slapped one hand into the palm of another in excitement, as if she were vividly describing a nature documentary.
The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
¡®What kind of plays were the High Elves of Quel¡¯Thalas releasing!?¡¯ Varrus raised his eyebrows in surprise. It seemed even immortals enjoyed risque material!
¡°Notice her technique, the subtle motion of her toe sliding down his robe and onto his shaf-¡±
¡°Enough! I am King now, and you shall show me the respect I deserve! A parade for the Sunfury is underway, and I must be there! We simply have no time for this!¡± Kael huffed.
¡°So sexy when you command me! You''re right Goldilocks, there''s time for edging later. You have another long, boring speech to deliver! Let''s go!¡± Jan''alai eagerly shouted, then bolted off towards the shores of Quel''Danas, and the direction of Silvermoon.
Varrus was speechless at the sudden departure of his best friend and his lover.
What, no goodbye?
¡°She knows she can fly, right?¡± Syra inquiringly asked from the top of Varrus''s shoulders.
¡°The question, my love, is if Kael remembers that she can fly. Or perhaps he prefers that position!¡± Varrus guffawed, and began to shake with laughter.
¡°Easy there. Woah!¡± Syra gently gripped Varrus''s hair, and acted like she was soothing a rampaging broncho.
¡°Man, what a day. Want to go home, and-¡±
¡°Onward! We have to beat them to the edge of the square!¡± Syra suddenly clicked her heels into Varrus''s sides to make him move faster.
Varrus looked up at her with a deadpan ¡®you cannot be serious right now¡¯ look.
¡°I''ve never been to a parade before.¡± Syra said, looking pitifully at him like a cold puppy out in the rain.
¡°But the floats-¡± Varrus said, raising his hand with his index finger pointing skyward.
¡°We were in the parade, not to the parade.¡± Syra said somewhat snobbishly.
¡®Damn, she¡¯s technically correct¡the best kind of correct!¡¯ Varrus thought to himself as his eye twitched.
¡°Fine.¡± Varrus said, then closed his eyes, and groaned towards the heavens. His shoulders slightly slumped defeated, and he felt his arousal shrivel up.
¡®Don''t worry little guy, we''ll get in before the night is out.¡¯ Varrus reassured himself, and nodded with a fake smile plastered across his face to lighten the mood, and get through the day.
¡°Hyah! We ride!¡± Syra shouted, and clapped her hands.
Varrus began to run forward, but then paused.
¡°Why don''t we take those hawkstriders we arrived on?¡± Varrus paused, and pointed at the hawkstriders tied up outside of the lip of the crater to the Sunwell.
Syra unsheathed her sword, and a bright light began to coalesce around its edge.
¡°Haha¡! A joke my dear!¡± Varrus laughed, and continued his jog.
At the same time, he narrowed his eyes in thought. This outcome was oddly reminiscent of the time they competed at capture the flag. Syra was way too invested in this.
Hm.
Hmmm.
¡°You want to beat Jan''alai in a race, don''t you?¡± Varrus said in a teasing tone of voice, expecting to catch Syra out.
¡°It took you that long to figure it out? Good, then I don''t need to tell you the obvious. Speed up!¡± Syra said condescendingly with a hair flick.
¡®Bitch!¡¯ Varrus tsked.
¡°Of course you know if you lose, we can focus on making children another night~.¡± Syra said matter of factly, and examined her nails.
¡®As if you have dirt there you-! Gah!¡¯
Varrus took a deep breath, and realized she was probably bluffing. Syra had initiated sexual contact every day now, her dream of making a sports team¡¯s worth of children was very real¡Unless she had been picking up some bad habits from that barbarian of a woman!
Varrus knew that friendship was nothing but trouble!
Well¡while it was somewhat demeaning, Syra seemed to be having fun, and there was nothing like a little lightheartedness after a battle to the death.
It was during his sprint to catch up to Jan''alai, Varrus began to reflect upon the battle, and the imminent future.
Climbing out of the pit, Varrus glanced back one last time at the sight of his biggest battle yet. Taking in the destruction, and subsequent renewal of plants due to Kael''s magic, Varrus imagined the sight of a restored Sunwell.
With a font of power like that under his control, he could connect it to the Leylines, and have his Dwarven Autocannon''s fire with unlimited ammo.
Or with the effects of limitless stamina, he and Syra could work even harder to fulfill her dream.
However, Varrus had no immediate plans on restoring the Sunwell. At least not until Archimonde and the Legion were defeated on Kalimdor by the Night Elves. That and not until he had enough Rune Stones set up by Telonicus. Their mana masking ability was just too good to pass up.
Because any way the Demons caught wind of another font of near limitless mana, then Varrus would bang his head on the wall in consternation!
Alternatively, he could milk the Blood Elves'' reliance on his Mana Stones for a bit longer, but it was a pain in the ass having to constantly supply them, and guard against mana addicted thieves. Besides, once he restored the Sunwell, Varrus would be hailed as a savior.
The Sunwell after all, did not just supply mana, and limitless stamina, but also granted immortality. With it around, the Darkfallen would lose their appeal, and no more potential traitors would be drawn to their seductive offers of immortality.
In accordance with that thought, Varrus planned on restoring the Sunwell in a few months to a year''s time.
Besides the restoration of the Sunwell, he had a few more immediate goals in mind.
First of all, he had to finish purging the plagued land from the rest of Silvermoon, and cast his patented Vanderbricks. Once that was finished, Kael should also be done cleaning up the side missions, and they could focus their efforts on retaking the Ghostlands from the Scourge.
In the meantime, Varrus could study the memory crystal his father had left him. Anyway that Varrus could learn the frankly broken family magic of the Mana Stones, then Varrus would become the greatest anti-mage in history. The ability to absorb attributed magic of any type was simply astounding.
Not only that, but as Vandercross demonstrated, that energy could be used to either reinforce the Mana Stone forest, transform into Elementals, and more. Furthermore, the stored energy could be used as a battery, or even in isolation as a safe means of study.
If Varrus remembered correctly, in cannon, Telonicus, the Chief Engineer used Void energy batteries to power massive golems of war. A mageotech renaissance was on the horizon, and Varrus aimed to be on the cutting edge of this new civilizational path forward.
But he couldn''t do it alone.
The Elves were a strong people, blessed with an affinity for magic, and a keen intelligence, yet allergic to manual labor. In many ways they mirrored modern society.
Which is where Varrus''s ploy to establish a faction, the Covenant, came into play.
His first target were the Kobold¡¯s.
Off the eastern seaboard was an enclave of Kobolds. Rat-like creatures standing at about the height of Varrus''s navel, they excelled at digging, and preferred living underground.
They weren''t a particularly intelligent race, and chose their leader based upon the size of the candlestick they wore on their head. This cultural idiosyncrasy applied even to foreigners of a different race or appearance.
After the Sunfury had their parade, and Varrus cleaned out the city, the Kobolds would be his first visit.
Silvermoon was in dire need of raw materials, whether it be for buildings, constructing golems, or those necessary for enchanting, the Kobolds would be Varrus''s answer to this supply shortage.
However, these were all things to be undertaken in the near future. What really had him curious in the aftermath of this battle were two things.
One, how did Halduron come into possession of Rommath''s tome. Because anyway Varrus looked at it, the situation was suspicious. As soon as this parade was over, Varrus was going to confront Faedra, and see what she knew about this. For a supposed spymaster, and famed assassin, Varrus was irked that she was wholly absent from this battle. While he didn''t trust her enough to seek her aid directly, that didn''t mean she could sit such an important battle out on their home turf, and not draw his suspicion.
Secondly, he was curious about Syra''s use of Void energy, and why she wasn''t mentally corrupted. He saw her eyes turn heterochromatic, one golden, the other purple, yet now both were back to her normal golden glow.
Because if this ¡®shounen main character¡¯ transformative battlestate could be learnt by him, or others, then the armed forces of Quel''Thalas would achieve another qualitative transformation.
This question of his, thankfully, could be answered immediately.
¡°Syra, my Star, how is it that you can merge the powers of Light, and Void together, yet remain whole?¡± Varrus said as he ran.
¡°Love.¡± Syra replied without a second''s hesitation, leaving Varrus stumped.
Glancing up at her, Varrus saw the fires of obsession burning in her eyes.
¡®Right. Love. Of course.¡¯ Varrus drily thought to himself.
He was surprised it wasn''t something like determination. That was the bread and butter of every MC after all.
Varrus sighed to himself as there seemed to be no easy answer. However, thinking about the obsessive look in her eyes, Varrus had a ¡®eureka¡¯ moment.
It wasn''t hard work, or determination that allowed Syra to merge the two, and come out alright! It was her obsession!
The Light and the Void preyed upon one''s obsession. With the Light making someone desire unity by any means, whereas the Void was about selfishness. Syra was selfishly obsessed with protecting Varrus, to the point of coveting him, and harming all others that took his attention away from her.
It was a contradiction between the two ethos''s!
Varrus didn''t think he had it in him to attain such a state, however, Koren, with his obsession over the Sunwell, and murder of his father could be the perfect trial candidate. Thaladred the Darkener, and Helios were also potential test subjects. In fact, with the great loss suffered throughout Elven society, it was likely that many such contradicting obsessions had emerged amongst the general population.
As frightening as the Void was, it did not belong to the Old Gods, or the Void Lords who created them. Just as Arcane did not belong to the Titans, or the Light to the Naaru. Having witnessed proof of his wife wielding the Void, and remaining more or less ¡®normal,¡¯ he would be a fool to not pursue the power that the Holy Void could produce.
¡°Thank you Syra, you are simply an inspiration.¡± Varrus lovingly stroked her calf, and said in gratitude.
¡°Less talking, more walking! We win.¡± Syra spoke with an edge, and seemed locked in, like a determined gamer in the last minute of a match.
Varrus rolled his eyes, yet complied with a smile. She was usually so quiet, but he had to say, this competitive side of hers was quite cute!
Picking up speed, Varrus could only chuckle at her antics.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
AN: Read 25 chapters ahead at KarpQQ pa t r on
Chapter 74
Varrus had lost the foot race against Jan''alai, but he didn''t care much at the moment, as the military parade was in full swing.
He had returned to Silvermoon just in time to officiate the Sunfury''s virgin march against the enemies of Quel''Thalas, and was waiting at the gates along with the rest of the Convocation to officially sign off on this military campaign, and show the people that despite the ongoing rumors and speculation of last night''s gala, their government was very much intact, and united on one front.
The parade was honestly better than Varrus had expected. He was shocked, and full of national pride at what he was witnessing.
Practically the entire city had turned out to cheer the Sunfury on. The sound of bells, cheers, and well wishes were almost deafening.
Marching down the main street, something close to 40,000 Elves and their auxiliary forces moved in synchronization. That was an insane 20% of the 200,000+ surviving citizens of Silvermoon!
The Blood Elves truly lived up to their name, and were thirsting for revenge!
The banner of the Sunfury, a red phoenix aquila on a purple banner hung down windows, and was waved by the populace lining the sides of the streets.
Heavy plate boots roughly clanked along the road as the warriors and paladins lead from the vanguard.
At the front of the column marched the most powerful Elites and Heroes amongst the warriors and paladins. Their crimson thorium armor shone brightly in the morning sun. Behind them were the blue mithril, and green glass armored soldiers.
Any casual glance with Mana Sight, and the civilians could tell that powerful enchantments covered each and every one of these suits.
In total, there were 3,200 sets of glass armor, 500 sets of mithril armor, and 30 sets of thorium armor that Varrus had gifted to the Sunfury.
Already, newspapers, and recordings on scrying orbs had detailed the defensive capabilities of these armors the night before during the Vandercross Gala.
When the people saw the soldiers marching in them, they cheered like a group seeing their favorite band at a concert. The praise was especially fervent towards those wearing thorium. Elves respected magic above all else, but they were also drawn to power like a moth to flame.
Those men and women inside the crimson armor stood proud as they marched under golden arches, and freshly repaired walkways.
The grand entrance of the warriors and paladins was followed up by a contingent of 2,000 Arcane Golems. Each one was coated in plate armor, and powered by one of Varrus''s mana stones.
The artificers and magisters of Silvermoon had worked overtime, and mindlessly churned out hundreds of war golems over the last two weeks.
Reminiscent of Space Marines in terminator armor, these crimson plated, autonomous machines of destruction ominously plodded along behind the warriors. Standing on average at a height of 9ft, the golems shook the earth during this massed march.
Commanded via scrying orb, they could be manually controlled like a drone from Eacommaor be given basic commands by whoever held a control rod. Should none of those be available, they were programmed to obey the nearest Elf bearing the Sunfury crest on their armor.
They came equipped with four spells. Two of them were traditional to Arcane Golems. Arcane Explosion, and Arcane Surge.
Arcane Explosion was an AOE burst of pure Arcane in a 5-10ft radius that shredded flesh, and could be used defensively to knock projectiles off their path.
Arcane Surge was a self destruct feature that took any nearby foes out in a bang.
Powered by a Master tier Mana Stone each, they packed an insane amount of mana compared to the older models of Arcane Golem. As such, they were now capable of two other spells, Mana Shield, and Arcane Missile.
Varrus wished he had more time and materials, otherwise he would have made the golems from scratch, and enchanted them piece by piece. Unfortunately he was pressed for time, and this was all that could be mustered.
These killer terminators, tanks in all but name, were flanked by a detachment of hawkstrider knights. Wielding magical lances that doubled as staves capable of medium ranged, and contact elemental magic, they served as light cavalry focused on flanking and harassment.
In the middle of the column, Kael¡¯Thas was mounted upon Al''ar, and holding his reforged sword aloft.
The restored symbol of kingship shone brightly, and stood a symbol of hope, and Elven supremacy. Soothing melodies resonated from the blade, and all who heard it were relieved of their mental fatigue.
¡°Kieer!¡± Al''ar screeched alongside Kael¡¯Thas, and rained harmless phoenix fire upon the ground in a golden shower.
Following up behind the King were a contingent of solemn rangers, mages and priests.
Dozens of carts brought up the end of the line. Within them were over 50 Mana Cannons, as well as massive, boulder sized Mana Stones necessary for the campaign.
When the procession finally exited through the main gate, and organized themselves into a loose battalion, Kael¡¯Thas levitated himself down to Varrus''s position.
Kael¡¯Thas kneeled down, and Varrus retrieved a crown from his inventory.
Although Kael had become King, and everyone had felt it an hour ago, this bit of political theater was necessary so that the populace could see it for themselves.
¡°Prince Kael¡¯Thas Sunstrider, son of Anasterian, do you swear to protect the safety of the people of Quel''Thalas?¡±
¡°I shall.¡±
¡°Do you swear to uphold the laws, norms, and customs of our people?¡±
¡°I shall.¡±
¡°Then swear in the name of your ancestors, and know yourself to be King!¡± Varrus ended, and placed the crown atop Kael''s head.
Kael finished his oaths, and rose amidst a storm of thundering applause.
¡°As my first act as King, I shall remove the plague that has besotten our lands. Sunfury, move out!¡± Kael shouted.
Glancing at Varrus one last time, Kael remounted Al''ar, and left with his army.
Syra squeezed Varrus''s hand as the Sunfury finally disappeared on the horizon, and the crowd began to disperse.
¡°Let''s go, I have a few words to say to your mother. If you would lead me to her?¡± Varrus turned around, and gestured towards the city.
Syra''s grip on his hand tightened somewhat, and she took off.
Varrus followed along, and before he knew it, they had entered a darker location within the city.
It was the notorious den of rogues, and other shady folk.
Murder Row.
Where most of Silvermoon was open, with wide streets, and bountiful sunlight, this location was covered in a tarp, casting a perpetual shade over a region of the city rife with alleyways, hidden doors, cellars, and other non-distinct entrances.
Few Elves walked these streets in the open, as it was customary to go about your business in stealth. Any who were caught in the open were instantly identified as outsiders.
Varrus felt slightly uncomfortable as the main street they were on appeared to be completely unoccupied.
However, he had the Detect Life spell, and could see a dozen silhouettes surrounding them after he had cast it.
Fortunately, not everyone was on the same level as Faedra. Her ability to disappear like Batman was simply uncanny.
Varrus was about to do something about these unwelcome pests, when Syra unsheathed her sword, and moved in a flash of blinding white light.
A crack like a flashbang spread out from her position, revealing the rogues, as well as temporarily blinding their eyes, and discombobulating their ears.
Her massive buster sword swiped away at the dozen rogues, nicking ligaments, and in three cases, severing hands.
The dozen or so rogues all fell to the ground, twitching and moaning in pain, unable to stand.
Syra was about to finish one of them off, when a thrown dagger knocked the sword off course, causing her to plunge her blade just an inch away from the rogue''s neck.
¡°Sorry sorry, they were just curious, is all! Ha ha!¡± An Elf dressed in a yellow circus performers outfit, and wearing clown makeup said as he materialized out of stealth.
Varrus narrowed his eyes. Another person he could not ascertain with his Detect Lige spell. And to be able to catch Syra off guard like that. This clown must be a Hero.
Raising his guard, Varrus prepared himself for a fight.
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
Syra wordlessly pointed her sword at the clown, her eyes entered their heterochromatic state, indicating the seriousness of the situation.
Varrus didn''t know what was going on, but he was prepared to back his wife up with overwhelming violence.
¡°Easy easy, Morcurio is a peace loving clown! Mother has seen you, and invites you home. Sister, sister.¡± The clown, Morcurio said, holding his arms up high, like a suspect being shouted at by the police to ¡®show their hands.¡¯
Varrus glanced curiously at Syra, and silently mouthed: ¡®A brother?¡¯
¡°It¡¯s complicated.¡± Syra huffed in annoyance, and sheathed her sword.
¡°So so, this is the famed successor to Vandercross! You treat my adorable little sister right, right?¡± The clown cartwheeled up to Varrus so fast, Varrus could only blink and he saw the man standing within 2 feet of his face.
Varrus, already primed for a conflict, instinctively let loose with telekinesis, and finger flicked Morcurio into a nearby wall.
The clown wasn''t some warrior or paladin with insane defense/stamina, and fell to the ground with a thump.
At the same time that he had used telekinesis, Varrus felt a whoosh in the air right where Morcurio had been. Syra''s sword sank into the cobblestone street, the intent to murder nakedly on display from her actions.
Morcurio gave Varrus a thumbs up, and a toothy grin. Dusting himself off, he Blinked away with a laugh as Syra followed up her attack with another few swipes. Yet each and every one of them missed by an inch.
Varrus followed along, chalking this entire episode up to strange family bonding. The clown never struck back, and seemed to be leading them somewhere as they left the main street, and began going down a twisting maze of alleyways, and underground passages.
¡°Go go, see mom, mom.¡± Morcurio laughed, then disappeared in a cloud of smoke.
A door stood where Morcurio disappeared, yet due to Syra''s forward momentum, it was blasted open by the strength of her attack.
¡°Syra, Varrus. Those doors don''t come cheap, you know.¡± Faedra slowly drawled as she petted a black cat in her lap.
A black haired beauty dressed in a black cloak was the perfect description for a Disney villain, yet that woman was his mother-in-law.
Peering into a room so dark he could barely see, Varrus was surprised by the dozens of screens depicting scenes from all around the world.
One screen in particular drew his eye. It depicted Jaina and Thrall teaming up against some Demons.
¡°Curious, isn''t it? Who would have thought that a former slave would ally with the genius Proudmoore girl. How scandalous!¡± Faedra scoffed in the back of her hand.
Yet her face showed no amusement, and her eyes never once turned towards the screen. Her attention was solely fixated on Varrus''s reaction.
¡°So you know of Thrall''s origins, impressive. You seem none-to concerned that the Burning Legion is on the cusp of claiming the new Well of Eternity.¡± Varrus replied in kind, raising an eyebrow at the Mistress of Murder.
¡°The same to you, Varrus. Predicting the King''s intentions, one might think you had a crystal ball foretelling the future. However, my confidence is built upon experience. If you only knew the powers of Malfurion Stormrage, or the power of Elune, then you would be as unconcerned as me. But enough about myself, what brings you to my mm, doorstep.¡± Faedra subtly smiled as she gestured towards the broken remains of Syra''s violent entrance.
¡°The traitors in the city, why didn''t you deal with them?¡± Varrus stepped deeper into the room, and said with some hostility.
¡°Temper, temper. Who is to say I have not been dealing with traitors? Just because I am not so bold as to host an obvious trap of a party-known as the Last Dance, really?-does not mean I have not been doing my part to clean up the refuse investing Silvermoon.¡± Faedra mocked. With a snap of her fingers, a spotlight shined above them.
There, on the 2nd floor of the room, a row of spikes had more than 100 Elven heads mounted upon them.
¡°A grim display, one I had intended on showcasing to the populace in an effort to sow fear and division amongst the traitors. However, your grand battle the other night, and naked slaughter at the gala was simply sublime.¡± Faedra slow clapped at Varrus.
Syra cleared her throat, prompting Faedra to pause mid clap.
¡°But of course, the net you spread was wide, and some fish are expected to have escaped.¡± Faedra shrugged her shoulders, and set the cat down from her lap.
Varrus rolled his eyes. As if he would let flattery from this creepy immortal get to his head. He still recalled the naked look of derision she had directed at him when he first came into this world.
¡°Yes, the gala. Why was it that I learnt of the Grand Magister''s treachery so late? As a family, we should help one another. Don''t you think that''s something you should have informed me of? Instead, I learnt of Rommath''s attempt on my life from the resident playboy Farstrider Commander.¡± Varrus pulled back on his hostility, and calmly admonished Faedra, implying her incompetence.
¡°Am I your maid, reminding you of the time of day, or to help you dress yourself? Besides, it was by my hand that Halduron led you two to Rommath. Syra, my dear, you were supposed to investigate the Magisters Spire that night, yet you chased after one of the former Prince''s. That singular, unforeseen variable took you off his trail, and Halduron was forced to get creative.¡± Faedra shook her head, and tsked at them like a parent disappointed in the failure of their child.
Varrus glanced at Syra, only to see his wife turn away, confirming Faedra''s statement.
Faedra raised an eyebrow as Varrus remained silent. The air in the room grew awkward, and Varrus felt as if all the heat and fiery accusations he had entered the room with, had vanished, like smoke on the wind.
His mother-in-law was suspicious as all Hell, yet she seemed to always have an answer for his inquiries. She wasn''t against him-for the moment-and was family.
Fuck. This woman really managed to piss Varrus off!
¡®Was this a power that all mother-in-law''s possess throughout space and time?!¡¯ Varrus thought to himself, and barely held back from grinding his teeth, so as not to give this evil woman any more ammunition.
¡°Poor thing, so full of vim and vigor, yet you''re here instead of working to make me grandchildren. If you¡¯re so free, how about we play another game?¡± Faedra said in mock pity.
Varrus felt a metaphorical stomach punch, as he had lost the race against Jan''alai earlier, and Faedra''s words had rung true. However, the last time they had played a game, Faedra had put them onto Halduron''s trail¡a trail that had been planned by this devious woman since the beginning. Whatever game she had cooking in that spider''s mind of hers, it was likely to result in a similar outcome.
¡but at the end of the day, despite his annoying personality, Halduron had been useful, leading to Varrus cleaning out the upper echelons of traitors in Elven society.
Fuck, saying no wasn''t even an option!
Barely keeping his face placid, like a calm pool of water, Varrus then replied with a smile.
¡°The terms?¡± Varrus asked.
¡°How about another information session? Of course, when this is over, I want you to release little Halduron from your dungeon. He''s done so much for us, why keep him locked up?¡± Faedra said, as she examined a few of the screens.
¡°Very well. In return, I want to know everything you have on our enemies in the Ghostlands.¡± Varrus replied.
¡°The game has begun. Youth before beauty, my dear.¡± Faedra clapped, and nodded at Varrus. She then conjured herself a glass of wine, and took a sip.
Pausing to think about what kind of information was important enough to be shared, Varrus opened up with a teaser.
¡°The founder of the Silver Hands, Saiden Dathrohan has been slain. His corpse is being piloted like a skin suit by the Dreadlord, Mal''Ganis.¡±
¡°How fun. The Kobolds you are so interested in are terrified of an ancient evil. Should you desire their loyalty, I think you know what needs to be done.¡± Faedra raised her goblet in salute, then wet her lips on the cherry red.
Varrus frowned, as he thought up factoids.
¡°The Old God, C''Thun is straining at the barrier in his prison on Kalimdor. His minions stir, and have begun snatching up life force, and corrupting nearby life forms to his will.¡± Varrus warned with the intention of Faedra sending more spies in the area.
The Old Gods didn''t seem to be treated as much of a threat by the developers of WoW, only serving as footnotes to be blasted along the way. Yet to Varrus, they were now simple enemy. The sooner he could make others aware of them, the less of a headache he would have once those cancerous Void beings were taken care of.
¡°Fascinating, you know of the Old Ones? Hmm, I''ll let you in on a tidbit of similar import. The Titan Keeper Tyr''s fist, and his hammer are in a grave at the bottom of Brightwater Lake in Tirisfal Glades.¡± Faedra replied, and handed a map with a marker of the location.
Varrus was somewhat aware of this factoid, yet to have it confirmed, along with a specific location was massive!
To get his hands on a weapon of that power, as well as the Titan Keeper''s fist¡if there was any of his blood remaining, then Varrus might be able to do some experiments.
After all, Titan Keeper blood made the villain of the Pandaria expansion, Lei Shen into an immortal lightning sorcerer king.
This was a lead worth exploring once everything had cooled off.
¡°The Black Dragonflight has mind controlled King Varrion Wrynn, as well as the other nobles of Stormwind.¡± Varrus said as the next round of information sharing took place.
¡°Hmm, I think that''s about it for today. Here, take this scroll, it should have everything you should need to wage war against Lana''thel.¡± Faedra yawned as she casually tossed a scroll at Varrus from a nearby pouch.
Varrus caught the scroll, and finally couldn''t hold back an expression from showing on his face, as his eyebrows began to twitch uncontrollably. The witch had the info he was after prepared ahead of time?!
¡°Oh, and release the poor boy Halduron while you¡¯re at it.¡± Faedra said as an afterthought, as she waved them away with the back of her hand.
Varrus opened his mouth to say something, but found himself warped back outside to the entrance of Murder Row.
Syra, conspicuously was not by his side.
Narrowing his eyes, Varrus raised his hand, and was going to find her with the Clairvoyance spell, when the clown, Morcurio came out of an alleyway, and honked on a comically large red nose.
¡°Sister sister, will be back soon. Just some mother, daughter bonding time, time.¡± Morcurio smiled.
Varrus silently assessed the smiling clown, and considered murder.
It was only after Syra stepped out of a portal a moment later that he disregarded such thoughts of violence.
Syra snorted at the clown as he teleported away, then held onto Varrus for a tight hug.
¡°Let''s go home.¡± Syra quietly said.
Varrus noticed a slight limp in her step, and he felt his breath hitch. That witch was dead the next time he saw her!
Syra glanced at Varrus, and snuggled into his shoulder.
¡°Do not worry, my Sun. This was my own doing. She should learn not to talk down to my husband.¡± Syra said hotly as if she were declaring Varrus were her prized possession.
Varrus opened his mouth to say something, then wisely snapped it shut as a devious smirk spread across his face.
It would seem baby making was back on the table tonight!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Meanwhile, back in Faedra''s lair, the black haired Mistress of Murder was slumped in her seat, calmly pouring healing potion after healing potion on her crushed throat.
¡°That that girl takes after her mother, hm, hm.¡± Morcurio chuckled, deflecting a thrown dagger coming for his face for his troubles.
¡°There is no finer weapon in all of Azeroth. She will do what needs to be done.¡± Faedra rasped in pride, as her focus was entirely placed upon a screen depicting Syra nuzzling into Varrus¡¯s shoulder as they left Murder Row.
Morcurio rolled his eyes, he knew the real reason why Faedra had so many screens, and became a spymaster.
¡®What a voyeur.¡¯
Chapter 75
Varrus was out in some ruins training his new Mana Stone magic, but was seeing little success. However, he had made great strides in other fields, as had the other Heroes of Quel''Thalas.
Two weeks had passed since Kael had set out with the Sunfury, and both he and the Convocation had made substantial progress.
The teleportation network throughout Silvermoon was all but finished, allowing swift travel between zones for the general citizenry at large. Tae''thelon had then been charged with setting up permanent portals to all other major settlements.
Sunstrider Square, as the most open, and heavily guarded place within the kingdom was determined as the safest place towards this endeavor.
As a result, a portal had been established between Silvermoon, and Sunsail Anchorage, a large port town off the western coast largely untouched by the Scourge, and boasting a population of over 60,000.
The spread of these portals to major towns would increase trade, reduce travel, and increase the spread of Varrus''s Mana Stones so that fewer people would devolve into the Wretched state.
Telonicus had constructed two more Rune Stones, as it took him roughly an entire week to produce one. One had been sent to Sunsail Anchorage, and another placed on the west coast. The Chief Engineer had a plan to create a network of Rune Stones, creating a web from the outside in. Attuned to Elven-kind, they would dampen the magic of any other race within Quel''Thalas, as well as protect the Highborn from scrying and other foreign means of magical detection.
Lor''Themar and the Royal Rangers were out in the field, cleaning up any Undead via ambush tactics, and generally cleaning up the smaller messes that would be a waste of the Sunfury''s time.
Kael¡¯Thas meanwhile had completely wiped out a Murloc encampment off the west coast, and was currently engaging a forest of corrupted treants at Fairbreeze Village. A sizable crossroads village in between Sunsail Anchorage, and the Ghostlands, it served as a valuable farming community, and was a priority for the young King to secure.
Lastly, Koren, Thaladred, and Liadran were still holding out against the Scourge at Tranquillien. Located dead center within the Ghostlands province, this fortified village served as a means to harass the surrounding Undead. Their efforts severely distracted the Scourge, allowing the rest of Quel''Thalas some breathing room. It was thanks to them that Kael could bloody his army on lesser threats, and that Varrus could sniff out the traitors lurking about.
However, from the report that Faedra had handed him, Varrus learned that the Darkfallen were due to launch an attack sometime within the next week or week after.
The former Crown Prince, Tenris was growing ever impatient, and a schism was forming between him and his mother, Queen Lana''thel.
Tenris was eager to go on the offense, and Lana''thel seemed to be gathering resources for some hidden plot.
This suggested to Varrus that if he stoked tempers, he could goad Tenris to attack Tranquillien before Lana''thel was ready.
Perhaps showing off the newly crowned King Kael¡¯Thas would do the trick? Varrus thought sinisterly to himself.
As for Varrus''s own accomplishments, he had completely removed the taint of plague from Silvermoon, and had moved on to the rest of Eversong. Already, a quarter of the province had been power washed by his Infinite Light spell. For every acre he cleaned, he was rewarded in gold coins. His already large family coffers were beginning to swell to a bursting point, and Varrus had thousands of gold coins lying about in his inventory if the situation was ever needed.
Varrus intended to use that gold for trade, but also to buy the Blackfuse Mercenary company. They were a powerful group of Goblins that in the Warlords of Draenor expansion, transformed Orgrimmar into a proper dungeon raid. He was very keen on securing their services.
But gold and a cleansed land were not Varrus''s only gains. He had maxed out his Conjuration skill over the last two weeks, and discovered that like the limit of Elemental summons, he could have a Dead Thrall for every base 200 mana.
The vanilla Skyrim spell text read as such: Reanimate a dead body permanently to fight for you. Only works on people.
Fortunately, he had enough base mana to raise the three Hero tier units at any time. For now, he opted to raise Starbottle, and Dawnbringer, whilst ignoring Rommath. He wouldn''t put it past the former Grand Magister to discover a loophole in the summons, or find a way to break his binds. Varrus would only ever bring him out if he needed to consult him for information, or entered an extremely desperate fight.
As for Starbottle, she was put to research immediately on studying Elven fertility. Dawnbringer on the other hand, had been tutoring Syra and other members of his House Guard in the Light. The portly priest was masked and wearing heavy amounts of perfume at all times, so as not to entirely give away his Undead nature. His hefty paunch was a dead giveaway, as fat Elves were a rarity, but even so, this thin veneer of deniability was good enough, since the only people aware of his presence were sworn to Varrus and Syra.
All the while, Varrus had been producing Master tier Mana Stones every night, and resetting the Alteration tree to grind those levels. Leveling up, was becoming a higher, and higher threshold.
When he had finished battling at the beach 3-4 weeks ago, he was level 128. He was now level 193.
Pumping everything into mana, his new stats looked like:
His new base stats were:
Mana: 600 -> 1,250
Health: 378 (initially 420, but reduced -10%)
Stamina: 600
With stats like these, Varrus could maintain 6 bound summons at once.
With the mix of Skyrim and Warcraft, summons no longer ran on a timer, and like the ¡®real world¡¯ lasted until Varrus dismissed them, they died, or if Varrus died.
Meaning he could summon a squad of ethereal battlemages or other beings to back him up at any time. Each one benefitting from his Illusion buffs.
The other Master tier Conjuration spell Varrus was interested in, was Banish Living.
Banish Living: Banish a living creature to Oblivion. Items (except quest items) are lost forever.
Strictly speaking, this was an ultimate ¡®fuck you¡¯ spell to cockroach villains. If Varrus came across another foe that endlessly regenerated, then this would be his answer to them.
However, despite these gains, Varrus had made little progress in the Mana Stone spells.
Studying magic was hard, who knew?
Even with the Intelligence bonus of his enchanted equipment enhancing his learning capabilities, he had learnt only how to absorb attributed mana with his Mana Stones. Which wasn''t terrible, all things considered.
Sure, he couldn''t make a forest, or conjure up a thousand Elementals from that energy like Vandercross. But it served as an effective shield.
Furthermore, with the ability to absorb all of the different magics, from Arcane, Light, to Void and Elemental. It got Varrus thinking.
His quest to restore the Sunwell merely required him to supply it with mana. It never specified which type of mana.
If Varrus went about it like he had initially planned, then the Sunwell would once again become a font of pure Arcane.
But canonically, the Sunwell would be restored in 5-7 years with the help of a Naaru. Transforming it into a mix of Arcane and Light.
With this knowledge, Varrus knew that the Sunwell was susceptible to being restored by alternate energies.
It also just so happened that the Highborn were like Evee from Pokemon, capable of adapting to any type.
Whilst Varrus didn''t plan on introducing the pure cococanium that was Fel to the mix, or the purple goo that was Void. That didn''t mean he had to limit himself to pure Arcane.
If he could restore the Sunwell with Arcane as the base, say 50% of the energy to bind everything with Order magic, then he could introduce Light, Wind, Earth, Fire, Water, and Life energy as well.
It was just a thought for now, and one he would consult Telonicus and Rommath on to run some diagnostics on. But if it proved viable, then Varrus saw no reason why he shouldn''t make his people a race of, essentially Avatar''s from the Last Airbender series.
If his dream of creating a mageotech empire was to become a reality, then the more powerful they were, all the better.
But besides his research, and cleansing of Quel''Thalas, Varrus had been hard at work crafting his bricks. He was all but out of supplies now, two weeks later, and desperately needed to find a new resource point.
If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.
Not only clay for the bricks, but he also needed rare earth minerals for enchantments, and ore to make more gear.
If he was going to bait an all out attack on Tranquillien, then Varrus wanted to reinforce Liadran''s army with top quality weapons and armor.
That series of events lead to the present, where he and Syra were about to search for the Kobold enclave.
Syra walked towards Varrus with a large rug under one arm, and unceremoniously tossed it onto the ground. She then stepped atop it, and raised an eyebrow at him as if to say ¡®are you coming or not?¡¯
Varrus felt some trepidation when he saw the thing, and licked his lips.
On top of all the other things Varrus had been doing, he had also been learning how to control a flying carpet. The exquisitely colored and geometrical shapes on the rug did little to soothe Varrus as he recalled the many, many falls he had taken during his practice.
Thankfully, he had the Drop Zone spell, negating all fall damage, but still. Falling from the sky was unpleasant to say the least.
¡®Damnit, why can''t we teleport!?¡¯ Varrus bitterly thought to himself as he already knew the answer. Teleportation required one to be either familiar with the location, have a visual on where you were going, or have an anchor on the other side to go towards. Only the most skilled, or insane mages would conduct a long distance teleportation without any of these.
Taking a deep breath, Varrus stepped upon the carpet, and commanded it to rise.
His knees were a little shaky, as the thought of the factoid that carpet being less than half an inch thick spread through his mind like a wildfire.
Before he could panic, he felt Syra holding on to his waist from behind, and glanced over his shoulder to see a reassuring smile.
Taking a deep breath, Varrus stabilized the wobbly ride, and took off.
Heading towards the caves on the east coast that Koren had mentioned, and marked on his map, it took around 2 hours of non-stop flight before he found his destination.
Feeling the cool sea breeze on his face, and the sound of waves knocking upon the cliffside, Varrus entered a cavern, and placed a comically large candlestick atop a helmet on his head.
¡°Pfft.¡± Syra pointed and laughed at Varrus.
Varrus replied with a grin of schadenfreude, as he slapped a helmet with a giant candlestick upon her pretty brow.
Syra''s laughter suddenly cut, and Varrus pulled her in for a hug, his bellowing laughter echoed through the dim caverns.
As the Kobolds followed whoever wore the largest candlestick to be their leader, regardless of race or appearance, Varrus wore one over his head so that he could trick them into joining his faction.
Casting the spell Candlelight, an orb of white light spawned above Varrus''s shoulder. He then traversed deeper into the cavern, and began to search for the Kobold''s in earnest.
The walls were wide, and the ceiling high. Thinking logically, Varrus would think that most passageways would be Kobold height, but Warcraft was a fantasy world. Everything was bigger than on Earth to make things impossibly grand. This was a pleasant surprise, as Varrus had been against stooping, or crawling to meet with the Kobolds.
Moving forward, he was beginning to see signs of habitation. Such clues included claw marks on the side of walls, as well as many dusty imprints on the ground. The Kobold''s were not the brightest of races, but they knew how to construct basic tools such as picks, wore clothing, and even boots.
Following these tracks, Varrus came to a crossroads. His keen ears picked up the sound of a pick striking at stone, as well as some soft chattering.
Fortunately, most Kobolds spoke Common, the language of Humans, or to Varrus, it was a language indistinguishable from English. Meaning he could converse with the Kobolds without any kind of translation spell or charm.
Making his way towards the noise, it didn''t take long for Varrus to spot some light shining from a lantern.
Coming across a group of no more than 8 Kobold''s eating some food during a lunch break, the two groups stared at one another in silence.
The Kobold''s had large black eyes similar to a deer, and had long whisker filled shouts. They were like short, fur-less pink skinned rats, and typically stood with a hunched back.
Atop each of their heads rested a candle varying in size front 3-7 inches long.
Personally, they weirded Varrus out just looking at them. But he needed them for their mining expertise, and wouldn¡¯t allow their appearance to throw him off.
¡°Hello, we are Varrus and Syra. We wish to speak with your leader.¡± Varrus spoke, at the same time, he had to support the over 2ft long candle resting on his head with a hand, to make sure it didn''t fall over.
¡°Pff.¡±
Upon hearing Syra withhold another chuckle, Varrus shot her a glare, then turned back to the Kobold''s with a smile.
The Kobold with the largest candlestick stepped forward, and kneeled on the ground, it was mimicked by the other 7 Kobold''s.
¡°Oh great one, our priest prophesied that a great bearer of the wax would arrive for our salvation! Please, follow me, and I will gladly guide your Heroness to the chieftain!¡± The Kobold rose from his kneeling position, and bowed before leading the way.
The various Kobold''s chittered amongst one another, and flicked their tails in a way that Varrus interpreted as happiness.
¡°All is as it should be. If only the people at home treated us with such respect.¡± Syra snorted.
¡°Just wait until I restore the Sunwell.¡± Varrus softly remarked.
¡°They respond better to threats of violence, then gifts of prosperity. How else could Quel''Thalas be ruled by a monarchy, and a council of 7?¡± Syra tsked.
Varrus nodded along with Syra''s assessment. While he wanted to be loved, and do right by Elven-Kind, he always had to watch his back around them. One betrayal already cost Quel''Thalas everything, Varrus wouldn''t suffer another.
Hopefully, the open slaughter of so many Elites at the gala would drive home to their scheming minds that he was not to be fucked with.
Patting Syra on the shoulder, Varrus grinned knowing he had Silvermoon''s best killer at his side. She may be mad, but she was his mad.
Syra responded by poking Varrus in the side.
While they were having fun with one another, Varrus never let down his guard, or his assessment of their surroundings.
They had gone down several corridors for over 15 minutes, before they entered a simply massive cavern.
It was a giant space in the shape of a dome. All sorts of metal was being worked upon, and industry was alive. Along the walls were endless stairs leading up, as well as down. Carved into the walls were also dens, and barrows where Varrus could spot dozens of workers, and families simply living life.
Street hawkers sold food, and craftsmen offered their wares. Upon a surface level inspection, the Kobold''s were not too dissimilar from the average Human settlement.
Varrus estimated that there were a few tens of thousands of Kobold¡¯s in this massive domed city. He could only guess as to their true population, or if this was where the majority resided.
What really set them apart was their obsession with candles. The entire dome was absolutely littered with them! There were so many, it put any church to shame.
At the center of the dome was a massive candle standing tall, like the Washington monument.
Kobolds stood in a line, and would offer wax to the giant candle, and then kneel in prayer. Varrus saw the wick flicker every time this occurred, and a small sliver of mana would transfer from the great candle, into the candle resting atop the praying Kobold''s head.
As Varrus and Syra made their way through the crowd, many would stop what they were doing, and point, or mutter amongst themselves. Yet Varrus so no fear, or malice, quite the opposite really. Instead, there was hope.
Varrus was confused about this, but he recalled what Faedra had told him about the Kobold''s facing an issue.
In fact, he saw a Kobold being supported by two others, and offering wax to the great candle. When it did, the great candle tried to transfer some energy, but only a trickle of Light infused mana entered the Kobold''s candlestick after its prayer.
Slumping down, the Kobold''s movements were lethargic, and the stick atop its head wilting. Its flame went out, and the Kobold seemed to lose the will to live as it sat on the ground, staring blankly at the ceiling in loss.
The two Kobold''s who had been supporting their compatriot, dropped him like he had the plague, and scurried away. A deathly silence took hold of any who witnessed this, and all stepped away, socially distancing themselves from the unfortunate Kobold, making the victim a pariah.
Having witnessed this, Varrus knew that the Kobold wasn''t actually dead, thanks to a quick application of Detect Life. But it was not looking good. Something was causing this disconnect between the great candle and the devotees, and Varrus bet that he was going to have to resolve it.
With his Mana Sight, he could see that the Kobold on the ground was infected with a foreign energy.
Deciding to take a crack at curing him, he Dispel Magic, and followed that with a Restoration spell.
The surrounding Kobolds muttered amongst each other, yet after the light from Varrus''s spells cleared, the depressed Kobold had remained unmoving. Many of the once hopeful Kobolds began to mutter expletives.
Varrus ignored the peanut gallery, and upon inspection, saw that the malaise had left the Kobold, yet without his candlestick lit, he was still depressed on the ground.
Taking some spare wax from his inventory, Varrus supported the Kobold like his friends had done, and gestured for him to make an offering.
This time, his candlestick relit, and the crowd began to clamor up at Varrus''s side in excitement, like some teenage girls asking for a selfie with a Korean boy band.
Syra drew her sword at the sudden surge of movement, yet was held back by Varrus at the last second before she did anything drastic.
The priest at the head of the great candle stepped forward, and bowed at Varrus and Syra.
¡°I have been waiting for you, Heroes. Please, come with me. The chieftain will want to see you.¡±
¡°We are honored, priest. Please, take the lead.¡± Varrus nodded, and signaled for Syra to sheath her sword.
He took a step forward to follow the priest, when he felt a clammy hand grip the hem of his robe.
¡°Thank you, your waxiness, my name is Karwl Clanless, and I pledge myself to your House!¡± The Kobold bowed on the floor in reverence.
Varrus considered saying no, but then again, he could use a loyal follower. He had seen how the other Kobold''s treated Karwl, and knew that this act of loyalty was likely true. Besides, he could trust a promise from a Kobold he just met more than that of an Elf.
¡°Welcome to House Vandercross, Krawl. I accept your oath of loyalty.¡± Varrus smiled, and helped the Kobold up.
¡°I will follow you until I die, or you cast me out, master.¡± Krawl said, and deeply bowed once more before following behind Varrus and Syra.
Varrus nodded in reply, then walked after the priest.
Once he took care of this problem ailing the Kobolds, he would officially induct the first race into his new empire. How exciting!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
AN: Read up to chapter 100 at: karpqq pa t e on
Chapter 76
The priest leading Varrus wore a white cowl, and a backpack festooned with candlesticks. The flame atop his head burned brighter than most, and a sizable amount of mana permeated his body.
Based solely on his internal mana, Varrus would rate this leader of religion to be somewhere around Helios''s level in terms of internal energy.
Of course, judging someone''s aptitude based solely on mana was foolish, as that hardly spoke to their skill with a blade, or the spells they knew, but it was an easy identifier that Varrus had come to trust.
Everything in this world ran on mana. Even warriors could unconsciously tap into it to run faster, jump higher, and swing their weapons harder. How else could the likes of Grom Hellscream-a vaunted Hero of the Orcs-slay not one, but two demi-gods?
From what Varrus could see of the general population of the Kobolds, the vast majority of them were Common, or even a tier below what he had registered as ¡®Common¡¯ when compared to the average Blood Elf.
But that made sense. A weakling amongst Dragons would still be a terror to a peasant village of Humans. Kobolds, biologically, were simply on a tier or two below Elves on the food chain.
Most species on Azeroth were. It was no wonder the Elves had become so smug, when each and every one of them took to magic like a duck to water. For the Highborn, learning how to throw a fireball was about as difficult as a Human child learning how to crawl.
They were not the same.
However, that was not to say that the Kobolds couldn''t make up for their shortcomings with technology.
Throughout the cavern city, a rail network of mine carts was constantly being pulled upon by giant moles-varying in size from that of a mule, to the largest being that of an elephant- these animals seemed to be the labor animals of this civilization.
Ore, people, candles, and goods of every kind were constantly shuffled throughout the city, and into hundreds of dark caves beyond the scope of the dome. Tradesmen accepted copper coins for small amounts, whilst silver seemed to be the currency of choice when moving larger goods.
Already, Varrus had spotted a few minerals required for enchantments being moved by the cartfull, as well as literal tons of moonstone, the key ingredient for glass armor.
Not only that, but within these carts were large round mines looking something like a naval mine, as well as sticks of dynamite.
As for weaponry, some soldiers wore chainmail coats, and wielded spears, and some Kobold¡¯s wielded antiquated looking blunderbusses. However, armed soldiers were rare, and almost every Kobold had a pickaxe on hand, doubling as a weapon. There were also two castes of magic wielders that Varrus could identify based upon the color of their robes. The green/gold robed Kobolds were geomancers, and the purple/red robed Kobolds were pyromancers.
Thankfully for Varrus, WoW was a very color coordinated universe, and like in Pokemon, you could guess someone''s power set or what type of fighter they were by the type, and color of their gear about 90% of the time.
If someone wore plate armor, there was a 90% chance they weren''t going to cast magic. It was a silly premise, but that''s just how the world worked.
Whilst Varrus was analyzing his surroundings, and taking in this alien, yet familiar culture, they had arrived at what could be described as a fortress.
The unique building was a stone effigy of a giant Kobold''s head, carved into the cave wall, like the heads of US Presidents carved into Mt. Rushmore.
The priest muttered some words, and the candle atop his head flickered.
A moment later, the candle atop the stone head seemed to receive some message, and flickered in unison with the priest. A moment later, the jaws of the stone Kobold opened up slowly. The clanking sound of numerous gears turning met Varrus''s ears as the jaws finally snapped wide open with a click.
An iron gate served as the entrance to the ¡®throat¡¯ of the monument, and was guarded by two Kobolds about as tall as Varrus. They were practical giants by Kobold standards.
The priest nonchalantly walked past them, and Varrus followed suit.
However, when Karwl was about to follow, he was kicked in the stomach, and forced to tumble over.
Karwl:
¡°Big candles only. Beat it.¡± The guard said in disinterest.
Karwl bowed, and was about to step back, however, Varrus shot a pair of green orbs at the two Elites. The Paralyze spell locked them in place, preventing the guards from moving a muscle.
¡°Come along Karwl. You belong with House Vandercross.¡± Varrus said, and gestured for the priest to continue.
¡°He''s right, I shouldn''t.¡± Karwl bowed in repentance, and looked left and right skittishly.
¡°Need I dismiss you so soon into your service?¡± Varrus questioned, then turned around to enter the keep.
¡°Nmm, Karwl says he will follow you to the dark depths of the earth!¡± Karwl clenched his fists, and ran to catch up.
Varrus smirked to himself as he heard the soft patter of his latest minion follow a step behind.
If Karwl was willing to break societal norms and taboos to prove his loyalty, then Varrus could only praise him for his performance.
Yes, it was somewhat foolish, given that he was about to meet with the leader of these people. To bring along someone who clearly broke the cultural rules would not paint Varrus in a positive light.
But he had the biggest candle atop his head, and the priest had prophesied that some Heroes would come to resolve their issue.
Bringing Karwl along in this situation would mean testing the chieftains''s bottom line, and would reveal to Varrus if he would make for a proper vassal. Because if he wasn''t, well then, Varrus would simply install someone who was.
Marching past hall after hall of glittering shiny objects-some valuable enchanting materials, others useless baubles-the priest finally led them to the last room at the end of the corridor.
Within was a heavyset, older Kobold sitting atop a throne of wax candles. He wore a loincloth, and little else, exposing a pink round belly. His sausage-like fingers had overgrown, grimy fingernails, and he wielded a shovel coated with Dwarven inscriptions. Atop his head was a lantern-like hat, within which burned an everlasting flame.
Surrounding this overweight Kobold were a harem of female Kobolds dressed in torn lace obviously scavenged from a Highborn trash heap, and were busy grooming the chieftain''s whiskers, and picking his ears clean of wax.
Varrus wanted to gag at the incredible smell wafting off of this beast of a being, and wished he could burn the memory of a Kobold in lipstick from his mind.
¡°Presenting Waxlord Longcandle, master of the domed city, Duhn''Dah''Row!¡± The priest bowed, then stood to the side.
Longcandle examined Syra and Varrus for a moment, then scoffed.
¡°These are the Heroes from the land of the Wickless Candle? They are no more than the oppressors who keep us to our cave. Priest, what have you brought into my home?¡± Longcandle lifted his shovel, and threateningly pointed it at the priest in anger. His voice reminded Varrus of a crotchety old man yelling at some kids to get off their lawn.
¡°The Heroes have healed one of our own. This youth was afflicted with darkness, he now stands hail and firm.¡± The priest gestured towards Karwl.
Varrus raised an eyebrow, glancing at Karwl''s white beard, he never would have guessed that he was young for a Kobold. He wondered if they suffered from a shorter lifespan, like the rats they were based upon.
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
¡°And you brought him here? What if the short candle was still diseased?!¡± Longcandle leaned back into his waxy seat in fear.
¡°Karwll is not diseased! I am a Vandercross now, show respect, I has a bigger candlestick than you, that means I is more smarter!¡± Karwl angrily shouted at Longcandle, then jumped him.
Karwl started to claw, and bite at the leader of the Kobolds in a frenzy.
¡°Well that escalated quickly.¡± Varrus sighed to himself.
It seemed bloody insurrection was the name of the game now.
¡°Guards, guards! Toss these imposters into the pits.¡± Longcandle shook his shovel, the jowls of his neck fat shook as he spat his command.
However, upon Longcandle''s order, the squadron of guards waiting outside the door did little more than stand back, and watch as their leader was mauled.
¡°I am the Waxlord, fight for your leader!¡± Longcandle garbled out.
¡°But the prophesied Hero has a bigger candle then yous.¡± One of the tall guards said.
¡°Right, right, the priest said something like this would happen.¡± Another nodded his head like it was a fact.
¡°Traitors!¡± Longcandle snarled, and smacked Karwl away with his shovel.
Rising from his wax throne, Longcandle lifted his weapon threateningly at Varrus, only to catch Syra''s sword to the throat.
Face locked in an expression of surprise, Longcandle''s head tumbled forward and down the waxen steps leading up to his throne, his corpse slipped down the waxy steps leading up to the seat, and came to rest at the guards¡¯ feet.
¡°Hail Waxlord Vandercross. May his waxiness light the candle to our future.¡± The priest said with ease.
¡°Hail Waxlord Vandercross, hail!¡¯ The guards were quick to follow the priest''s lead.
Varrus glanced down at the white cowled practitioner of the Light, and was met with a toothy grin.
¡°Your throne, sire.¡± The priest gestured towards the mountain of wax.
Varrus felt his eyelid twitch, as he saw the seat was stained yellow, and had Longcandle''s ass cheeks imprinted on them like some sort of memory foam mattress.
¡°...¡±
¡°I always wanted to see my man be King, I''ll sit in your lap~¡± Syra whispered in his ear.
Varrus rolled his eyes, and mustered up the courage necessary to sit on that disgusting pile of wax called a throne.
The wax seat was spongy, yet firm¡and three sizes too small for Varrus. He felt like he was sitting in a swing meant for kids. With Syra''s weight pressing on him, he was pressed even deeper into this malleable throne, however, the grinding of her thighs upon the tip of his dick was admittedly, a little exciting.
¡°Alright priest, what is your game?¡± Varrus said with a little hostility, letting him know that Varrus knew he was being used, and did not appreciate it.
¡°Guards. Leave us.¡± The priest waved his hand in command.
Once the guards left the chamber, the priest pulled out a pipe, and lit it with the candle atop his head.
¡°Would my Lord or Lady care for a smoke?¡± The priest offered.
Varrus merely stared him down.
¡°The prophecy, Waxlord, is as they say, bat guano.¡± The priest took a sharp inhalation, then smoothly exhaled.
¡°It cannot be!¡± Karwl brought himself up from the ground, and said teary eyed, gripping the priest by the hem of his robe.
Varrus felt a little sympathy for the little guy as his bubble of innocence was forcefully popped. But that still didn''t give him what he wanted.
¡°Explain.¡± Varrus tersely commanded.
¡°We of the Longcandle tribe have dug too deep. Unleashed a horror upon ourselves that we have no means to combat. In my desperation, I reached out to a foreign source that the predecessors before me had once followed. I do not know her name, but she is referred to in the ancient texts as the Mistress. She promised me aid in exchange for service¡I took her up on her offer.¡± The priest closed his eyes as he took another inhale.
Varrus felt Syra freeze at the mention of a Mistress, to which he grasped her hand in support.
This turn of events certainly expedited Varrus''s goal. It would seem that Faedra was serious about helping their family succeed. However, it left a sour taste in his mouth knowing that he owed that woman a favor.
¡°Very well, I shall accept that story as truth, along with your loyalty. Now. What is it that ails your people?¡± Varrus demanded, eager to get himself out of this cramped, waxy seat.
¡°Some time ago, we found a vein of black metal. The great candle demanded we dismantle it, for it spewed darkness into the cavern, and was an abomination. Complying with the flame atop the wick, we went to work¡It was an ore harder than our picks, and only by the constant efforts of our geomancers could we pull it apart. It was during the dig, that we uncovered The Door.¡± The priest shuddered, and the light on all the candles flickered as he finished his sentence.
A cool draft entered the room, and an unintelligible whisper seemed to linger in Varrus''s ear.
Feeling the skin prick at the nape of his neck, Varrus shifted uncomfortably as it felt like he was a boy again listening to a ghost story for the first time.
Syra frowned, and released some Light from her body, pushing away that odd sensation.
Varrus squeezed her side, feeling her warmth, and holding her close for comfort.
¡°Please continue, priest.¡± Varrus intoned with solemnity.
This seemed like an incredibly serious situation. If the mere mention of something could create such a visceral reaction, then there was no telling what kind of Void related entity awaited them.
¡°That abomination whispered to us in riddles, poisoned our minds with truths unseen. We became infected with the darkness. We tried to destroy it with magic, explosives, faith. None of it worked. Its poison seeped into the lower levels, withering many, and transforming others. A cult has formed around its worship. Please, Waxlord, I beg of you, destroy it.¡± The priest told his tale in a state of panicked fear. His hands were trembling as he attempted to place his pipe back into his mouth, but missed several times.
¡°Is it true, Karwl, is this what snuffed your flame?¡± Varrus questioned, wanting to verify that the priest wasn''t solely caught up in his own fear.
Karwl quivered as he seemed to recall a series of tragic events, his breath sped up, and his eyes dilated.
Tossing a Calm spell at the rodent-man, Varrus repeated the question.
¡°I am sorry Waxlord, and yes, it is true. Karwl was tasked with laying the explosives. Not only did it have no effect, but when we tried to create a cave in, some force halted the boulders, and recreated the hallway leading to it. It is¡terrifying.¡± Karwl shuddered as he recalled his experience.
¡°Now, that area is off limits, and is infested with a cult. Their numbers are slim, but I fear they will grow to encompass all of the dome if the root cause is not solved.¡± The priest said in worry, and got down on one knee to look at Varrus pleadingly.
¡°Yes, Waxlord, I-I volunteer to lead you to, to it! I am loyal to House Vandercross!¡± Karwl bit out between chattering teeth.
Varrus smiled, and reluctantly patted the top of the tiny Kobold''s white furred head.
¡°Thank you Karwl, your loyalty is commendable. Here, a gift.¡± Varrus nodded, then retrieved a mithril dagger, and an amulet.
The dagger was like a sword in the tiny creature''s grasp, and would prove to be a good weapon for one his size. The amulet was enchanted with a Common Soul Gem. Its properties were the standard protection shield, and the Spirit stat. During his many battles, Varrus had discovered that Spirit helped not only regenerate one''s mana, but also protected against mind altering effects.
In fact, the amulet he had had Rho''dan discreetly gift to Kael¡¯Thas had such enchantments placed upon it, what with his emo friend''s penchant for moodiness.
¡°Thank you, Waxlord. These trinkets shall be passed on to my children, and their children''s children, so that they may serve House Vandercross in perpetuity.¡± Karwl laid himself low in the dirt, and bowed like an ancient Chinese peasant.
Varrus was moved by this, and forcefully raised the Kobold up with telekinesis.
¡°Are you ready, my love?¡± Varrus said to Syra.
¡°Your enemies are my enemies, my Sun.¡± Syra grinned, and gestured pointedly towards the corpse of the former chieftain pointedly.
Varrus rose from the waxy throne, carrying Syra princess style.
¡°Come priest, and assemble what passes for an army in these parts.¡± Varrus confidently strode forward, leaving the throne room behind.
¡°But my Lord, there is no such army.¡± The priest hurriedly followed behind.
¡°No? Then the halls of Duhn''Dah''Row shall play witness to their Waxlord''s might!¡± Varrus''s voice magically boomed across the domed city.
The great candle flickered with Varrus''s declaration, and he felt a wisp of flame travel from it, to atop his head.
[Great Candle''s Blessing: All Light magic and Stamina increased by 5%]
A crowd had gathered to see what the commotion was about, and the priest stepped forward to address them.
¡°The great candle has spoken! To war!¡± The priest rattled his staff, and shouted, causing the Kobold''s to erupt in a cheer, followed by a frenzy of activity.
¡°No such army, hmm?¡± Varrus questioned.
¡°Aha, Waxlord, you must understand. Motivating a Kobold to fight is like pulling a rotten tooth. You know it must happen, but sometimes you ignore the problem until it is too late.¡± The priest sheepishly shrugged his shoulders.
Meanwhile, Karwl was busily showing off his new weapon to the surrounding Kobold''s, and stabbing it fiercely in the air.
Syra squeezed Varrus''s hand, and smiled at him.
Varrus nodded back.
The Kobolds had dug too deep, and uncovered that which must remain hidden.
¡®Hopefully it isn''t something like a Balrog.¡¯ Varrus chuckled to himself as he observed the industry of war slowly awaken within the Kobolds.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter 77
Before long, an ad hoc force of around 2,000~ Kobolds had answered the call to arms.
They largely divided themselves into 4 separate groups based upon the value of their equipment.
Most of them wore rusted copper chainmail, a pair of boots, and hard hat, leather gloves, and wielded pickaxes as their primary weapons.
In effect, the bulk of the army, perhaps 1,700 of them, were Common tier cannon fodder. The flimsy mesh on the chainmail looked ready to snap at a moment''s notice, and their arms were completely exposed. Furthermore, with their short stature, a pick didn''t exactly give much reach compared to a spear, or even a sword.
The remaining 300 or so comprised the Elites, or at least the more well off. These were Kobolds equipped with muskets, and actual weapons such as swords, shields, and spears. Some were even mounted upon the giant moles, like some bastardized version of a knight. Dressed in iron, and generally standing a head taller than the average Kobold, Varrus recognized them as the private guard of the previous chieftain.
Additionally, about a dozen pyromancers and geomancers stood apart from the Elites, and each was surrounded by a cadre of followers equipped with weakly enchanted gear.
Lastly, around 100 devotees to the Light followed behind the priest. Their garb was practically useless, as they were covered in shiny materials that reflected light, and carried dozens upon dozens of candles and lanterns. They practically glowed in the dark, they were so devout. Due to their faith, they chose to wield no weapons. However the mana coming off those candles wasn''t so simple. By Varrus''s estimation, this group of ragged looking beggars were probably the strongest faction of all those assembled.
However, tensions were beginning to shape up between the two factions of Arcane magic casters, and they were snarling at one another.
While this was ongoing, the peasant army was getting jittery, looking like they might scatter to the wind at any moment. Whilst the Elites busily engorged themselves on as much food as possible, ignoring everything.
Varrus tiredly rubbed the bridge of his nose. Coalition governments and empires were a grand dream, but no matter the race or creed, people would always find something to hate one another over.
¡°Perhaps we should move out, lest the pyrocaste war with the earthencaste.¡± The priest suggested.
Varrus ignored the priest, then began to toss out Calm spells like they were candy on Halloween.
When everyone had settled down, and the Kobolds were totally under the sway of his Illusion skill tree, and began to silently radiate the perk Imposing Presence.
All the Kobold''s in the army who looked at him would either lower their heads in fear/respect, or even bow.
For such a weak willed people, Varrus''s double whammy of magic, and the cultural significance of wearing the biggest candle made him appear like a Hero of myth and legend in their eyes.
¡°Gather to me the minerals and ore that you can spare.¡± Varrus commanded, then crossed his arms, and closed his eyes as he waited for the Kobolds to complete his order.
After a few hours of constant scurrying, they had finished their task, supplying Varrus with a veritable mountain of gems, ore, and other craftable materials.
Cracking his knuckles, Varrus grinned to himself at the free exp. Resetting his Smithing skill, Varrus conjured up a smelter, and got to work.
Some time had passed, and once Varrus was finished, he outfitted the Kobolds with glass armor, and weapons. Some of the equipment was even enchanted, thanks to the minerals they had provided.
Moonstone was in bountiful supply from this dig site, it would seem, and would make for an excellent supply center in the future.
Varrus grinned at his handiwork. The Kobolds were running around, and squealing at one another as they adjusted to their new plate armor, and weapons.
Thankfully, glass armor was extremely light, and could be worn by even the Kobold''s despite their small bodies.
Equipping them with spears, and short swords, Varrus was satisfied that they wouldn''t fall dead from something as simple as a thrown rock anymore.
Leaking out his mana in a small wave, and pulling upon Imposing Presence once more, Varrus gathered their attention.
¡°Clan Longcandle, as your Waxlord, I, Varrus Vandercross, shall lead you to smite this darkness that plagues Duhn¡¯Dah''Row!¡± Varrus shouted, his voice booming across the cavern.
[Speech +1]
He then tossed out the Courage spell into the crowd, and the army needed no further encouragement. They began to pour into the tunnels, and lead Varrus towards the source of their malaise.
¡°Coming, priest?¡± Varrus said over his shoulder, without looking back.
¡°Hah, you are truly what the Mistress described, and more. Thank you, Heroes.¡± The priest bowed to Varrus and Syra, then got in line.
¡°Karwl will help too!¡± The young Kobold ran ahead to join the rest of the army.
¡°They''re a little disgusting to look at, but kind of adorable in a way. But most importantly, they are your servants.¡± Syra spoke in Thalassian, and teased Varrus with a peck on the cheek.
Varrus pulled her into for a side hug, and clunked his forehead against hers.
¡°Be prepared for an encounter with the Void. Whatever it is that we''re about to face, the true threat will be more serious than some cultist Kobolds gone mad.¡± Varrus warned.
Whatever it was that could evoke a brief feeling of dread in him, had Varrus feeling on edge. Furthermore, he was in a cave network. It was all too easy to get lost, or get caved in. This limited his Master tier spells, and possibly even his Expert level spells. Because anyway he killed himself by collapsing the ceiling, then he would have earned that Darwin Award.
Plus, his mobility was severely limited. There would be few places to Blink to, so the only way to fight in the mines was to be up close and brutal.
Gripping the handle to his sword, Varrus mentally prepared himself for the possibility of melee combat.
As they moved deeper into the cavern, the front line made contact with the enemy.
Before he saw it, he heard it. Just around the bend at a choke point, the sound of screams and gasps of death entered his ears.
As he was taller than virtually everyone present, Varrus got a good look of what they were facing.
Kobold¡¯s in various states of mutation were rapidly swinging enlarged claws, and purple tentacles as the Longcandle tribesmen.
Some of the mutant Kobolds looked to be more squid than rat, and had mismatched body parts. One leg was larger than the other, or some even had multiple eyes.
On average, they were larger than the Longcandle warriors, and fought with ferocity.
The line of plate armored Longcandles thrust blindly forward with their spears, skewering a few of their opponents, but mostly, they hit empty air, showcasing their lack of training. Fortunately their armor was decent enough, and few of them died in the initial onslaught.
Varrus couldn''t be mad at their performance, but he was disappointed. This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.
At the very least, the Elites actually knew how to coordinate with one another, and the magic casters took an enemy down every minute.
Furthermore, thanks to all of the group buffs that were under Varrus''s Illusion skill tree, all of the Longcandles were hitting much harder than they would on any other day.
Unfocused spears that should glance off this alien purple flesh instead punctured forward, spilling black, ink-like blood. And Elites that had training could even slash a tentacled limb clean off the cultists.
The priest''s faction released soothing scents from their candles, calming the typical Kobold fear, and putting enemies to sleep mid combat. Furthermore, they conjured up Holy attributed flames, burning the voidspawn.
They were the only group to reject Varrus''s armor, and he saw why, as a group that could only be described as paladins coated themselves in wax, and took to the front line. This wax armor absorbed hits, gripped onto weapons/limbs, and prevented the wearer from receiving broken bones or concussions.
These Holy warriors would then light themselves on fire with candle flames, and melt bubbling wax upon their foes. This use of Light magic was an eye opening experience to Varrus to say the least.
In short, they were the bravest faction amongst the Kobolds, with the highest kill count, as well as the highest number of casualties.
Very slowly, it looked like they were winning.
Of course that was when the tentacles began to come up out of the ground.
The plants, underneath them, and hanging from the ceiling shivered, and revealed their corrupted forms, ambushing the army from both above, and below.
Wriggling purple tentacles the size of pythons began to strangle some, and spray others with a fine red mist. Whoever got sprayed seemed to have their eyes turn red, and they turned on their fellows in a berserkers rage.
Varrus countered the magic with more Calm spells, as well as the chain healing spell, Infinite Light.
The Restoration spell had the dual effect of being super effective against these children of the Void, and caused many of them to hiss in pain as they melted like a hose washing fresh paint off a driveway.
Syra meanwhile, was speed blitzing anything that came within a 10ft radius of Varrus. Her buster sword was slightly unwieldy in this cramped, close quarters combat environment, but her precision was such that it didn''t limit her much.
Before long, this section of the cave was cleared, and the press slowly began to slog forward.
Unfortunately, there were a few dozen casualties, but thanks to Varrus acting as support, more than 300 Kobold''s survived the initial encounter, and went from potentially dead/crippled to tip top shape.
On their journey to The Door, they were ambushed twice more in a similar manner, before they reached the chamber.
A long row of stairs led down to a blood red door embedded in the wall. Oversized human skulls-possibly the skulls of their Vrykul ancestors-were merged with long reaching tree roots. Old weathered greek-style columns held up the structure, leading Varrus to believe that it had been here long before the Kobolds ever made this cave system home.
The Longcandle tribe stopped at the threshold of the stairs leading down, and didn''t make so much as a peep as they stared downward in abject terror.
Pushing himself to the front of the army, Varrus saw a dozen robed cultists, seemingly with their wits about them, worshiping some purple Void infused candles.
A heady smoke filled the air, one conjuring up illusions of power, and promises unseen.
¡°Begone!¡¯ Varrus channeled his Speech skills, and shouted the scenes of grandeur away, breaking the sway it held over him, as well as the rest of the Longcandles.
In the pit by the door, Varrus noticed dozens of robed corpses, and thought that they must be sacrifices.
He was readying himself to blast them, when a steady beat, like a heartbeat began to emanate from The Door.
¡°What falls down but never breaks?¡± A whispering, masculine voice full of malice echoed in the chamber.
The robed figures muttered to one another, before one stepped forward, and kneeled down in supplication.
¡°A pickaxe, your holiness.¡± The Kobold answered with certainty.
¡°You are unworthy.¡±
A moment later, the Kobold was infused by Void energy, and mutated into a raving, tentacled lunatic.
Slobbering filthy brown saliva, the freak ran at Varrus, only to be met with more than a foot long of cold steel to the throat for his troubles.
Varrus frowned in consternation. His Mana Sight and Detect Life were churning at full tilt, yet he saw no life forms, nor how precisely the Void energy was created.
One moment, the cultist was fine, the next, he was turned into an abomination.
This was simply insane.
Without missing a beat, the door asked another question.
¡®I¡¯m soft, delicate and silky, but if you¡¯re wrapped in me, you¡¯ll scream¡ªif you can. What am I?¡±
This time, none of the cultists stepped forward. However, a Kobold in the army had bumped into another, and quietly muttered ¡®sorry.¡¯
¡°You are unworthy.¡±
The Longcandle Kobold couldn''t so much as blink, and he was mutated.
Like a piece of the dam collapsing, the Kobolds took this as a sign that Hell would descend upon them, and with the exceptions of Karwl and the priest''s faction, they all ran away in fear.
Syra put down the mutant, fast as always. But this door¡this door had Varrus''s heart rate rapidly increase, and he finally understood the vast fear that gripped the Longcandles.
He didn''t even try to stop them as they ran, there was no point. They would be of no help for whatever hid behind this mystical threat.
Varrus licked his lips, and decided to gamble on attacking the structure.
Putting his hands together, cast Infinite Light.
The beam of pure Light magic collided with The Door, creating a shrieking sound similar to a drill punching into metal.
Steam rose up from the structure, yet to Varrus¡¯s eyes, it seemed as if his spell wasn''t doing much at all.
During this attack, it spoke once more.
¡°They are dark and always on the run. Without the sun, there would be none. What are they?¡±
Making sure to keep silent, Varrus shot a warning look at Syra, to which she responded by rolling her eyes.
As if to say ¡®palease~ I''m not that stupid.¡¯
¡°Shadows.¡± A quiet voice spoke from Varrus''s side, startling him.
¡°...Welcome home, B???r???o???t???h???e???r??¡±
Upon finishing its statement, The Door swung open, revealing a hall bathed in crimson light, and full of murals.
As soon as it opened, the cultists ran forward, and entered as quickly as they could.
Varrus curiously looked down, and saw Karwl nervously scratching the back of his head.
¡°That was very brave of you, Karwl.¡± Varrus ultimately said with a praising tone of voice.
¡°Karwl has nothing to fear with the master by his side!¡± Karwl put on a show, and bravely beat his hand against his shiny green plated cuirass.
Varrus was going to reply, when the sound of horrid screams came from within the chamber.
It would seem that the cultists had met a gruesome end.
¡°Very good, you may stay guard outside with the priest, brave Karwl, and cover our flanks. My wife and I shall meet this threat plaguing your people head on.¡± Varrus said with confidence.
¡°Karwl believes in master!¡± The tiny Kobold waved his mithril sword in the air.
¡°Go forth, our prophesied champions!¡± The priest shouted in encouragement alongside his cadre.
Varrus turned his back to them, and nervously gulped to himself. This stupid door didn''t take a scratch from his Master tier Restoration spell¡
¡®Maybe I should try a Destruction spell?¡¯
Hurling a Bolide at it for good measure, he felt rubble fall down from the cavern, and didn''t even see a scorch mark.
¡®Fuck.¡¯ Varrus thought to himself in anger.
He tried to be cool and collected when it came to facing danger, but spelunking a dark narrow cave, and now entering a murder dungeon weren''t things normal people looked forward to. He wasn¡¯t claustrophobic, but knowing that the ceiling could collapse upon him at any time was a thought that constantly ticked away at the back of his head.
But if he didn''t take care of this, who was to say that the land wouldn''t become poisoned, and slowly spread out like a cancer? This Void bullshit was 100% more sinister than the Scourge. At least with the Undead, they were easy to spot. The Void corrupted the mind, amplifying certain emotions, and was capable of turning the closest of friends into the bitterest of enemies.
Varrus had to put down this threat, and hard. Otherwise, he could say goodbye to the free resources that these Kobold''s could supply, crushing his dreams of empire. Not to mention the easy levels when he grinded his Smithing skill.
¡°Whatever''s in there, we''ll kill it.¡± Syra flashed Varrus a smile that called for overwhelming violence.
Her bloodlust was going strong, and her confidence was like a raft for Varrus to desperately cling on.
Closing his eyes for a moment as he imagined the laughter of the children they would have together, Varrus gathered himself.
¡°I''m ready.¡± Varrus smiled back, and took the first step past The Door''s threshold.
Chapter 78
Varrus walked alongside Syra as they entered a vast chamber. Their steps, naturally soft due to their Elven nature, seemed to echo in this hall that could rival the size of over 10 sports arenas.
The ceiling was tall-at least four stories high-and was held up by massive Greek-style columns. Each monumental piece of marble was the width of a bus.
About 50 of these columns were spread throughout this massive room, and gave Varrus a vibe that this was a temple.
Furthermore, a great mural hung overhead depicting an all black, four armed skeleton flanked by a pair of serpents on each side. It had a circle behind it, reminding Varrus of an ouroboros.
Without reading any text, Varrus knew, simply by looking at the mural, that the being depicted in the art piece was known as the Serpent of Chaos. This alien feeling was like looking at an object for the first time in one''s life, and inherently knowing what it was called.
It set alarm bells off in Varrus''s mind, and had him triple his precautions. Any sudden noise, or feeling would receive a direct attack, no questions asked.
Taking a deep breath to compose himself, Varrus further analyzed the situation.
This singular intact mural was the primary source of light within the entire chamber.
It was light so dim, that Varrus could barely see his feet. Even with his natural affinity to see in the dark didn''t do much. When he shot some restoration spells in a direction, his vision was only improved within a foot of the spell. In effect, they only had a murky sight of about 5-10 ft in front of them given the current conditions.
Darkness consumed the temple.
Yet oddly, the pillars, and other objects seemed to possess a faint glow to them, marking themselves out to be partially visible, and clearly magical in origin.
Given the situation, what most concerned Varrus was if he was separated from Syra. In situations like these, you never wanted to split the party. He would have to be extra vigilant over some nonsense like a trap door, or hidden pitfall.
Glancing at the beautiful blonde, she flashed him a confident smile, bolstering his morale.
Winking at her, he decided to press forward, despite his misgivings.
As they slowly, carefully trudged forth, a cold wind-one that felt like the pattern of breathing-fell upon his neck.
Varrus turned around, and instantly unleashed Infinite Light.
He swept the beam attack in a horizontal sweep, and power washed the pillars/ceiling in his area for good measure.
However, there was no visible reaction.
Syra had remained facing forward whilst Varrus checked their back, and was prepared to react at a moment''s notice.
Varrus and Syra shared a look out of the corner of their eyes, and pressed forward.
The soft pitter patter of their own steps accompanied by the breath-like wind put him on edge.
He had seen enough horror movies to know that the other shoe would drop soon. It was just a matter of time.
Licking his dried lips, Varrus observed some broken pews, and other objects that corroborated his theory that this was indeed a temple.
Along the way, he saw shattered murals, torn tapestries, and scratched out marble busts periodically lining the walls, or knocked over, and left to deteriorate.
From what Varrus could gather, these pieces of ¡®art¡¯ depicted gruesome scenes of violence, torture, and barbarism. For example, skulls seemed to be a popular theme in this chamber, and they were in the symbology of nearly everything.
There were also many dark stains on the floor that began to cake and cling to the bottom of Varrus''s shoes. He suspected it was ancient blood, and constantly was casting a cleanse, and Dispel Magic spell upon himself/Syra in paranoia that the sticky substance could be a magical reagent.
Arriving at the back of the temple, Varrus saw that one particular statue did not deteriorate to time. It was large-like the Abraham Lincoln statue-and was a statue of a headless woman drowning five of her children in a washing basin.
Syra paused near the statue, and Varrus noticed a look of seething rage in her expression.
At this place, the light was bright enough for Varrus to see that the statue had a strange, magnetic luster to it that was irresistible to look at.
A set of damaged runes were inscribed upon a plaque at the base of the statue. It had been weathered away by something at some point, and like the name of the mural, was somehow comprehensible to Varrus.
It read:
[Sw??t ?ot?er, ??ee? m?th?r, se?d your ch??d un?o me, for the s?ns of the u?worthy mu?? be b?pt?zed in b??od and fear.]
Upon finishing his seemingly unconscious reading of the plaque, it lit up in red lettering, and a summoning circle came into existence floating up near the ceiling.
The circle was likewise glowing red, and contained many runes. What drew Varrus''s attention the most was a bright red hand in the center. It evoked old memories, yet he couldn''t quite place why it looked so familiar.
As soon as this change occurred, Varrus acted.
He wasn''t a character in an anime, and wouldn''t stand around doing nothing whilst the enemy did a transformation, or was being summoned from who knows where!
Blasting the summoning circle with a combination of Destruction and Restoration spells, Varrus was disappointed when the elemental and Light based attacks flew right through the hovering circle, and impacted the roof of the temple.
Fire shook the chamber, and debris fell down, forcing Varrus to toss it aside with telekinesis, or side step it so as not to be crushed.
Despite his efforts, the ritual was coming to completion.
Emerging from the portal, a red ghostly shade with an ethereal form, bone armor on its head/upper torso, a floaty wisp of energy replacing its legs, and blades attached to its arms chuckled in delight as it met a stream of Bolide''s head on.
A dark crimson shield briefly coated the being, causing the Bolide to completely disappear.
Varrus blinked his eyes in shock.
Every opponent who had a shield, received some sort of feedback or concussive shock when he hit their shields, however, this ghost completely absorbed Varrus''s spell, like a sponge sopping up water.
However, Varrus noticed that as soon as his stream of attacks hit, the ghost twisted its body to dodge, and flew behind one of the pillars. Showing that while the being did have a shield that could seamlessly block whatever Varrus threw at it, it only existed for a limited time.
Whilst it dodged Varrus''s attacks, it launched a wave of shadows at him. Within the darkened halls, Varrus could barely see the purple black tint of Void energy, and it was only thanks to his magical sight that he picked up on it at all.
Throwing five Mana Stones from his inventory, he worked the Vandercross family magic he had learned, and absorbed what he could.
Two of them were overwhelmed by the onslaught of Void magic, and exploded into thousands of purple shards. A third crystal turned slightly violet, and the other two remained fine.
Varrus frowned at the expenditure, as after the big battle at the Sunwell, he had spent quite a few of his reserves, and he had to hand out a stockpile to feed the entire nation. As it stood, he only had 93 Master tier Mana Stones left.
Based upon their absorbing capacity, he did not want to test his warding skills against that wave of darkness if he didn''t have to. The best way forward was to end this fight as soon as he could.
Shooting a Rally spell, as well as Call to Arms at Syra, all of the buffs under the Illusion tree stacked upon her, increasing her health, damage, crit chance, and skill with a blade among other things.
¡°Stay close.¡± Varrus muttered towards Syra, only to be surprised by a sudden gush of air.
Rushing towards their flanks, the apparition bore down upon them with speed like a fighter jet. If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.
Varrus felt the cold sensation of death approaching the back of his neck, and turned around in time to witness Syra trade a dozen blows with the monster in a handful of seconds.
The creature''s attacks rained down in a flurry. It utilized its gaseous form to twist and turn at unnatural angles, evading each of Syra''s incredibly fast swipes of her blade. In return, the shade counterattacked by spinning, like some sort of twister or blender.
Syra was unphased by the onslaught, and instead of retreating, pressed forward!
Her heavy buster sword moved as light as a feather in her hands, and easily batted away any attempt at her life.
The creature let loose an ear piercing howl, clearly frustrated by its lack of a swift kill, and twin violet beams of energy continuously shot at Syra, all the while, the blades on its forearms didn''t let up.
Syra had a passive barrier of Holy Void around her, in the shape of a thin, glowing film, to protect against foreign attacks.
However, with his Mana Sight, Varrus noticed that the spectre''s attack wasn''t breaking her barrier, but instead had found an infinitesimally tiny crack in the defense, and was attempting to corrupt the shield from the inside out!
All this had happened in just a handful of seconds, and Varrus finally had time to react.
Before he could even raise his hands to cast a spell, the perk Warrior''s Flame, activated. The perk text meant that a holy fire periodically single targeted himself, Syra, or a nearby enemy.
At that instant, white flames coated the ghastly specter, eliciting a howl of pain, as well as a 0.2 second delay in its next attack as it was caught by surprise.
Capitalizing on this narrow window of opportunity, Syra forcefully grabbed one of the claw-like hands of the creature, and crushed it in her grasp, whilst she blocked an incoming strike with her sword.
¡°Auuuughhhh!¡± The phantom howled in pain as its wispy hand tried to reform, yet the combo of Holy and Void in Syra''s unique branch of magic prevented any regeneration.
Pulling back, the ghost floated up above a column, and glared hatefully down at Syra.
His wife raised her sword, and pointed it at him in return. The density of her mana promised a violent end.
Whilst the phantom was busy posing like some generic villain, Varrus didn''t remain idle, and shot Infinite Light at the thing.
The beam attack scorched the ghost''s lower extremities. In response, it threw up a spell shield, and hid behind another column.
Silence greeted Varrus''s ears, and the darkness within the temple made it difficult to spot the creature.
However, this moment of freedom granted Varrus the time to observe his surroundings.
It appeared that one of the drowned children on the statue was ever so slightly glowing. Similarly, each of the columns had lit up with more of those alien looking, uet somewhat familiar runes. If his gamer sense was right, then this statue, and the temple must be what was binding this creature to this plane. If he could destroy them, then they would be free from its malice.
By extension, leaving the Kobolds free to join Varrus''s new faction.
Deciding to test the viability of his plan, Varrus tossed a Bolide spell at a distant column, ensuring that it would have its 4x dmg modifier due to the increased distance traveled. The fiery meteorite streaked through the black sky of the temple, and impacted the pillar with a heavy thud.
Witnessing a scorch mark, as well as a small bit of damage proved to Varrus that what he had in mind was achievable. It seemed that whoever designed this temple went with a classic supervillains layout. Build a nearly indestructible door, yet the supporting structures aren''t nearly so durable.
¡°Follow me.¡± Varrus whispered to Syra.
He had a plan to snuff out this troublesome shade, but it was incredibly dangerous.
During this brief interlude, Varrus began to toss out Fire Runes onto every single pillar, and surface, such as the floor and ceiling like it was going out of style. He then deposited all Master tier Mana Stone at the base of the columns they passed by.
The loss of Master tier Mana Stones pained his heart, because he only had 93 on hand, and there were 50 columns within the temple. However, he could always make more of the crystals, whereas he only had one life. When viewed from that angle, the expenditure was well worth it.
He was rushing to slap down as many Fire Runes as possible, and had already finished with half of the pillars, when the specter began to launch waves of shadow at them once more.
Running low on Mana Stones, Varrus knew he had to take this head on if his plan was to succeed.
¡°Block it!¡± Varrus shouted at Syra, then counterattacked the wave of darkness with a beam of light.
The Holy Light penetrated the wave of darkness, poking holes, and slowing it down, yet did not stop it.
Tossing up a ward, Varrus believed he could block the now weakened attack, however, there was no need.
Syra stepped forward, and cleaved down with a powerful strike. The Holy Light leaving her sword pierced the shadow, then the Void energy ate away at itself, instantly evaporating the wave of shadow, like a block of ice dumped into an ocean of magma.
However, Syra''s attack was too powerful, and it had inadvertently struck one of the Fire Runes along the way.
¡°Run!¡± Varrus grabbed Syra''s hand, and shouted as he saw the Fire Runes light up in a chain reaction.
Every 0.1 seconds, a Fire Rune would erupt, knocking rocks and debris into the air, which then fell upon a dozen other Fire Runes within the vicinity, continuing ad nauseum.
Over a thousand Fire Runes exploded in less than 10 seconds. Furthermore, all this elemental energy entered the Mana Stones, then overloaded them, resulting in an overwhelming explosion of untold magnitude.
Syra was one step ahead of Varrus, and picked him up in a princess carry. Using her superior speed, she ran incredibly fast, and dashed for the exit of the temple.
The ceiling was rapidly collapsing, and an ever expanding fireball was closing in. Varrus could feel superheated air blast against his robe, and shuffle his hair as imminent demise came closer and closer.
¡°Darkness.¡± The spectre''s raspy voice echoed within the chamber, then suddenly, every single light in the room vanished, and both Syra and Varrus could only see but a few inches in front of themselves.
Yet the heat from the fire was constant, and Syra did not reduce her speed for an instant!
The moment of perpetual blackness was punctuated by the sound of metal clashing on metal.
Syra''s off-hand was swinging furiously during their escape, and he could only surmise that she was in a low-vision death battle with the specter!
Varrus cast Dispel Magic, but it didn''t do anything! Whatever magic was cast by the creature was not upon him, but upon the environment!
It was during this startling revelation that he heard Syra gasp, as if the wind had been driven from her. She also paused for half a second in a momentary stumble. He feared she had been struck, and knew he had to do something about it.
Activating the perk Apotheosis, any wound Syra suffered was quickly mended, and the specter was met once more with the pain of Holy Flames.
Apotheosis - Grants the "Apotheosis" power. Once a day, casts Warrior''s Flame on all nearby for 20 seconds. Costs 250 Magicka.
Coated in the afterglow of Warrior''s Flame, Varrus¡¯s vision was restored, and he got a good look of the phantom.
It attempted to spell shield the Warrior''s Flame, however, the spectre''s defense lasted only a second or two, whereas Varrus''s spell was constant, and swiftly began to eat away at this apparition conjured from the Void.
The phantom''s skull mask was constantly regenerating, and melting due to the perk, and a fleshy face reminiscent of some horror monster was grinning at Varrus with a red, sinewy expression of gleeful murder.
Syra wasn''t one to waste a good opportunity, and cleaved apart the arm that was missing a hand, then barreled past the phantom in a streak of light.
Looking back, Varrus saw the specter stand still, and continued to eerily grin at him. It pointed up towards the mural of the four armed skeleton, and beckoned Varrus to join it in a praying motion. Yet Varrus ignored the mad ghost, and witnessed the massive fire gush forth like a tidal wave, and consume it.
Bursting out of the temple, Varrus remembered the strength of The Door, and finger flicked it closed with an application of telekinesis.
As soon as they made it past the threshold, a sonic boom imploded on The Door, causing it to crack, and expand like a container under too much pressure. As a result, dust fell from the cavern ceiling, and rocks shook.
Yet they were in one piece, and nothing had collapsed.
As Varrus glanced at The Door, wondering what to do with it, a purple portal swallowed it whole, and revealed nothing but a blank wall behind it.
Varrus frowned, wondering if they had entered a doorway to another plane. However, such curiosities were best left for another time.
Now was a moment in which he appreciated his survival! There really was nothing like the rush of endorphins, and surprised shock after surviving a deadly encounter!
¡°Hahaaah!¡± Varrus whooped in boyish glee, and grinned in good cheer.
Glancing up at Syra as she held him in her arms, Varrus began to laugh at his position, as well as their shared appearance, because both of them were utterly caked in grime, and looked a mess.
Syra clunked her forehead onto his, and lowered her lips for a tender kiss.
Varrus basked in the moment, but when he moved to stand up, he found that her grasp was ironclad.
Seeing the look of longing in her eyes, Varrus rolled his eyes, but decided to play along. If it made her feel secure, he wouldn''t mind hugging her for a little longer.
Glancing at the Kobold''s hanging out on the fringes, Varrus gave them a shooing gesture; he could negotiate their terms of alliance later.
For now, he was reassuring the love of his life that yes, he was alive, and yes, he valued her more than his job!
So shoo!
The Kobolds got the memo, and soon Varrus was alone in the chamber with Syra.
Casting a quick cleanse spell on both of them, Varrus took in her form, assessing her for any injuries, fatigue, or change in mood.
Ultimately finding no fault in his flawless wife, Varrus lowered his guard, and relaxed his shoulders in relief.
He knew that dealing with Void fuckery could be dangerous, but Syra was much more, hm, passionate than some purple goo could corrupt!
¡°You were swift with the blade as always.¡± Varrus complimented, and stroked Syra''s face with the back of his hand.
The smoothness of her skin sent an electric pulse up his arm, and he found he was unable to stop himself from giving her more attention.
¡®Seriously, the smoothness and softness of Syra¡¯s skin should be illegal.¡¯ Varrus thought to himself as he rubbed against her for a time that would be considered inappropriate for any couple on Earth.
Yet Syra leaned into Varrus''s palm like a cat rubbing herself against her property, marking it with her scent.
Rolling out a carpet from her mageweave bag, Syra placed Varrus''s head on her lap, and gently ran her fingers through his hair.
She hummed a gentle melody, and sang a wordless song. Her beautiful voice was angelic, and music to Varrus''s ears. He found himself growing drowsy, and falling asleep with a smile on his face.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter 79
A few days had passed since Varrus and Syra had resolved the temple crisis that had been plaguing the Kobold''s. During that time, he had taken care of business, strengthened relations, and created an alliance. Yet he was left puzzled by the events within the temple.
The symbolism had been lost on him, but he felt like he had seen something similar in Skyrim. But he hadn''t played the game in such a long time, and the symbols on the statue could have belonged to any eldritch doomsday cult for all he knew.
Besides, blood red summoning circles, and the like weren''t exactly something Varrus wanted to be familiar with.
So he chalked the experience up to being Void Lord shenanigans. In the World of Warcraft, there were a few extraplanar existences that could be described as ¡®gods.¡¯
The Titans, for example, were a well known group of Arcane/Order magic practitioners that were the awakened souls of planets.
Whereas the Void Lords were known to occupy a mirror dimension full of, well, Void energy. Creatures from this realm often took on cthulhu-looking appearances, or were straight up shadowy beings made manifest.
But that was beside the point. What made this temple so significant, is that it seemed to Varrus, that it was not related to the Old Gods.
The Old Gods being 4 (or 5 depending who asked) demi-god level creatures that were spawned from the Void. The Void, in fact, spawned hundreds, if not thousands of these Old God creatures, and shotgun sprayed them across the universe in hopes of finding a planet with a nascent soul. Once the world soul of the planet is corrupted, the Void Lords would then have a means to manifest themselves in the physical world.
In a way, it was a very similar plot to how the Daedric Princes in the Elder Scrolls were constantly trying to enter the world.
What was key here, was that the Old Gods had rebelled against the Void Lords, and were each out for their own gain.
That meant that this temple was a direct extension by one of the Void Lords. This told Varrus that a cosmic level being, one on a threat level of something like Darkseid had taken interest in Azeroth.
There was likely nothing to come of this information anytime soon, but Varrus would be a fool to simply ignore it.
Thankfully, future problems were for future Varrus!
Today was the final day he would be spending in the realm of the Kobold''s, and the creation of the Covenant was one pen stroke away.
Sitting under the great candle at a conference table, Varrus was flanked by Telonicus, and Tae''thelon, acting in their official capacity as diplomats.
On the other side of the table sat the priest, whom Varrus had come to know over the last four days as Waxbuilder.
A lengthy document rested between them, in which it described the duties and responsibilities due to one another.
In it, there were promises of mutual defense, and provisions for trade.
Beyond all the fancy mumbo jumbo, the Kobolds essentially became a client state. One whose foreign interests were completely controlled by Quel''Thalas. However, their internal management of society would remain under local rule, so long as the minerals and ore flowed.
And flow they did!
By the numbers, the Kobolds could roughly supply the following materials on a bi-weekly basis:
20,000 blocks of clay
12,000 iron ores
9,200 moonstone ores
800 gems/minerals
120 mithril ores
10 thorium ores
Starting from the top, the blocks of clay alone made this trip worth it. With the vast labor of the Kobolds, Varrus would be able to rebuild Silvermoon, as well as the remainder of Quel''Thalas with these resources.
Every brick Varrus made was a tiny drop in the bucket for grinding his exp, but it went a long way. Quantity was a quality all of its own, and if he ever wanted to level himself to a state where he was as strong as a demi-god, or ¡®god,¡¯ this way of leveling via a ¡®passive income¡¯ method was preferable to combat.
But these supplies weren''t just to make the city beautiful again, or strictly for grinding exp. As a firm believer in logistics winning wars, Varrus was committed to supplying superior arms and armor to all members of the Covenant.
When Varrus did the math, he discovered that it typically took 9 ingots to craft a full set of gear.
Meaning, every 2 weeks, Varrus would be free to craft 1,022 full sets of glass armor from the moonstone. Or, based on these metrics, he would be making 1 full set of thorium armor.
Thorium, in classic videogame fashion, was extremely rare, and as such, was the only metal fit for a Hero. But it wasn''t like there were many Heroes to begin with, being able to fully outfit one every 2 weeks wasn''t all that bad.
However, what really interested Varrus was the glass armor. It was no mithril armor, and wasn''t fit for Elites, yet it was lightweight, and rated against bullets fired from a dwarven musket, as well as the average mages fireball. In Varrus''s vision, glass armor, amongst Elven forces, would become as ubiquitous as the AK-47.
1,022 may not seem like a lot on the surface, and if he was honest with himself, Varrus was hoping for more. However, Rome wasn''t built in a day, and Varrus was prepared for a long campaign.
Logistics, and long term planning were what mattered in a world constantly at war. Because at the end of the day, it was the Common soldiers and Elites that would do most of the fighting and dying.
In Varrus''s opinion, force from most Heroes could only be projected in a limited area. They were of limited supply, and had to be positioned like nuclear bombs. For the most part, Heroes were strategic weapons used for final pushes, all or nothing attacks, or holding down the fort. This meant that ground troops, and other, more numerous forces were necessary to hold, and take land.
Hence, the necessary addition of the Kobolds in this new coalition, and Varrus''s emphasis on the supply of weapons & armor.
Eventually, that bi-weekly 1,022 full set of glass armor/weapons would add up to 24,528 sets after a year''s work. And who was to say that the Kobolds wouldn''t expand their operations, or receive new technology that could expedite the mining process?
Varrus could only smirk to himself at the absolute steal his wife had murdered their way into. With the former Waxlord dead, and the priest, Waxbuilder, playing ball, the temple vanishing, and Varrus wearing the biggest candlestick on his head, the Kobolds did not resist Varrus''s demands whatsoever.
However, despite his near dictatorial control over the Longcandle clan, there were a few concessions Varrus had agreed to, in the interest of strengthening this new ally.
Quel''Thalas was to provide:
- 1,000 tons of wax quarterly
- Foodstuffs, tools and clothing
- A training program for 100 paladins and priests every decade
- Protection
Varrus had insisted on these provisions, because although he was taking advantage of the Kobolds, that did not mean he wanted them to suffer. Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
By providing so much wax-which was readily available due to the Elven addiction to tea and honey-Varrus would help strengthen the idol that the Kobolds worshiped, making them happier, and more effective workers. Additionally, this showed Waxbuilder that the alliance was worth it, as it solidified his power base.
Secondly, food, tools, and clothing would help increase the Kobold population, and decrease deaths. Azeroth was a huge planet, one with resources free for the taking. When war inevitably broke out, the Kobolds would need the numbers to help the Covenant seize those new pieces of land. This was especially true of Northrend, the continent just north of Quel''Thalas, across the sea. It was a vast land that had largely remained in a state of wilderness, like Russia or Canada, and would inevitably be a new frontier for Varrus''s burgeoning empire.
Thirdly, Varrus had seen the potential that the Kobold paladins had. Their faith in the Light was shared by the Humans, and the Highborn. It was an excellent tool to bind their cultures together.
At its core, the Covenant was an empire formed through mutually beneficial arrangements, but the Light would act as the glue holding said coalition from falling apart. It was this facet that Varrus took inspiration from the faction from Halo, and decided on naming this new organization, the Covenant.
Besides, it wasn¡¯t like he was selling a false promise like the prophets in Halo.
The Light was very real in Warcraft, and could literally heal wounds, cure diseases, and empower someone to superhuman feats solely based on faith. In some extreme cases, people could extend their lifespan, live forever, or be brought back from the dead! Heck, if powers such as these were readily observable on Earth, the majority of people, if not every person would follow this religion.
He had a few hangups about this method, given Earth history, but accepting literal ratmen into the fold was more palatable when they all shared a common cultural idiosyncrasy.
Lastly, a Rune Stone, and semi-permanent town portal had been set up within the domed city. The Rune Stone acted as a shield from scrying, whilst the portal would be activated every two weeks to facilitate trade.
Sunstrider Square acted as the teleportation hub now for the Kobolds, and Quel''Thalas''s major port town, Sunsail Anchorage. It fed directly into Silvermoon''s trade bazaar, and Varrus could see a future where the city became a hub for commerce, and the sharing of ideas. One day, he would restore the universities, and the brightest minds throughout the empire would be invited to study there, leading to enrichment for the Covenant as a whole.
The Highborn wouldn''t like foreign races in their homeland, but at this point in time, Varrus was a national Hero, the First Seat of the Convocation, and best friends with the King. They would have to go along with it whether they liked it or not.
In fact, at the negotiating table, Tae''thelon was nakedly wearing a look of disgust at this very instant, and openly drinking from a flask, yet he went along with Varrus''s plan for the Kobolds all the same.
The Highborn were an arrogant, smug people that sat afk when the Scourge devastated the kingdom of Lordaeron. However, they had been humbled when Quel''Thalas lost 70-80% of their population two months ago.
Even old fogies like Tae''thelon could only grumble as they saw the necessity of forming alliances.
Of course, when Varrus presented his case as Elven dominance over a client state, the people would likely clink wine glasses, and wonder to themselves why they hadn''t done so with the Humans earlier.
Assholes.
After going over the charter one last time, Varrus affixed his signature, as well as family seal to the document, as well as a few copies.
¡°Gentleman, to peace in Azeroth!¡± Varrus clapped his hands, and grinned from ear to ear.
Tae''thelon stayed silent, idly playing with his flask, looking bored. Whilst Telonicus was off to the side discussing machinery with a confused looking Kobold engineer.
¡°To peace in Azeroth!¡± Waxbuilder took a piece of wax, and stamped his claw down on the document.
Syra, along with Rho''dan, and other members of House Vandercross stood on the sideline, acting as witnesses, and began to clap as the alliance was sealed.
Varrus stood from his seat, and offered a nod of respect to Waxbuilder, then gestured towards his fellow council members.
¡°Yes, yes, to peace in Azeroth.¡± Tae''thelon tiredly spoke unenthusiastically.
¡°By my calculations, a drill would increase production by 46.7%. Should you dig here, here, and here, you would achieve maximum efficiency in¡¡± Telonicus earnestly explained to the completely lost engineer, and Varrus couldn''t help but face palm at the Chief Engineers utter lack of social awareness.
¡°Come along, Telonicus, the funny ratman won''t understand you, even if you do speak his language.¡± Tae''thelon rolled his eyes, and said in Thalassian.
Whilst Varrus was preparing to depart through the portal back to Silvermoon, he received a message on his scrying orb from Koren.
[The Scourge is massing for an assault. Send reinforcements.]
It was a simple message, however, it was one backed up by a startling video recording.
Outside the walled city of Tranquillien, a tide of endless Undead milled about. They easily numbered in the tens of thousands, and likely exceeded 100k. Within their ranks were many Darkfallen, and some wizards that Varrus recognized as archmages.
However, what was truly startling were two massive ziggurats that flanked the city. Resembling ancient pyramids, a giant crystal sat at the apex of these massive 4 story structures. Energy coalesced around the crystal, and then shot a punishing bolt of Death magic at the city.
The Rune Stone at Tranquillien was diffusing the shot, and a magical barrier had been set up over Tranquillien, blocking the attack, yet it was under serious stress from the constant barrage.
Varrus forwarded the message to Kael''s scrying orb, and received a ping a second later.
[The treants of Fairbreeze Village are almost finished. I shall endeavor to reach Tranquillien by tomorrow, however, it may take up to two days to arrive.]
¡®Shit.¡¯ Varrus scowled.
¡°Varrus, what is wrong?¡± Syra stepped out of the crowd, and said in one part concern, and one part bloodlust.
¡°Tranquillien is about to be overrun, and the Sunfury are a day out. I fear that the town will be taken before reinforcements have arrived.¡± Varrus frowned as he pulled out a map, and took a look.
¡°Simply evacuate the town. The civilians have been removed already, yes? Take the Dragonhawks, and flee. It is a simple solution, no?¡± Tae''thelon approached, and suggested to Varrus as if he were a simpleton.
¡°That is an option, however, the last 3 weeks of peace within Eversong are thanks to Liadran and her army''s efforts. Without them drawing the Scourge''s attention, we would have had Undead flooding the province.¡± Varrus explained.
¡°Indeed? If memory serves correct, Everaong and the Ghostlands are separated by a river. There is only one bridge connecting our two provinces. If defense was the only concern, then we simply need to defend that singular, narrow corridor. I am no tactician, yet even I can see that our limited numbers would do better at defending a tiny parcel of land, compared to a city in the heart of enemy territory.¡± Tae''thelon arched an eyebrow, and derided.
Despite his smug attitude, Tae''thelon was correct. If all they were concerned about was defense, that narrow corridor would be the perfect location. The Elves, with their comparatively tiny force, would be like the 300 Spartans who fought against the Persians.
However, Varrus was interested in offense. If they locked themselves into a battle of attrition in one small plot of land, advancing would almost be impossible.
It was a good backup plan, one Varrus would use to live out his dream of tower defense, yet Varrus wanted to go on the offense. If they could slay the local leaders, then the majority of the Scourge forces would turn feral, and act on instinct. Once that happened, the zombies, and ghouls would become easy targets.
¡°Tranquillien is of strategic importance. Sitting in the middle of the Ghostlands, it acts as a check against the enemy, limiting their movements. Koren and his airforce have been using it as a base of operations, and have harassed the Scourge. In this time, they have claimed over 50,000 kills with such a small force. This figure alone should show you how critical Tranquillien is to dominating the Ghostlands. I shall concede that the bridge is a defensible zone, however, securing a beachhead behind enemy lines is critical if we wish to excise this cancer from our lands.¡± Varrus said forcefully.
¡°Typical Vandercross arrogance. I see my words are lost on you.¡± Tae''thelon sighed, shaking his head.
¡°Tae''thelon, use the Rune Stone at Tranquillien as an anchor, and open a portal. House Vandercross will see to its safety.¡± Varrus said in determination.
¡°Madness.¡± Tae''thelon muttered under his breath, yet complied anyway.
Soon after, a shimmering portal came into being, and Varrus could see the blackened skies on the other side.
¡°House Vandercross, we shall defend Tranquillien!¡± Varrus ordered his men, then squared his shoulders, and marched through the portal.
He didn''t know if Tranquillien was defendable, but he had to try.
It was the Stalingrad of Quel''Thalas. If it fell, then the eyes of the Scourge would fall upon Silvermoon.
Varrus had peacefully grinded his levels, cleansed the city, and maxed out his Smithing/Enchanting for this moment.
Successfully defending Tranquillien was the first step to retaking Quel''Thalas, to begin their conquest.
Taking a deep breath, Varrus felt Syra hold his hand as they stepped through the portal.
The Undead had struck fear into his heart when he first arrived in Warcraft. It was time for him to return the favor.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
AN: Read 25 chapters ahead at: karpqq pat r eon
Chapter 80
(Koren POV, Day 1 of the Siege of Tranquillien)
Tranquillien was a fortress city with a population in the tens of thousands, and was situated atop a cliff face.
Stationed within the middle of the province, this town served as a refuge for all the villages, hamlets, and other small scale Elven encampments during times of war.
Back before the Scourge invasion, when the Amani Trolls were in a raiding mood, Tranquillien acted as the bulwark pushing them back.
To the east was a mountain range, whilst to the west was a once vibrant, open plain. That open plain was once full of wheat, and other grains, now lay barren. The Dead Scar carved a line a mile long in the dirt, yet the Ghostlands, unlike Eversong, were fully tainted.
It could be said that the entire province was tainted with soil so black, it was indistinguishable from a black crayon.
All this former beauty was readily seen from the tall towers of Tranquillien.
Guarding passage on the main road, the city had two main gatehouses, a north, and a south. Each gatehouse was supported by a pair of grand towers, from which archers and mages could attack from.
As one entered the city, they would notice that it had three tiers separated by three walls, and finally ending in a grand keep.
Tranquillien had survived the focused fire of the Scourge during Arthas''s campaign, and successfully held out while the traitor Prince was busy tainting the Sunwell.
Yet without that very source of unfathomable power, the defenders had withered, and succumbed to magical addiction.
Many Wretched Elves had turned upon one another in a desperate bid to feed. This once glorious bastion of defiance had turned into a charnel house dominated by hunger and fear.
It was not the Scourge that had wasted the defenders, nor was it some foreign plague infecting their grain. It was the arrogance of archmages certain that they were too smart, too powerful, that sealed their downfall.
Tranquilien, bastion of Quel''Thalas, home to over 60,000 souls, and shield of the heartland had been reduced to half that number.
It was to such a sobering sight that Koren, and the rest of Liadran¡¯s army had come to reinforce.
Koren:
When Koren left for war, he set out to prove himself, and show Highlord that he was right to trust him.
He was living his father''s long cherished dream of sitting upon the Convocation, yet that hardly mattered to Koren.
Receiving the title of Sky Marshal from Varrus, and being charged with Quel''Thalas''s air force, Koren took his duties very seriously. He truly believed that the Highlord had a plan to restore the Sunwell, and fervently looked forward to the day of its completion.
However, whilst he was on campaign, all that he wanted was to gain the favor of Lady Liadran, and prove the worth of his House, so that the Convocation might find mercy on his brother, Dakar.
It was an alien feeling, riding into battle without his brother by his side, or the fact that he was on a new dragonhawk, one once owned by the Amani.
Yet he had made new friends during his flight to Tranquillien, somewhat making up for this loss he felt in his heart.
Lady Liadrin was a source of comfort, and pure innocence that sent Koren''s heart straight to bliss.
Liadrin:
Whereas the other friend he had made was permanently encased within dark black plate armor, and difficult to get a read on most of the time. Koren thought the older Elf was always silently seething at something, and bitter over loss, which seemed normal given recent circumstances. But if there was one thing he had learned from him, is that he was a battle maniac, and borderline suicidal.
¡°Ten, twenty, two hundred, keep them coming, I''ve fought worse odds!¡± Thaladred''s gruff voice cheered as he cut apart dozens of insane Wretched.
The dark knight''s axe cleaved into a Wretched, then he deflected a bolt of ice with his shield.
Koren saw one of the Wretched drain the mana from 20 of his companions, then begin to chant a spell, and point at Thaladred.
¡®Not good, he must be a former archmage!!¡¯ Koren panicked as his Mana Sight picked up the large amount of energy held in the Wretched''s palm.
Clicking his heels on his mount, he swooped down, and shot bolts of Arcane from his enchanted lance, whilst closing the distance.
Another hand was held up, conjuring up a shield of ice, blocking Koren''s attack.
Koren was so close, he was about to skewer the archmage, however, he was just a fraction too slow, and a beam of pure Arcane was shot at him nearly point blank.
¡°Woah there, Sky Marshal!¡± Liadrin called out, and yoinked Koren backward with the spell Leap of Faith, a Holy spell meant to rescue beleaguered allies.
Galloping upon a golden horse conjured from the Light, Liadrin briefly brushed Koren''s hair to the side, then nodded with a smile, upon seeing he was unharmed.
¡°How embarrassing!¡± Thaladred cheered as he finished up with another Wretched, then advanced on the archmage.
To Koren, that smile was everything he was looking for in this dreary apocalyptic world. That''s what made everything worth it.
Lost in the redhead paladin''s beauty, Koren was broken out of his fugue when Thaladred punched him on the shoulder, hard.
¡°What''d you do that for?¡± Koren scowled, his expression quickly morphing into a grimace as he massaged his shoulder.
¡°There''s killing to be done, and you allow weakness on the battlefield! How will the maiden fall for you if she is forced to save your sorry excuse for a Hero? Sky Marshal, hah!¡± Thaladred mocked, then ran to join the fight.
¡°Thanks! I needed that pep talk!¡± Koren cupped his hands, and shouted after the dark knight.
¡°Stupid kid.¡±
¡°What was that?¡± Koren asked as he flew beside the running figure in black.
¡°You heard nothing. The hit on your head was too much.¡± Thaladred huffed between gasps as he duck rolled an ice shard the size of a sedan.
¡°Yep! Except it was the shoulder! You''re not very smart, are you?¡± Koren laughed, and pulled his mount up and away, barely dodging a swipe of Thaladred''s axe. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
¡°Mind yourself.¡± Thaladred grumbled like a cantankerous old man.
¡°Koren, swoop from behind, Thaladred quit playing around, and toss a zone of darkness on top of this Wretched.¡± Liadrin commanded sternly from atop her warhorse.
¡°Yes ma''am!¡±
¡°Whipped already.¡± Thaladred shook his head, but also cast his magic at the same time.
Koren ignored the distraction in favor of moving as commanded.
When he came down out of his dive, he saw the mage blasting pure Arcane into Liadrin''s Holy Shield, and pinning her down. Cracks were forming in the barrier surrounding her, and Koren could see the mana leaving her body¡he was actively siphoning her mana, and empowering the beam with it!
¡°Huaaaargh!¡± Eyes going red with rage, Koren yelled out wordlessly as he came down fast and hard upon the Wretched.
His spear pierced the crown of the archmage''s skull, then exploded from within with a shower of Arcane energy.
Flying straight for Liadrin, Koren dismounted, and ran up to her.
¡°Lady Liadrin, are you okay?!¡± Koren shouted in concern.
¡°Your concern for the safety of others is commendable.¡± Liadrin''s soft voice spoke with a conviction that set Koren off.
¡°Yet we are on a battlefield, and you are one of the principle commanders in this theater of war. This act of yours is highly irresponsible, and juvenile, putting the lives of your subordinates, and the civilians at risk. I am disappointed in you, Sky Marshal.¡± Liadrin chidingly said, shaking her head, and pressing her lips together in dismay.
She then rode off, and began to issue orders to the troops, and started handing out Mana Stones to the civilians who were in desperate need.
¡°Good kill, lad. Even if what miss prissy said is true, doesn''t take away from your accomplishment.¡± Thaladred begrudgingly said as he passed him by.
¡°Wait, Darkener, do you have any advice on, well, you know?¡± Koren eagerly directed his mount to catch up to the older man.
Thaladred sat himself on the battlements of the keep that they had just taken, and ignored Koren''s constant pestering until half an hour had passed.
¡°Fine kid, fine. You want to be attractive to a woman like that? You have to have confidence. Show that you know how to take charge!¡± Thaladred eventually bit out, before jumping down from the three-story drop down to the city below.
¡°Where are you going?¡±
Thaladred ignored him in favor of marching towards the gatehouse.
Following his line of sight, Koren noticed a horde of zombies clamoring at the gates.
¡°Knights of the Hawk, we ride!¡± Koren ordered, then joined the battle.
¡®Thaladred was right, I just have to prove myself!¡¯ Koren optimistically thought to himself as he took flight.
(Day 9)
Within Tranquillien''s keep, Koren, Thaladred, Liadrin, and a handful of Elites were discussing the matter of supplies, enemy movements, and troops morale.
Koren wanted to bang his head against the wall, it was so boring.
¡°Koren, you seem disinterested, is there something you wanted to say?¡± Liadrin innocently asked.
He was about to open his mouth, and say yes, because he saw genuine concern in her eyes, yet the stern disapproval of his fellows quickly had him shake his head.
¡°No ma''am, the safety and concern of this base is my top priority!¡± Koren reflexively saluted.
¡°Relax, Sky Marshal, this isn''t an interrogation. I understand the Knights of the Hawk are responsible for over 8,000 confirmed kills?¡± Liadrin queried.
¡°9,000!¡± Koren preened.
¡°9,000¡very good. Then, if you find your time here wasted, perhaps you could take to the field once more. Every soul lain to rest, is one less that may assault this city.¡± Liadrin''s clear voice soothed.
¡°Yes, Lady Liadrin!¡± Koren stood up, and saluted again, before leaving in a hurry to carry out his task.
Thaladred followed after him, much to Koren''s confusion.
¡°Too much politics in that room.¡± Thaladred growled in obvious disdain.
¡°Thaladred?¡±
¡°Look kid, if you know, you know. Now let''s go krump some Undead, my axe is growing hungry.¡±
(Day 18)
¡°Come on, up, get up, damn you!¡± A distant voice growled in Koren''s ear.
.
Dizziness and fatigue assaulted Koren''s mind, and he felt a dull pain in his midsection.
A moment later, he felt something pressed to his lips, and when a liquid dribbled down his throat, white hot pain scorched his arm.
¡°Augh!!!¡± Koren screamed in pain as his consciousness fully returned to him.
¡°Get up, get up boy!¡± A gruff voice grunted.
Opening his eyes, Koren saw that his left arm was floppy, but slowly beginning to straighten out. Shards from his broken shield had pierced his forearm, yet were being pushed out, and healed over at a rapid rate.
His mount lay dead on top of him, and the constant flap of wings, and growl of beasts resounded in his ears.
Pushing the deceased dragonhawk off of him, Koren felt a slight mourning for his companion, yet was forced to push that feeling aside as large talons swooped down at his head.
A giant gray gargoyle, the size of a house, was screeching madly as it repeatedly pummeled at Koren.
Rolling to the side, Koren unsheathed his sword, and cut off one of its toes, yet was constantly forced to dance around like a worm, to evade the chicken''s beak.
¡°The spear kid, I''ll distract it, go for the spear!¡± Thaladred roared as darkness bubbled up around him.
The Arcane Warrior ran at the massive gargoyle, and tried to blind it with his magic, however, thr gargoyle froze its own body, taking on a stone form for but an instant.
Mages and rangers were constantly attacking the gargoyle, but their spells and arrows harmlessly splashed against its skin again like ocean water on a beach wall.
During this brief pause, Koren remembered that he had lodged his spear in the creature''s chest, creating an opening, yet it hadn''t gone deep enough.
¡°Go, while it''s paralyzed!¡± Thaladred commanded.
Koren ran, but then the creature suddenly unfroze itself, and smashed down atop Thaladred''s head.
The dark knight raised his shield instead of dodging, and a dark mass of energy spread out of his shield, and clamped down upon its talons.
Koren gulped at Thaladred''s tenacity, yet didn''t slow up, as he knew this was his chance.
Taking a running leap, Koren pumped all the mana he could into his legs, and thanks to the pair of enchanted rings and amulet Varrus had gifted him, Koren leapt further than he ever had before.
Colliding with the spear lodged in the gargoyle''s chest, he channeled all the excess mana he had left into it, and pierced it deep into the creature''s heart.
The gargoyle, realizing too late the threat Koren posed to it, had tried to claw him off its chest, yet the vast energy from Koren''s spear penetrated its body, and turned it into chunks of crumbling stones, before falling apart into nothing more than sand.
Koren was breathing heavily, and a cry of triumph was sung from the beaks of the remaining dragonhawks.
They had gone out to ambush a strike force of ghouls and necromancers, yet had been ambushed in turn. However, they had emerged triumphant! The remains of 2,000 gargoyles were scattered across the battlefield, whereas they had lost 25 knights.
¡°Great shot kid, one in a million!¡± Thaladred raised Koren up to his feet, and raised his fists high.
¡°Ah ah ah.¡± Koren hissed as his arm was still reforming.
¡°Cheer up kid, Little Red is watching.¡± Thaladred whispered.
Glancing back up at the wall of the town, Koren saw Liadrin looking down at him with a smile. When they made eye contact, she nodded at him.
Koren forgot the pain for a moment, and waved at her, only to have a flare up a second later, and lower it as he winced.
¡°Stop faking it, boy, the Lady has no time to heal you!¡± Thaladred pushed Koren away, then pointed towards the seemingly endless horde of zombies on the horizon.
Koren felt his spirit leave his body as 5 more mega gargoyles were seen flapping their wings amongst the crowd.
To top things off, he saw the shadow of a leviathan up in the clouds, followed by the bellow of a dragon''s roar.
¡°To the town, back to the town!¡± Koren urged in a hurry, and ran to mount up on one of the drowned knight''s mounts.
¡°I hate to say it lad, but you had better ask Vandercross for help. We''re going to need it.¡± Thaladred grimly intoned.
For once, Koren had no response to the old man. He couldn''t agree more, pulling out his scrying orb, he sent a message to Varrus, along with a quick video of their enemies. If they were to hold Tranquillien, they would need all the help they could get!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter 81
Varrus and Syra marched through the portal to Tranquillien flanked by Tae''thelon, Rho''dan, the Crossguard, the Illidari Council, as well as a sizable chunk of his House Guard.
Telonicus had opted to return to Silvermoon, claiming he was useless without his golem, whereas Tae''thelon tagged along because he wanted to run an experiment. Whatever it was that Tae''thelon had in mind, Varrus welcomed the expertise of the vaunted engineer.
In total, his forces added up to 200+ Highborn.
As they marched through the portal, Varrus found himself in a large square below a towering keep. A Rune Stone stood in the middle of the square, and had acted as the anchor for their portal. It shimmered, and a blue beam of light was constantly pulsing upward, and spreading out across the city, creating a barrier.
Varrus saw that it was blocking a near constant barrage of purple-black pulses of Death magic, and was beginning to wane.
¡°Tae''thelon, can you reinforce the Rune Stone? At this rate, the town shield will crack.¡± Varrus turned to the engineer, and said with great solemnity.
Tae''thelon remained silent as he inspected the Rune Stone. He rubbed a glowing hand along its side, and muttered some spell.
¡°Diagnostic complete. At the current rate of depletion, the Rune Stone will suffer catastrophic failure in 10 minutes.¡± Tae''thelon seemingly spoke to himself.
¡°Do you have a solution?¡± Varrus queried.
¡°Yes, Vandercross. With one of the ¡®Master tier¡¯ Mana Stones, I can empower the Rune Stone to resist the enemy barrage for 15 minutes.¡± Tae''thelon slowly supplied, as if it was just another calculation in math class, and not some vital information critical to the survival of the city.
That wasn''t a lot of time. Nor did Varrus have too many Mana Stones to spare.
Only three days had passed since the fight in the temple, and Varrus had slightly slacked on his grinding over night.
It took him 20 seconds to cast the Master tier Mana Stone spell. In a perfect world without delays, he would be making 180 of them an hour. However, he wasn''t a perfect being, and averaged about 110 Mana Stones an hour.
Over the last 3 days, he had made roughly 2,640 crystals. He then sent out 3/4 of that number so that the surviving 100-200,000+ Highborn across the entire kingdom would not transform into Wretched due to mana deprivation.
Meaning Varrus only had 660 Master tier Mana Stones on hand. Or, based on Tae''thelon''s calculations, that was 7~ days worth of shield time if the rate of the enemy assault remained unchanged, and Varrus didn''t use any more Mana Stones.
Feeling some pain in his heart, Varrus reluctantly handed out 100 Mana Stones, ensuring at least a day''s worth of solid coverage.
At the end of the day, it wasn''t an apocalyptic expenditure, because so long as Varrus wasn''t needed on the battlefield 24/7, he could always hole up somewhere, and make more Mana Stones.
However, as Varrus comforted himself with this fact, he discovered that the shield produced by the Rune Stone wasn''t all encompassing.
Magical attacks were blocked completely, however, he saw a flock of gargoyles fly into the barrier, then come out the other side. They moved like molasses as they entered, and seemed to be weakened by the Rune Stone''s effects, yet it was clear to Varrus that physical objects could pass through this shield.
A squadron of dragonhawk knights rose to meet the gargoyles, and swiftly took care of them. At the same time, several Arcane Towers lining the keep opened fire, and the steady thump of an Arcane Barrage swiftly transformed the flock of gargoyles into slag.
¡°Tae''thelon, shouldn''t the barrier be preventing their entry? Wasn''t Silvermoon impenetrable because of such a barrier?¡± Varrus was quick to turn on the engineer.
¡°Silvermoon''s shield was powered by the Sunwell.¡¯ Tae''thelon glanced at Varrus as if the truth of the matter were obvious.
Varrus clucked his tongue, and turned away, readying himself to issue orders, and move out.
¡°However, the Rune Stone has two settings, wide area, and closed area. If the barrier was reduced to the radius of this keep, it would perform the function of a physical deterrent.¡± Tae''thelan rambled on.
Varrus nodded his head in thanks, then directed a squad of 12 to hold the square, as well as defend both Tae''thelon and the Rune Stone.
If gargoyles could so blatantly gain entry, then there was no telling if any Darkfallen rogues had set their sights on eliminating Tranquillien''s best defense.
Because if Varrus were the attacker, he would 100% assign the Rune Stone as priority number one on his list of objectives. A pillar that acted as a shield, and weakened all non-Elf magic in the surrounding area was a strategically OP weapon that, from an attackers perspective, had to be destroyed.
While some Arcane Towers were scanning this area, and were capable of spotting stealthed individuals, Varrus wouldn''t feel comfortable unless he posted some additional security on standby.
While Varrus was busy giving out orders, the squadron of dragonhawks made landfall.
¡°Highlord! You have arrived sooner than I had anticipated!¡± Koren said in excitement from his mount.
¡°Koren. We were just about to reinforce the walls. Give me an update on the situation, what are the enemy forces, how do we compare, and are there any reports on their Heroes, or special units? Here, we can talk while we walk.¡± Varrus nodded in greeting, and got straight down to business.
He had no time to put up with Koren''s usual enthusiasm. He then gave the signal for the House Guard to move out as Koren thought for a moment, formulating his reply.
¡°Over the past few weeks, we had been skirmishing with the Scourge, and harassing them from the sky. Their anti-air capabilities were severely limited, leading to over 50,000 Undead casualties. However, lately, ziggurats have been constructed, limiting our patrols. Additionally, gargoyles have begun to be produced en masse, further hamstringing our efforts.¡± Koren summarized.
¡°And the troop deployments, what are we facing?¡± Varrus urged, attempting to keep any hint of impatience off his face.
¡°Mmf, we arrived with over 2,000 Elites, of the original army, 1,719 remain. However, many of the people of Tranquillien decided to remain behind, and take up arms. 7,000 more Elites joined our ranks, alongside 12,000 Irregulars. Accounting for the deceased, we have roughly 21-22,000 soldiers currently defending the town, as well as 2,000 or so Arcane Golems.¡± Koren patiently explained.
¡°And the enemy forces? What about their commanders?¡± Varrus pressed.
¡°It''s best that you see for yourself, but Lady Liadrin estimates there to be around 200,000 foot soldiers comprised mostly of ghouls, and skeletons, with the odd abomination here and there. From my count, there are also a few thousand gargoyles.
In terms of Heroes, Prince Tenris is known to lead this assault, and is rumored to have brought a force of 500 Darkfallen archmages. He brings with him 5 massive, house-sized gargoyles, defeating even one was a struggle for me.
Additionally, a battalion of 500 death knights led by Knight-Lord Dranarus''s predecessor stands out as a serious threat.
Alongside these death knights, is a contingent of Undead Trolls. Their numbers are slim in comparison to the rest, only 50,000, but their Hero''s command over Death magic makes him a terrifying necromancer.
Lastly, there is also a dragon of unknown strength lurking in a permanent shroud of clouds off on the horizon.
In total, the Scourge is fielding around 300 to 500,000 Undead for this siege.¡± Koren finished, then looked at Varus with a hopeful expression.
Varrus felt his mouth go dry as he learnt of the enemy forces. The only solace to this situation is that they held a defensive position with tall walls, that Queen Lana''thel was still scheming in Deatholme, and that they should out number the enemy in terms of both Heroes and Elites.
However, that number of 500 archmages, and 500 death knights was nothing to sneeze at. If Tenris was smart, he would whittle the defenders away with his numbers advantage, then mercilessly swoop in on the beleaguered defenders with those 1,000 powerful Elites.
It was a sobering thought, because by the numbers, the current Heroes stationed at Tranquillien should amount to no more than 12 in total. (Varrus, Syra, Rho''dan, Crossguard, Tae''thelon, Illidari Council x4, Liadrin, Thaladred, & Koren.)
On average, a Hero could one shot a Common/Irregular soldier with little effort. When fighting an Elite, it could take 1-20 seconds depending on the situation. It was when Elites gathered in large numbers, that a Heroes life could be threatened.
When it came to Elites, they typically could slay an Irregular combatant in 5-30 seconds, and remain unharmed. However, once again, a major threat to them were numbers.
What he needed to do was quickly reach the walls, and assess the battlefield with his own eyes. Once he was there, he could also distribute the high tier potions that Starbottle had been brewing on the side, as well as the glass, and mythril armor that Varrus had crafted thanks to the Kobold''s supplies. As well as hand out his only set of extra thorium armor to Koren. The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
Fortunately, the people he had brought with him were anything but weak, and both he and Syra were at the high end when it came to Hero units.
At this point in time, he rated Rho''dan to be Hero tier, whilst when the thorium wielding Crossguard fought in concert, they were equivalent to a Hero.
The remaining House Guard were all fitted in the umbra blue armor associated with mithril, and a few crimson thorium sets were interspersed between them.
Each one of the House Guard had the power of an Elite, with Common Soul Gem enchantments applied to their gear. They had been training nonstop over the last month and a half, relearning old skills, or picking up new ones. Trained by the Undead Thrall, Dawnbringer, many priests and paladins had upgraded their skill sets, creating a fighting force that rested in a quasi-state between Elite, and Heroic.
Lastly, Syra''s fans, who had fought with her during the Orc War, were the Heroes who would later fight under Illidan''s banner in the Black Temple raid. Varrus had begrudgingly fitted them with Thorium gear, and Common/Greater Soul Gem enchantments.
Whilst he didn''t have a great opinion of them, their fervent devotion to his wife won them a pass, and he would not see them represent his House without proper gear. Their group composition was that of a paladin, rogue, mage, and priest. A balanced fighting force that would compliment Varrus''s forces well.
Whilst Varrus was internally detailing the forces at his command, he had finally reached the battlements on the outer wall.
The first thing he noticed was that the blue barrier from the Rune Stone wasn''t projected about a half mile outside of the walls.
When zombies, skeletons, and ghouls ran through the viscous, molasses-like material, they were greeted by arrows, fireballs, and holy attributed attacks.
Each arrow loosed from an Elven bow was an instant kill, however, Varrus noticed that the rangers were selective with their shots, only taking out the most dangerous looking foes, or aiming for the rare skeletal Elite.
Likewise, the mages were focusing on hitting as many enemies as they could per spell. Otherwise, they were frugal with how they spent their mana. There was a Mana Stone on this section of the wall, but it looked like it was beginning to lose its luster. If the mages overused it, then there wouldn''t be any free mana left for everyone else to consume.
Additionally, all of the fighters looked sleepless, and had the look of defeat in their eyes.
Upon witnessing this scene, it really sank in how important the Sunwell was to society. Unlimited stamina and mana was truly a cheat code to Elven forces, but without that source of power, coupled with the risk of turning into a Wretched made the Blood Elves a pale reflection of their former, High Elven selves.
Unsurprisingly after a few weeks of fighting, their quivers were running low, and the Mana Stones were going dry.
Fortunately, Varrus had a large quantity of iron, and a few logs left over for construction in his Deep Storage that had gone unused. As well as some Mana Stones to spare.
Quickly forging 30,000 iron arrows, Varrus deposited them, alongside the armor, and a dozen Mana Stones to be used.
Upon his arrival, and donation of goods, the defenders who were mostly residents of Tranquillien, and didn''t know Varrus as the First Seat quickly glanced at him in a new light.
¡°Highlord, you have come at a most opportune time.¡± Liadrin came forward, and reached both her hands forward for a handshake, only to have Syra step In-between them.
Liadrin awkwardly lowered her hands, and tilted her head to the side in confusion.
¡°Haha, yes, I have come as per Koren''s request.¡± Varrus shifted the attention to the young Sky Marshal, and held Syra back.
¡°Varrus Vandercross, the playboy? So it was no jest after all. The supplies are most welcome, but I fail to see how 200 troops will change the outcome of this war.¡± A condescending Elf with white hair, festooned in glitzy enchanted gear, and a beautiful robe pushed his way to the front, and exclaimed. His voice was rich, and cultured, and he radiated an aura of authority.
¡°You are speaking to the First Seat of the Convocation, savior of Silvermoon, Governor Magister Allatrocx.¡± Koren said with a grin that promised danger.
¡°And where was Silvermoon, or the Convocation when the Scourge invaded, Sky Marshal? Busy inventing fanciful new titles, and talking in circles no doubt, as usual. Tranquillien has acted as the bastion to all of Quel''Thalas for millenia, and we will continue to do so. Your reinforcements are welcome, and you may be the representatives of our government, but I am the master of this city, so do not expect to order me around. Tranquillien has over 17,000 local troops, what has Silvermoon sent but a handful?¡± Allatrocx fumed, and pointed finger harshly at both Varrus and Liadrin.
¡°Petty drama when we should be united against a common foe. It isn''t a surprise that our nation was so easily overrun when this is the kind of representative administering our premier fortress.¡± Varrus sighed to himself, and placed a hand on his forehead.
¡°Should I take care of him?¡± Syra said, raising her buster sword, and within earshot of all those present.
¡°I beg your pardon?!¡± The governor said, affronted by Syra''s suggestion.
The look of scorn playing across his face didn''t seem to register Syra''s threat in the slightest, and he didn''t move away, in favor of scowling at both Varrus and Syra.
Multiple rangers and mages loyal to Allatrocx trained their bows at Syra, or readied their hands to unleash a spell.
¡°Highlord, you have said it yourself, let us work together. We have no time for this.¡± Liadrin entreated.
¡°My knights are with you.¡± Koren said after a moment of struggle flashed across his face.
¡°Bahahaha, you fools. No one crosses a Vandercross.¡± Thaladred laughed as he came down a flight of stairs, his black armor caked in purple-black blood.
¡°Darkener, you are the premier duelist amongst all of Quel''Thalas, a devoted ally to Sanguinar, and you would side with these children?¡± Allatrocx sniffed.
¡°These kids? I hate their guts, but I''m not stupid, you could say I''ve been convinced.¡± Thaladred darkly intoned as he glanced at Syra''s wide grin. ¡°Besides, the title of best duelist belongs to the little lass holding a sword to your chin.¡± Thaladred''s gruff voice chuckled in bemusement.
Allatrocx rapidly blinked, and the color left his face as Thaladred''s words sank in.
He moved to pull back, but found a golden chain of Light wrapped around his neck.
An arrow, unbidden, came from one of the rangers, and shot at Syra''s face.
His wife effortlessly deflected it with her sword. A moment later, the Illidari Council members practically teleported to that rangers side, and were about to toss him over the battlements. Whilst they did this, the other Elites had finally reacted, and all hell was on the verge of breaking loose.
¡°Halt.¡± Varrus channeled his Speech skill, unleashed his overwhelming mana, as well as his Imposing Presence.
All Highborn on this section of the wall froze, as if they were under the effects of paralysis.
Varrus motioned for Syra to remove her chains.
When she reluctantly complied, Varrus marched up to Allatrocx, and stared him in the eye.
The governor met his gaze, defiant, and unleashed his mana too, revealing that he also had the power of a Hero.
Varrus raised an eyebrow, impressed with Allatrocx¡¯s gumption. This man had a spine.
The strength of Imposing Presence was pressing down upon him, yet he neither kneeled nor bent.
Likewise, the governor seemed to have a slight respect form as his efforts at intimidation proved fruitless.
¡°Enough of this, I recognize your talent, and welcome you to help command. You have my respect, First Seat Vandercross, but this is my city.¡± Allattrocx bit out, refusing to back down.
They were standing merely a foot apart at this point, the mana actively released from them radiated in the air. It was so dense, that those normal soldiers and Elites who didn''t step back were breathless, and on the verge of unconsciousness.
¡°Lady Liadrin was given command of this city by unanimous vote of the Convocation. You will obey those orders.¡± Varrus pressed forward, then activated his trump card.
The Illusion perk, Soul Crusher came into play.
Soul Crusher - Feast upon the minds of those affected by a Fear spell or effect within the radius of Imposing Presence, absorbing 25 points of Magicka per second.
The mana that Allatrocx was radiating, rapidly began to diminish, and the perk bore heavily down upon his psyche.
Finally, the governor began to crumple. First his eye twitched, then, his lip quivered. Finally, he dropped down to one knee. He tried to hold his head up high, refusing to give in till the end, but eventually, Soul Crusher was too much, and he was forced to face the ground.
Varrus pulled back, and withdrew his Intimidating Presence, then placed a hand on Allatrocx''s shoulder, and began to project his voice.
¡°Magister Governor Allatrocx, we, the Convocation of Silvermoon, thank you for your defense of Tranquillien, and her people. But it is we who are the highest authority in the land. We have distributed the Mana Stones, and we have cleansed Eversong. It is through our leadership that we shall cleanse the Ghostlands. Rise, Magister Governor Allatrocx, and receive this command!¡± Varrus shouted for all to hear, then pulled up the defeated man to his feet.
The governor looked at Varrus as if he had mercilessly murdered a litter of kittens. There was anger, loss, and a hint of fear. Yet that same steely resolve lurked in the corner of his eye.
¡®Good.¡¯ Varrus thought to himself with a smirk.
¡°I, Varrus Vandercross, First Seat of the Convocation, entrust you, Magister Governor Allatrocx, with the defense of this city until either you break, or the Scourge break. Do you receive my order?¡±
Allatrocx swiftly raised his head, and glanced at Varrus in surprise.
¡°You would reinstate me, after all that?¡± Allatrocx whispered in surprise.
Varrus smiled, and nodded.
He hated political infighting more than anything, and seeing as how loyal Allatrocx''s soldiers were, Varrus would be a fool to murder him so openly. Additionally, to stand up to Varrus like that, whilst under such immense pressure. It took guts!
Allatrocx wasn''t some traitor, or person who hated Varrus. He was simply a local commander who was doing his job. If Varrus had taken him out, he would be no better than a stereotypical smug Elf!
¡°Receive the order!¡± Varrus shouted once more.
Allatrocx was quick to abandon the look of surprise, and saluted Varrus.
¡°Order received! I shall not leave my post until either I break, or the Scourge break!¡± Allatrocx shouted.
¡°We''re with you sir, victory or derangement ranger who had been moments away from being thrown over the battlements yelled.
¡°Victory or death!¡¯ The remaining soldiers cried.
¡°Welcome to Tranquillien, First Seat, you''re in for one hell of a ride.¡± Allatrocx nodded with a small smile.
Varrus grinned back, but was quick to sober up as a renewed roar came from down below.
Emerging from the ranks of Undead, several colossal meat puppets were slowly making their way forward, and were minutes away from crossing the barrier.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
¡®One hell of a ride indeed.¡¯ Varrus thought to himself as he prepared for a long, and deadly battle.
Chapter 82
It was on a slightly overcast afternoon day that Varrus took to the walls. The sea of Undead were maniacal in their hunger for flesh. Skeletons clattered their teeth, ghouls howled in unrepentant rage, and the screams of banshees carried on the wind, all thirsting for the living to join their ranks.
There were two gatehouses leading into Tranquillien, and Varrus had posted up on the south side with his troops, alongside the governor, whilst Liadrin, Thaladred, and Koren were shuffled to the northern gatehouse.
It was from this defensive position that the overwhelming stench of plague and filth assaulted Varrus''s sense of smell, and rekindled old memories. Hatred, anger, and fear warred in Varrus''s heart as he recalled those early hectic days when he first woke up chained to a bed in Silvermoon.
Images of people, children, being torn apart and devoured flashed through his mind. Unconsciously balling his fists, Varrus knew that if they failed to hold here, then that same fate would be revisited across all of Quel''Thalas.
Yet call him selfish, but the safety and security of his wife was his priority. Perhaps it was worthy of criticism, but he would always put his family and loved ones first.
¡°Stay safe.¡± Varrus whispered to Syra, and gripped her tightly, almost afraid to let go.
He was confident, but he still had some fear in him. Varrus recalled what arrogance had gotten him, he had almost died in the jaws of that lynx Loa! If a man outnumbered 10 to 1 didn''t feel even an inkling of nervousness, then Varrus would like to buy that guy a beer, because this shit was terrifying.
Thankfully, he had some skills, but more importantly, Varrus had the most perfect woman in the world standing by his side.
¡°As you wish.¡± Syra leaned back into his embrace.
¡°Should the worst come to worst, we can always regroup at another loca-¡±
¡°Shhhh.¡± Syra slowly let out, and placed a finger on Varrus''s lips.
¡°We''re going to win. After all, you have me by your side.¡± Syra winked, then twisted around in Varrus''s embrace so that they were facing one another.
¡°By the Light, you''re sexy when you talk like that.¡± Varrus whispered hotly.
Syra replied with a toothy grin, and a cheeky grab on Varrus''s buttocks before pulling away.
¡°Tch.¡± Varrus made a noise, wanting more, but knowing that they had played around long enough.
Taking a deep breath, Varrus centered himself. He ignored the copious amount of screeching coming from the Undead, and turned it into white noise, like a distant freeway, or busy railroad. He tuned out the atrocious stench wafting over the air, and he placed a hand over his chest to calm himself.
In the end, he furrowed his brow, and replaced the fear he felt for Syra, and exchanged it for hatred towards the enemy.
A seething white hot rage emanated from him as he beheld the Scourge. The small thoughts about losing, and what-ifs fled his mind in favor of one thought.
¡®I''m going to win this shit.¡¯
However, the world did not stop for Varrus or Syra, and the siege upon Tranquillien had been well underway. As he had shared a moment with Syra, the Undead were advancing.
Directed by intelligent commanders, the largest Undead, who were standing at 13 to 20ft tall acted as shields, whilst their smaller counterparts began to slam down ladder after ladder upon the walls. Some of the giant abominations began to scale the wall, and had skeleton archers mounted upon their shoulders/backs providing covering fire.
A constant barrage of arrows, and magic bolts were unleashed from the Scourge line, in an attempt to keep the defenders heads down with covering fire.
In response, mages and priests would erect temporary shields, and other buffs to mitigate the assault.
This was somewhat effective, allowing the Blood Elves to knock over a quarter of the ladders, and snipe the enemy mages.
However, the large abominations began to scoop up skeletons, and ghouls by the handful, and tossed them either onto, or over the wall. Furthermore, Undead mages cast Frost Shield on their allies, making them resistant to fireballs, and most attacks, further mitigating the defenders efforts.
Syra and the rest of the reinforcements swiftly dealt with these nuisances being tossed upon the walls, however, the ladders were ever increasing in number, and the half-mile gap between the wall and the barrier was being refreshed by a new wave of Undead every second.
Twin Arcane Towers thumped down an Arcane bolt every 5-10 seconds, crashing down with the force of a cannon ball, yet seemed to be about as useful at culling the limitless horde as pissing in the wind.
Varrus saw the ineffectiveness of the Elven forces when faced with such overwhelming numbers, and decided to start things off like any good support with a round of buffs and debuffs.
The first spell that came to mind when he saw such a large army stomping on the plains below, was the Control Weather spell. There were a lot of big boys in that army, and they were quite densely packed. It''d be a real shame if the ground became a thick slurry of mud!
With this thought in mind, Varrus brought down the rain.
It would be detrimental to fire spells, true, but Arcane magic incinerated just as good, as it was literally pure energy, and even frost magic worked against Undead as it was kinetic force + freezing properties. Diminishing fire magic in exchange for crippling the enemy was worth it in Varrus''s book.
Besides, mud affected ALL of the Undead. Without proper flesh to close the gaps, it would cling to, and weigh down the Scourge forces considerably. Furthermore, they may be supernatural, but they could still slip, and fall into one another.
Within a minute of the rain dropping, he could already see results. The overall speed of the army had dropped by a quarter, and some of the abominations were getting trapped like some elephants were wont to do after a rainstorm. Multiple abominations had their legs sucked right into the mud due to their massive weight. Then, uncaring of any bodily damage, would use so much force to escape, that they''d rio their legs off!
Next, Varrus buffed his allies.
He immediately threw down Call to Arms, and Rally upon every ally stationed at the gatehouse, buffing their health, stamina, crit chance, damage, and weapon ability among other things.
The effect showed immediate results, as a lucky shot from an ice bolt on one of the giant abominations saw its arm freeze, and shatter into a thousand little pieces.
Roaring as it clawed upward towards the wall, the abomination struggled to move, before ultimately collapsing upon a pile of skeletons, crushing more than a dozen of its compatriots.
Varrus then cast Conjure Battlemage, summoning five powerful, ethereal-looking Elite mages to fight by his side.
Upon summoning, they immediately began to unleash Adept and Expert level Destruction spells from the Apocalypse Magic mod, such as Bolide, Sleet Storm, or Lightning Strike. Steady streams of meteorites, bolts of lightning, and countless shards of ice belched from their hands, and decimated hundreds of Common zombies.
As for Varrus, he decided he would refrain from unleashing any spectacular Master tier Destruction spells just yet. He wanted to show the enemy commanders that he was a threat, one that needed to be taken out. However, he didn''t want to show his hand too early. If he could lull the arrogant former Crown Prince into a false sense of security, and over commit whilst Varrus was lying in wait, well then, all the better! Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
It was to that end that Varrus had opted to utilize his Alteration/Illusion spells, over his Restoration or Destruction magic for the time being.
Thanks to the perk, Master of the Mind, his Illusion spells worked on Demons, Undead, and automata.
Meaning that not even the dead were safe from his mind magics!
It was time to introduce a little chaos to this battlefield.
Concentrating energy on both his hands, a bright red light pierced the sky as he unleashed a Master tier Illusion spell.
It was:
Mayhem.
The red light descended upon a cluster of more than 200 skeletons, ghouls, and even a giant abomination or two.
The Frost Shields proved fruitless in blocking Varrus''s magic, as they were only designed to block elemental or kinetic energy. Whereas Varrus''s spell affected the mind!
Red light seeped into these minions of the Scourge, and within a second of the spell taking hold of them, they turned upon their neighboring skeleton, or other Undead ally, and reacted with violence.
Skeletons, and ghouls began to bash one another dead, and the pair of abominations stomped out even more.
But that wasn''t all. Every single positive buff from the Illusion skill tree was applied to those under the effects of Mayhem.
Furthermore, an additional perk, Pandemonium was enacted, further boosting their damage by another 50%!
By the time the necromancers and Scourge commanders had realized what was going on, over 3,000 Undead had been turned into paste by their compatriots.
Due to this distraction, the ladder assault had grown chaotic, and disorganized whilst the Scourge commanders reorganized their ranks to deal with this internal threat. This left a gap open in their assault, one that Syra, and the other Heroes/Elites swiftly capitalized on.
¡°That''s my husband, Varrus Vandercross!¡± Syra cheered as she effortlessly bisected a dozen ghouls in a second, then crushed a skeleton warrior''s skull under her heels.
¡°Vandercross! Vandercross! Vandercross!¡± The warriors and paladins of House Vandercross banged their shields, and cried loudly as they repelled the first wave, and cut down the ladders.
Not one Elf from House Vandercross had fallen during the attack, and those Irregulars part of Tranquillien''s forces who had been injured, were quickly healed by a potion or priest.
Varrus didn''t smile or let the praise get to him, however, he did make sure to wave at his wife, and acknowledge her with a quick wink of the eye.
Mayhem was a cute little spell, but it was limited by its range. In Skyrim, it was a close range spell, it was only thanks to his copious use of magic, and enhanced Spell Power that he could direct it to a distance further than the original spell text. Varrus found that the more he experimented with, and wielded magic, the more he could bend the spells he had inherited from the Skyrim UI. It was a slow, difficult process, but the results spoke for themselves. Besides studying his father''s family magic, this was another avenue Varrus was interested in pursuing on the quest to advance his magic above the Master tier, and contend with demi-gods.
¡°They cheered too soon, but the morale is good.¡± Allatrocx idly commented as he directed a snake-shaped flame into the enemy lines, incinerating over 500 Undead in a matter of seconds.
The Magister Governor then pointed his chin towards a pair of ziggurats that were posted on parallel hills some distance away. Their constant bombardment upon the town shield acted as a source of anxiety, because knowing that should they find a weak spot, or eventually wear away at the barrier, there would be nothing stopping the Undead from using other long ranged weapons.
¡°Yes, I agree. Rho''dan!¡± Varrus called to his side.
¡°Highlord!¡± Rho''dan saluted.
¡°You are to hold this spot. My wife and I have some urgent business to conduct.¡± Varrus said, glancing at both the ziggurats, as well as the shuddering shield protecting Quel''Thalas.
Rho''dan followed Varrus''s gaze, and pursed his lips. Each ziggurat was defended by a flock of patrolling gargoyles, and an entire host of powerful Elites.
¡°I don''t like it, Highlord. It is likely that they are each guarded by a Hero. If you two were surrounded¡I fear even the both of you might not be able to escape the encirclement of a handful of Heroes and a thousand Elites.¡± Rho''dan crossed his arms, and expressed his concern.
¡°Duly noted, but it has to be done.¡± Varrus said with false cheer, and clapped Rho''dan on the shoulder.
The stoic, red headed guard uncrossed his arms, and silently placed a hand on Varrus''s shoulder in turn, and nodded.
No more words were needed between them as they already knew that Varrus had made up his mind.
¡°The Light be with you, First Seat.¡± Allatrocx''s poshly accented voice conveyed with the deepest of sincerity and respect.
¡°Do not abandon your post, Magister Governor, when I return, I expect the city to be standing.¡± Varrus grinned.
¡°On my life, First Seat. One of my rangers will direct you to a secret exit when you are ready.¡± Allatrocx slightly inclined his head, before he returned to the battle.
Varrus then cast a shroud of Muffle around him and Syra so that their conversation would not be leaked.
¡°Well, my love, I apologize for volunteering you-¡±
Syra clunked her forehead onto his, and interrupted his speech with a wet kiss.
¡°If you ever, ever thought about leaving me behind to go off solo, hehehehe.¡± Syra spoke fast, and in a threatening manner, she then ended her threat with a sinister laugh.
Violet flashed in her eyes, yet gold pierced through the purple, and naked obsession tinged with a hint of madness gripped Syra as she explored his mouth with her tongue.
¡°Haaah.¡± Syra pulled away, and breathed heavily onto Varrus''s chest as she pulled herself closer to him.
¡°Always remember, Varrus, you are mine, and I am yours. Where you go, I go. Whoever threatens you, I kill. Whoever so much looks at you-like a certain redhead-I kill. You feel the same way, don''t you?¡± Syra looked up at Varrus, whilst she clung to him, flashing him a warmth filled smile.
If it were any other time, Varrus might feel a spine tingling chill go down his back. However, they were on the battlefield, a warzone of epic proportions. The one thing more comforting than anything else, was having someone like Syra at your back.
Varrus wordlessly ruffled Syra''s hair, and slowly massaged the back of her neck exactly where she liked it.
He then covered his mouth, so that none could read his lips.
¡°Our targets are the pair of ziggurats bombarding the city shield. I noticed that every time an Undead permanently perished, the Death energy permeating the air becomes that much stronger. The rate of decay that Tae''thelon had theorized is no longer constant. If we sit idly and do nothing but kill more Scourge, then it is a fact that the shield will crack.¡± Varrus softly intoned.
¡°The enemy leader is quite clever then. Throwing such weaklings at us wears us down, then fuels the magic used to break our barrier at the same time. If I were them, I would commit even more forces to sell the seeming desperation, and make the defenders grow overconfident in their easy success.¡± Syra swiftly analyzed.
Varrus nodded, impressed by Syra''s quick uptake of the situation. It was easy for him to forget that she fought in a war, and likely was accustomed to many different tactics and strategies.
When every problem of hers was seemingly solved at the business end of a 8-10ft long slab of steel, she appeared to be somewhat muscle headed.
However, she had demonstrated time and again that she was actually quite intelligent!
¡°Brains, beauty, and brawn. I must be the luckiest man in the world.¡± Varrus rolled his eyes, and rubbed the tip of his nose against hers.
¡°Yes, you are.¡± Syra nodded along like it was the most obvious fact in the world.
Varrus stole a quick kiss, then broke the shroud of Muffle.
¡°Once more unto the breach.¡± Varrus said, as he signaled towards one of Allatrocx¡¯s rangers to lead them to the secret exit.
Entering a series of prisons, dungeons, and underground cellars, they finally emerged in the outside world somewhere near the bottom of the clifface that the town rested upon.
Seeing the muddy hellscape he had created with the weather spell, Varrus could only palm his forehead In frustration.
¡°Me and my big brain.¡± Varrus sighed at the double edged sword that was the mud.
¡°Just follow my lead.¡± Syra said, then walked upon the mud without leaving a single track.
Varrus''s face brightened.
¡®Duh! I''m an Elf! Light as a feather, and I literally have a permanent status condition called [Elven Grace]¡¯ Varrus thought to himself, and stepped upon the mud, finding much to his delight that he didn''t sink, or fall in.
Letting out a gasp of relief, Varrus set his sights on the closest ziggurat. The Scourge Commanders may think themselves clever with their scheme, but he''d give them a black eye, and disappear back to Tranquillien before they knew what hit them!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter 83
Before setting out on this commando mission, Varrus took stock of his current skills that would help him infiltrate the enemy lines.
His Illusion tree was comfortably resting at 100, giving him access to an advanced, Master tier invisibility spell, Shroudwalk.
Under Shroudwalk''s effect, Varrus was invisible until the skill was broken by a strong amount of contact, like striking someone with a weapon. However, this spell turned Varrus into a straight up menace, because as soon as Varrus broke stealth, it would automatically make him invisible again, up to 5 times.
There were also a few other Illusion spells useful in a stealth scenario, however, the most impactful perk was Silent Storm, which made all of his spells silent.
Outside of that, Varrus had taken some time during the last 2-3 weeks to train in his Sneak skill.
There wasn''t much time since he was busy with a hundred other things, but he had managed to raise it up to level 56.
Fortunately, he didn''t have to duck walk/squat to engage stealth, as the Skyrim UI interpreted stealth as going purposefully undetected. However, given the sharp hearing of the Elves, this was a particularly difficult ability to increase.
Thankfully, Varrus accidentally discovered a foolproof means to level up. His wife had been insistent that they practice parenthood, as she wanted to be better than both of their parents. Varrus had agreed, and had unwittingly found himself dragged into playing hide and seek with the orphans that had been adopted into House Vandercross.
And so, it was through a harmless childs game that Varrus unwittingly grinded his Sneak tree.
It really did make a difference too.
The basic perk, Sneak Mastery, increased his stealth capabilities by 30%.
His footsteps were lighter, and when he deliberately wanted to remain hidden, the children had said that they could be looking in his direction, but couldn''t see him. It was like their brains registered that an object was there, but that he blended in, like just another piece of furniture.
It was only when Varrus moved, or made noise, that this imbalance broke, and the children could then easily identify him.
In terms of perks, there were quite a few that amplified his damage.
Demolition Job increased Destruction spells dmg 1% for every point in Sneak (52%) or a staggering 2% for runes.
Infiltrator made his footsteps and armor 75% more silent. Add onto that with the spell, Muffle, and he was virtually, completely silent as he moved. Which, given he was no Navy Seal, or professional assassin, made up for his lack of experience.
And of course, with the various perks he had unlocked, there was a damage modifier on weapons, but daggers specifically dealt 202% more damage, on top of the 2x damage modifier of a sneak attack!
Needless to say, Varrus had a thorium dagger prepped, and ready to go for this mission.
There was only one hang up Varrus had, and was making him nervous.
¡°How are we going to tell where each of us is, if we''re invisible?¡± Varrus said in concern to Syra.
Syra glanced at him in bemusement, then handed him a rusted knife that had a well-worn, crude bone hilt.
¡®This knife had clearly been used alot¡¯ Varrus thought to himself, based upon the groove on the handle.
Syra slowly closed Varrus''s fingers around the handle, and gazed at it longingly for a moment, before directing a meaningful smile at Varrus, and taking a step back.
Varrus felt like there was some important message conveyed in that look, but he was a simple man, not some Grecko scholar intune with the currents of a maiden¡¯s heart!
¡°What''s this then? Sorry for being ignorant, but besides hiding my magic, I''m not very well versed in clandestine activities.¡± Varrus said, confused.
¡°It''s my first weapon. I gouged a Troll''s eyes with my thumbs when I was 8, then cut his head off with his own weapon.¡± Syra boasted with a look that screamed ¡®praise me.¡¯
Varrus had learnt of her backstory, and felt pity for this broken woman he called a wife, but at this point, he could only find her expression to be adorable.
What a big ball of murderous love!
¡°Thank you for the gift, that was quite the achievement.¡± Varrus rubbed the side of hers face with the back of his hand. ¡°But, how will this let me know where you are while we are invisible?¡±
¡°The dagger is a bound item. If it is near, I can call it to me at any time. I can feel its presence. With it in your possession, I''ll always know where you are.¡± Syra stared unblinkingly into Varrus''s eyes, and an unsmiling, flat expression.
Varrus nodded along. Of course, in WoW, you could bind gear, making it unequipable by others. He had learned about its practical effects when he paid Dakkar a visit in the dungeons. However, he had never conceived that this style of magic unique to Warcraft could be used in such a novel way.
It just went to show that the natives of this universe weren''t stupid if they could create, and innovate magic to have multiple uses.
Besides this newfound revelation regarding binding magic, Varrus found himself in a pickle. He didn''t know how to bind an item, and was caught in an embarrassing situation.
A brief silence ensued, in which Syra meaningfully glanced at the dagger, then back to Varrus.
¡®Oh shit, she must want a similarly deep meaning object from me!...but I''ve only been here for something like 3 months, and use magic for all my kills!¡¯ Varrus slightly panicked, as he worried he would make Syra sad that he couldn''t reciprocate with an equally meaningful gift.
She may be crazy, but he didn''t fear didn''t fear his life over this one. However, that didn''t mean he wanted to hurt her on an emotional level. People were finicky, and he was a complete amateur at managing relationships. What would a woman, no, what would Syra want in this situation?
¡®Fuck, what gift do I give to a murdering lady like this? Furthermore, it had to be a gift symbolizing my deep love and affection for her?!¡¯
Varrus racked his brains, thinking deeply. Did he even have anything bound to him in the first place? Because as far as he remembered, he never learned the magic to bind an item¡no wait, there was one thing!
Pulling a big green head out from his inventory, Varrus presented it to Syra with baited breath.
¡°Hey mon, watchu doin keepin me locked up like dat? Comon, Zul¡¯Jin ain''t so bad! Just keep me out, and we can be friends, yeah? Anyting but the darkness!¡± The former chieften of the Amani Trolls spoke quickly, before Varrus retied a string around the Troll''s jaw, shutting him up.
¡°Oh, Varrus, it''s perfect!¡± Syra grabbed Zul¡¯Jin by the hair, and placed the crying Troll''s head into her mageweave bag.
¡°Ahh-haha¡Sorry I couldn''t get you Drathir Dar''Khan, but his head is still on display at-oomph.¡± Varrus nervously began to explain, but got glomped mid sentence by Syra.
Pulling him in for a tight embrace, Syra shared a big wide smile with Varrus, then tugged on his hand.
¡°Come on, come on! We can''t stand around here all day! I have to find a flower to press in my diary!¡± Syra said with the kind of excitement a kid would have when they''re going to the local lake, beach, or amusement park.
She then pressed away from him, and entered stealth. Light shimmered and rippled around her form, then a second later, Varrus only saw thin air.
¡°Let''s go!¡± An energetic, disembodied voice called out from Varrus''s side.
Varrus rolled his eyes. Only his wife could be so enthused about the prospect of murder.
Tossing Shroudwalk over himself, Varrus followed after Syra out onto a muddy plains. If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.
The soil, which had been warped gray due to the Death magic, was now a slurry due to the rainwater, and reminded Varrus of cement.
All around them were a sea of zombies, and skeletons.
Analyzing their current formation, they seemed to be waiting for something, and were silently idling as Varrus and Syra slipped through their ranks.
Their current stillness was great news for Varrus, and it made moving past them rather simple. However, something was rotten about this scenario, and it wasn''t their smell.
Narrowing his eyes, Varrus compared the Undead down here on the plain, compared to those who were currently assaulting the main gates.
The zombies going on the offensive were slobbering, screeching, hungering monstrosities.
However, the orderly zombies and skeletons down here remained quiet, and lined up in rows.
Glancing once more at the cliff face, a light bulb went off in Varrus''s head. Someone was planning on flanking Tranquillien by climbing up the cliffside!
¡°You¡¯ve stood still for a long time, is everything alright?¡± Syra whispered in his ear.
¡°I''m fine, don''t you find the current set up to be out of place?¡± Varrus queried.
¡°Hmm, you''re right. My husband sure is smart to recognize the difference. If I was the enemy commander, I would have them scale the cliff just as the barrier broke, that way, the dragonhawk knights would be too distracted to interfere.¡± Syra said in a speculative voice.
Varrus nodded along, then realized he was invisible, and stopped the foolish movement.
¡°I agree. Destroying those ziggurats is our top priority, however, I don''t want to leave this Horde unattended to. There must be somewhere between 20-50,000 Undead lined up over here.¡± Varrus speculated.
¡°Now we''re talking.¡± Syra whispered huskily, and she very gently ran her hand along Varrus''s inner thigh, giving him a spine tingling sensation.
Her movements were so subtle, so soft, that they didn''t break invisibility for either of them. The thrill of being caught whilst in the middle of an Undead horde had Varrus experience both panic, and thrill.
Stamping down on any lewd thoughts, Varrus took a deep breath, then looked longingly to the side, only to catch the rotten face of a zombie, killing any desire he felt at the moment.
¡°Ahem, do you have any ideas? If we caused any disturbance amongst this crowd, it would be sure to draw the attention of the Scourge''s Heroes and Elites.¡± Varrus said in concern.
Although he wanted to nip this bud ahead of time, and eliminate the threat to their rear, that didn''t mean he wanted to risk it all taking out what ultimately amounted to a large group of trash mobs.
The twin ziggurats were the real prize. Eliminate them, and the town shield protecting Tranquillien would be secure.
¡°It''s simple, do you see those twelve necromancers? The ones equipped with scrying orbs? We kill them, swift as lightning, then, with no one to report on the situation, you cast that Frenzy spell on these neatly lined up regiments. Then, pandemonium will erupt in their ranks. By the time the Heroes arrive, we''ll be long gone, and this will serve as the perfect distraction while we destroy the ziggurats.¡± Syra succinctly laid out her plan. However, the more she spoke, the more fervent, and thrilled she sounded.
Varrus raised his eyebrows, once more impressed by Syra''s tactical acumen.
It was a simple plan, but there was no need to overly complicate things.
Cause chaos, then skedaddle on out of there.
¡°Right, let''s begin.¡± Varrus whispered.
¡°...¡±
Varrus was about to say something else, when he saw the head of a necromancer suddenly fly up into the air.
Syra briefly became visible, in response, the skeletons who had been neatly lined up mindlessly stared at her.
Varrus could sense murderous intentions wafting off of them, yet they maintained their formation.
He wanted to laugh out loud at the absurdity! In preparing to make this assault upon the cliffside, the commander of these Undead must have explicitly ordered them to hold perfectly still!
Whoever was controlling the Scourge on this front was no RTS god, like Arthas or the Lich King. Instead, they were dealing with a novice who commanded his units to go to a point, only to idle!
Syra flashed a wide grin towards Varrus, then disappeared as she entered stealth once more. Using the speed of her enchanted gear, she had slain 5 of the necromancers by the time Varrus had slipped his thorium dagger into the back of his target.
Varrus approached the back of a black robed necromancer, and slowly raised his dagger. He noted that it was a human, and based upon the symbols on his robe, a member of the Cult of the Damned.
Peering over the cultist¡¯s shoulder, he saw a live feed of the attack on the gates from the Scourge''s perspective.
Allatrocx was raining down constant fire, and Rho''dan was busy smashing countless trash mobs with his shield, and cleaving any zombie he came across with ease.
Varrus noticed that the Highborn wore smiles, and overall, their morale was quite good.
This made Varrus realize that whoever the Scourge commander was, they may not be godlike micromanagers, but this plot to lure the defenders into a false sense of security was quite insidious.
Varrus wanted to cluck his tongue at the situation, but held himself back.
Plunging his dagger forward, the crimson thorium blade easily pierced the necromancer''s black heart-like a knife entering butter-then in one quick motion, Varrus retracted the blade, and decapitated the black robed man.
As soon as he had murdered the cultist, he became visible, however, thanks to Shroudwalk, he was invisible again within a second.
Repeating this motion two more times, Varrus noticed that all of the sub-commanders responsible for this area had been eliminated.
¡°Good work! My beautiful wife took out 9 by the time I slew 3!¡± Varrus chuckled.
¡°If it were anyone else stealing my kills, I''d teach them a lesson.¡± Syra replied sweetly.
¡°Ahem, we must be swift about taking out these zombies before anyone notices the necromancers and their absence.¡± Varrus pulled at his collar, and changed the subject.
¡°Good, good! I wish I had a picture of Tenris''s face when he discovers his super secret assault force is killing themselves due to infighting!¡± Syra¡¯s bell-like laughter resonated across the silent field, flaunting the fact that there was no one to report on their actions.
¡°For once, I agree. I didn''t meet with Tenris much, but he seems like a twat.¡± Varrus figuratively poured some gasoline on the former Crown Prince.
¡°I can''t wait to press a new flower in my journal. Ah, can you collect his head for me? You know, he was my most ardent pursuer.¡± Syra said, implying Varrus should take care of it.
Varrus shivered at the request. People in RPG''s, especially WoW, had a serious obsession with collecting heads.
But it was what it was. In this bananas crazy world, collecting a head from his wife''s enemy was the equivalent of checking downstairs for a robber back on Earth.
¡°Alright, stand back. I have little control over this spell, and while I''m sure you would resist it, I''d rather not chance having you lose your mind and attack me.¡± Varrus said, shooing Syra away.
When he felt her move to a distance he deemed safe, Varrus began to determine where he should stand for his spell to take the maximum effect.
The Undead had clustered themselves into groups, where they had lined themselves up 100 across, and 100 back. There were 4 of such clusters made up of various ghouls, zombies and skeletons, making up about 40,000 Undead in total.
Between each row, there was just enough room for a man to stand. It was in such a scenario, that Varrus found himself standing in the middle of a cluster.
Bringing his hands down, Varrus once more cast Mayhem upon the Undead.
He then rapidly Blinked out of the formation as the Undead turned upon one another, and began to viciously gnaw on bones, or rip each other in half.
Varrus repeated this process several more times, thankful that there were no mages to dispel the effects, or mentally dominate the Scourge forces.
In little over 10 minutes, half of the flanking force had been decimated
Varrus nodded, satisfied with the destruction he had wrought upon the damned.
¡°I once did something similar to a pair of minor Troll tribes. There is nothing more satisfying than watching your enemies tear themselves apart.¡± Syra said as she reached behind Varrus for a hug.
Varrus noticed that neither of their invisibilities had broken¡
Biting his lip, Varrus pushed down on his bodily urges once more. However embarrassing would it be to lose a battle because he couldn''t keep it in his pants?
Varrus blindly groped around, and finally felt the smoothness of Syra''s face.
¡°You are a naughty little minx, my dear, taunting and teasing me at every turn now that I cannot see you. I think the Lady Vandercross has grown bolder when she goes unseen.¡± Varrus kissed her all around the face before finally finding her lips.
He felt a tongue enter his mouth, and a hand squeeze down on the tip of his dick, confirming his suspicions.
Who knew? Syra had an invisibility kink!
Varrus pulled away lest he stiffen any further, he then flicked Syra on the ear, exactly where she was sensitive, eliciting a moaning from her.
Knowing that she was hot and bothered put a smile on Varrus''s face. She was always the one teasing him, it was time for a little payback!
He then ran towards one of the ziggurats in good cheer. When his life wasn''t in imminent danger, these risky escapades behind enemy lines were quite thrilling!
Other couples went to the movies, or out to a fancy dinner. With him and Syra, well, they were unique. Instead of the movies, they stealth killed vile necromancers from behind. Instead of fancy dinners, they pranked an entire army.
If this wasn''t love, then Varrus didn''t want to find out what was.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Yo, in celebration of reaching 100+ chapters on Pa treon, I''m offering a 25% discount on the 25 chapter option, and 50% on the 10 chapter option.
Read 25 ch ahead for $7.50 or 10 ch ahead for $2.50.
Pa treon (25ch) is an entire arc ahead of the current storyline!
Heroic Code (25 ch ahead): 8E122
Elite Code (10 ch ahead): D0665
Offer ends 11/25/2024
Chapter 84
Within a couple of minutes of leaving the plains, Varrus witnessed a large response from the Scourge commanders.
A Hero tier Lich, and Darkfallen archmage-beings of darkness practically drenched in Death magic-rushed to the scene. They were flanked by dozens of Elite necromancers, and Darkfallen mages.
If they attacked from ambush, Varrus speculated that they could one-shot a single Hero if they focused their attack, but he decided he''d rather remain hidden for now. If they revealed themselves now, then their operation would be compromised, and they''d be forced to return empty handed or risk being overwhelmed.
Whilst Varrus was contemplating murder, the Scourge commanders reasserted control over the remaining Undead, and dispelled Varrus''s spell, yet the damage had been done.
Over a third of the force had been completely destroyed. The bones were smashed to bits, and flesh chewed into paste, these pieces of macabre organs were broken, such that they could no longer be raised into undeath.
Furthermore, a quarter were in a tattered, less than ideal state, and required the constant ministrations of the Lichs, and necromancers to heal the damage that Varrus had indirectly dealt.
Hopefully this would reduce the burden for the defenders, and by forcing some Elites to this region, the gatehouse could hold longer.
During his observation, Varrus noticed one irate Lich point a boney finger in accusation, only for a Darkfallen to slap it away, and retort harshly.
Varrus put a hand to his mouth, barely withholding laughter as the Darkfallen, and Lich seemed to argue and accuse one another over the situation.
It would seem that unity was lacking in this group of Undead. The Lichs were former human wizards who had willing transformed themselves, whereas the Darkfallen were recently murdered, typical smug Elves.
Forcing these two natural enemies to work together was like asking uppity, old money Italian mobsters to form an alliance with up and coming cartel gangsters.
Varrus filed this information away for later. If he found an opportunity to turn this division into outright hostility, then he would act.
However, for now, his target was the pair of ziggurats.
Located upon two separate hills, one on the west, and another on the east. The ziggurats had a clear shot upon Tranquillien, and acted as a powerful artillery, constantly bearing down upon the town''s shields.
Varrus and Syra were carefully making their way towards the western ziggurat, as it was the closest to their position.
Along the way, they were forced to quickly side step large, tightly packed columns of Undead.
It would seem that they had alerted the Scourge''s high command, and they had begun to mobilize patrols to snuff them out.
Varrus and Syra were still on the open plains, and were only a stones throw away from beginning their ascent up the hill when they met their first scouting party.
100 Undead came marching down the hill, orderly as can be. A stray bird crossed their path, and was taken down by a dozen thrown spears in an instant.
It appeared that the enemy had learnt their lesson, and had given their minions some basic commands to abide by.
Now, Varrus could easily dispatch this group, but given the heightened security, the last thing he wanted to do was draw some heat upon himself.
Instead, he ran to the side as fast as he could, trusting that his perks/the Muffle spell would keep his movement silent.
After sidestepping the scout force, and letting the regiment of 100 pass, Varrus was shocked to see a second patrol with a 5,000 long line of ghouls follow behind.
The slobbering Undead were moving at a sprint, and were running across such a large area, Varrus was having trouble finding a hiding spot.
There were so many of them, and they were moving so fast, that the ghouls were kicking up a cloud of noxious, plagued dust wherever they went.
In fact, whoever was in command must suspect rogues were at play, because that wasn''t dust following in their wake. It was a purple cloud of toxic air!
¡®Shit.¡¯ Varrus thought to himself as he saw that they were swiftly running out of options.
They were so close to their target, yet a screen had been set up by the enemy, one designed to drive them out into the light.
Not only was there a patrol barreling down the hill, but a flanking force had been coming up from the plains.
They were effectively trapped.
This commando raid seemed to be rapidly coming to an end, and they¡¯d have to either fight their way out. They could charge towards the ziggurat, flee to the sidelines, then come back, or try to return to the town. When Varrus was thinking about these three possibilities, Syra had made the decision for him.
¡°I''ll create a diversion in the rear, take that opportunity to double back, and complete the mission.¡± Syra whispered from Varrus''s side.
¡°What, no-¡± Varrus voiced in disagreement, only to see Syra reveal herself from invisibility, then begin to brutally dice up a dozen ghouls with every swing of her buster sword.
¡°No one can match my speed!¡± Syra gloated, yet as she did so, she glanced backward, where Varrus was standing.
Varrus rolled his eyes.
¡®As if that is reassuring!¡¯ Varrus worried to himself.
Gritting his teeth so hard they might crack, Varrus burned Syra''s image in his mind, then turned to the side, and ran through a gap in the enemy formation that she had created.
¡®You had better run ASAP.¡¯ Varrus darkly thought to himself as he ran towards the ziggurat.
Varrus respected, and hated Syra for unilaterally taking that decision from him. He knew that time was ticking, and that decisiveness was needed, but fuck!
Intellectually he knew that she should be fine, but damn if he wasn''t worried. If she didn''t have those speed enchantments on her gear, then even as strong as Syra was, he didn''t think she could solo a handful of Heroes, and hundreds of Elites.
She was a resourceful girl. Someone like her didn''t survive a decade in the Amani forests, or fight in the war against the Orcs, and fall easily.
However, ever since she reassured him at the wall, he was confident that they would do this together.
Separating from her so early into the siege didn''t sit right with him.
¡®Fuck!¡¯ Varrus raged once more to himself, before channeling those negative emotions towards completing the mission.
Whoever it was that had set them up was going to get an asswhooping so hard, Varrus was going to go biblical on their boney asses! Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
It was with this renewed vigor and vitriol for those who would dare to harm his wife, that Varrus made record time towards the western ziggurat.
Built like a pyramid reminiscent of an Aztec temple, Varrus noticed blood stains dripping down from the top. He speculated live sacrifices had been offered up on this altar venerating death.
Fortunately, there were few guards, and enemy forces were sparse at this location.
Apparently, whoever was in command had redirected the defenses at this point, and Varrus spotted only a dozen gargoyles in the air, and a pair of ghouls standing guard at the door.
Varrus slowed down as he approached, wary of any traps.
He took one last look back down the hill before he took the plunge, and saw a swarm of activity.
Multiple, Hero & Elite level spells rocked the area where the plains and the hillside met. Syra''s Holy Void was activated, and he saw that she was in a constant, running battle against the Lich, and Darkfallen archmage from earlier.
The pair of magic casters constantly used Blink to evade Syra''s extreme speed, and were forced to toss up barriers of blood and ice magic to protect themselves from a violent demise.
Varrus balled his fists at the sight, then entered the ziggurat, determined to end this farce and see to Syra''s safety.
Immediately upon entry, Varrus felt a cool chill upon the nape of his neck, and heard the haunting whispers of tortured ghosts in the air.
Gripping his dagger tightly, Varrus internally scoffed at the spectacle. Compared to the overwhelming darkness of the temple in the Kobolds domain, this construction made of bone and Death magic was several tiers less threatening.
In fact, despite the hallways being naturally dark, he could see well enough thanks to his Elven nature.
Varrus advanced deep into the moving and moved somewhere between the speed of a fast walk, and a jog, eager to get this over with.
The interior of the ziggurat had many twisting turns, high ceilings with narrow corridors, and had spear-wielding skeletons patrolling in fixed rotations.
He didn''t want to alert whoever was in charge of this ziggurat, so whenever he saw a patrol, Varrus would either jump between the walls to the ceiling, or simply side step them.
Along the way, whenever he noticed he was out of sight, Varrus would routinely slap down Fire Runes on the ceiling, and walls that were out of reach.
Ever since he had demolished the temple underground, Varrus realized the awesome potential of this fire and forget spell. He had used it to great effect against the Trolls, inside the temple, and now against the Undead.
The Sneak perk, Demolition Job increased the damage of runes whilst placed in stealth by 2% of his Sneak skill. Add onto that with his spell power modifier, and other buffs, and these runes would pack a serious punch!
After laying down hundreds of runes over 10 minutes, Varrus had finally reached the bottom floor of the ziggurat.
Varrus beheld a glowing green, sickly pool of goo, surrounded by a dozen necromancers, and a Lich.
The necromancers were all chanting, and a purple beam was being channeled from their hands to create a hovering orb resting above the goo.
A screen shimmered in place, depicting the outside world, with which the Lich directing the magic could see through.
The Lich then did something with the orb, and a series of runes alongside the interior of the ziggurat lit up.
A second later, Varrus felt the structure shudder, and knew that this was the source of its power. There was so much energy involved within this chamber, he knew that if he took it out, it would cause a catastrophic explosion.
However, that could wait. He had to destroy the other ziggurat, and fast if he wanted to reunite with Syra. Initially, he had planned on taking them out, one after the other, but he had an idea.
Why not turn the power of one ziggurat upon the Scourge?
While he had this thought, he noticed on the screen, that a big battle was developing in the plains amongst the Undead.
In that image, Varrus caught sight of Syra locked in a one versus three duel. These three Heroes were reinforced by Elites, and were giving her trouble. None of them could land a solid blow on her, but conversely, she was so occupied that she couldn''t deal any damage to them in turn.
Pride swelled up in Varrus''s heart, as he saw her block a Frost Nova from a Lich with one hand, then parry several lightning fast attacks from an Arcane Warrior, who was Blinking all around her with dozens of short ranged teleports.
Yet even so, she was forced to conjure a Divine Shield around herself, to repel a savage attack from behind, as one of the house-sized gargoyles had ambushed her from the sky.
Varrus had a greasy feeling in his stomach as he watched Syra barely recover by rolling forward. She was fast, and should have escaped to the gatehouse by now. The only logical reason for why she was sticking around, was to buy him more time.
¡®Foolish woman.¡¯ Varrus cursed as he felt the love and will to sacrifice coming from the woman he loved.
Ignoring the screen, it took Varrus only a second to think up a plan on how to take control of this ziggurat.
Although he had no idea on how to operate the strange runes or spell, that didn''t mean that he was out of options.
First he activated Imposing Presence, letting loose with a pressure that affected all within the room, distracting them from channeling their spell. The backlash from this caused them all to fall over, and suffer serious internal pain, one even disintegrated, as his body couldn''t take it.
At the same time, he had snuck within melee range of the Lich, and while it was discombobulated, Varrus stabbed his dagger repeatedly along its body, savagely damaging it, yet making sure not to destroy this vessel, and send the Lich back to its phylactory.
His actions were so swift and brutal that even though his invisibility had been dispelled, none could react in time.
Varrus then slapped down a Calm spell on everyone present, making sure that they could not resist.
Once he was satisfied, he then cast Enslave the Weak on the Lich.
Enslave the Weak: Forces a hostile humanoid below 20% Health to serve your will permanently until slain. You can only have one slave per 200 base mana.
This spell operated on the same rules as the Conjuration skill tree, meaning Varrus couldn''t abuse it on everyone. It was a little disappointing that he couldn''t transform all of his most hated foes into loyal minions, but he was pleased to be in possession of such a broken skill.
Casting the Restoration spell, Necromantic Healing, Varrus restored the Lich, and observed him, wary of any sudden betrayal.
¡°What is thy bidding, master?¡± The Lich bowed upon noticing Varrus''s scrutiny.
¡°Target that Darkfallen.¡± Varrus grinned as he pointed at the screen.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Syra effortlessly parried an overhead attack, then shoved her sword forward, aiming for the Arcane Warrior''s neck.
¡°Hit her with another Frost Nova!¡± The Darkfallen warrior commanded to the Lich, as he barely Blinked out of Syra¡¯s attack.
¡°Do not command me, Elf. Besides, you must lock her in place if you expect my spell to land.¡± The Lich drily responded.
¡°Blasted pile of bones.¡± The Darkfallen Herk muttered under his breath before he Blinked behind Syra for another go at it.
Syra jump-flipped backward, onto a giant gargoyle''s claw, narrowly evading the teleporting warrior, and forcing him to dodge the talon that was meant for her.
Syra glanced at the towering ziggurat once more, and bit her lip, hoping that Varrus was okay. At the same time she slashed down with her sword, cleaving the arm completely off of the gargoyle.
¡°Hyyyaaargh!¡± The gargoyle howled in anger and pain, as it madly tried to grasp at Syra with its other claw to no avail.
While this was going on, the ziggurat had redirected its fire, and a purple concussive ball of Death magic slammed into the ground just in front of the Darkfallen warrior.
¡°Lich, inform your compatriot in the tower to aim elsewhere. Then again, I would expect such abysmal aim from a lesser race.¡± The Darkfallen snobbishly disdained.
¡°Careful, Elf.¡± The Lich icily admonished.
A second, third, fourth and fifth blast came one after another down upon the Darkfallen''s position, forcing him to dodge.
¡°It was a mistake to include Humans in this, one of you go take care of the ziggurat, I''ll deal with this traitor myself.¡± The Darkfallen snarled towards a unit of Elites, then lunged at the Lich.
¡°What are you doing? I am not the target of your ire?¡± The Lich said in confusion, yet raised a Frost Barrier to protect himself from the Arcane Warrior''s onslaught.
Syra took this extra breathing room, and climbed up the gargoyle like a monkey climbing a tree. It tried to smash her into the rocks, and tore at its own flesh in a mad attempt to dislodge her.
However, Syra nimbly dodged every last attack, then cleanly decapitated the gargoyle once she had reached the crown of its head.
At the same time that this happened, the ziggurat that had been attacking the Darkfallen had turned upon the Elites, and caused chaos in the ranks.
Syra knew that her husband had succeeded, and that it would soon be time to return to Tranquillien.
But when she looked at the Lich and Darkfallen distracted with one another, a sickly sweet smile graced her face.
Who said she couldn''t add a couple of flowers to her diary before she returned?
Chapter 85
Within a massive canvas covered pavilion, situated at the far end of the plains away from battle, were the Scourge commanders responsible for the siege of Tranquillien.
Sitting upon a throne made of obsidian, Tenris, son of Anasterian Sunstrider and former Crown Prince of Quel''Thalas was reclining in a relaxed posture, appearing not to have a care in the world. His high collared outfit, crimson eyes, and short black hair gave off a regal flair.
All around him, Darkfallen Elites were indulging themselves in bloodwine, and enchanted instruments set a pleasant mood.
In front of Tenris was a scrying orb, from which he paid little attention, only directing the Scourge troops from time to time.
Most of his attention was spent basking in the party, and absorbing praise like a plant taking in the sun. Whilst he relaxed, he was also errantly painting upon a canvas.
¡°My King, our ambush in the plains has been discovered!¡± A panicked voice sounded from the scrying orb.
¡®Ah, King, I can never get tired of hearing that.¡¯ Tenris idly played with a goblet of blood as he sent out a message for a pair of Heroes to investigate.
Tenris then closed his eyes, and imagined a scene with his beloved. No woman had rejected him like Syra Greathollow. Nor was there a woman so dangerous.
His mother''s constant paranoia of Faedra had made Tenris curious. Little did he expect he would find himself falling in love with the Mistress of Murder''s daughter!
He had seen recordings of her fighting during the Orc War. The way she twisted heads, and sliced those green ignoramus¡¯ from top to bottom was inspiring. The brutish Orcs stood no chance against Elven beauty and grace.
To him, Syra was a symbol of all that was right with Highborn society. A beacon of youth, of what was to come once Tenris snatched the crown from his short-sighted father, and demolished the Convocation''s rule.
Only those with ambition should lead. His father and mother would see the Quel''Dorei sit in their realm, and ignore the rest of the world for eternity.
Well, sitting idly by had resulted in this abominable transformation.
Looking at a pale-unhealthily gray skinned hand, Tenris laughed mockingly.
He hated this transformation, this new form made him into a creature!...yet it had liberated him, and elevated him in authority at the same time.
Tenris resented his mother, for siding with the Dreadlord, with the Legion. Once he conquered Quel''Thalas, the Human lands would follow, and then the Legion would find that the Highborn were not to be trifled with.
The Dreadlords talked a big game, but they underestimated the Elven affinity for magic. Tenris had only just learned necromancy a few months ago, and already he could project his will onto hundreds of thousands of Undead. The Legion seemed to dismiss the Scourge as one would dismiss a boy claiming to be a man.
However, Tenris had experienced first hand the overwhelming might, and frightening power of the Scourge when they destroyed the nation.
As a Darkfallen, he fed on blood, death and decay. Thanks to the plague permeating everything from the air, to the plants, to the ground he stepped upon, his powers had far exceeded anything the Sunwell had granted. So long as a singular zombie sat by his side, he could breath in the Death energy radiating off of it like fumes from a pipe.
When over 100,000 Undead had gathered, why, it was the grandest intoxication Tenris had ever experienced!
Tenris was going to-
¡°My King, the same mage who turned the Undead against one another upon the walls has done so again in the plains. I suspect invisibility is at play!¡± The same panicked voice from earlier rapidly spoke up, interrupting Tenris''s musings.
¡°Tch.¡± Tenris clucked his tongue as his inner monologue was interrupted, he then took a look through the scrying orb to see what this was about.
He took in the damage done to the flanking force that he had intended to climb the cliff and enter Tranquillien from the rear. A sizable portion of them had been destroyed, which didn''t overly concern Tenris. However, whoever did this didn''t respect the King, and that, Tenris could not abide.
Infusing a hint of Death energy in his hands, Tenris gripped his staff, and sent a pulse throughout the battlefield.
Various squadrons of Undead heeded his command, and began to sweep the area in search of his invisible foes.
Satisfied with that arrangement, Tenris went back to his painting, only to be interrupted once more.
¡°Crown Prince Tenris, can you afford to remain idle whilst your forces on the frontline cannot take a simple wall, despite weeks of effort?¡± Ranger Captain Ariel mocked as she entered the pavilion.
The blonde Darkfallen glanced at the partying Elites in disgust, and strode up to the throne with a look of disappointment in her eyes.
All eyes in the pavilion glanced at this play, mirth and schadenfreude in their gaze.
Tenris withheld any facial expression, lest he feed the hyenas any more scraps for the rumor mill, and was quick to cast a shroud of Muffle over the two of them.
¡°My mother''s lap dog has come to yap in my ear once more?¡± Tenris said with a sour expression.
¡°Is that anyway to treat your godmother? I remember bouncing you on my knee, taking you to your first pleasure house~¡±
¡°Enough, Ariel, what wisdom does my mother wish to share with me? Why not send me a message through my scrying orb if she was so concerned?¡± Tenris barely withheld a scowl, and instead, continued his painting of Syra to feign a sense of aloofness.
¡°She has messaged you. Dozens of times as a matter of fact.¡± Ariel replied in a deadpanned voice.
¡°Hmm.¡± Tenris hummed noncommittally, and dabbed some color onto his painting.
Tenris smirked as he noticed the corner of Ariel''s ear twitch. It was a tell he had known for centuries. The Ranger Captain was beside herself with rage, and Tenris would have it no other way.
¡°Queen Lana''thel commands that you withdraw your forces. Kael¡¯Thas is inbound with an army, and despite your advantage in numbers, are less than well prepared.¡± Ariel cocked an eyebrow, and glanced at the indulgent Darkfallen in mockery.
¡°That pretender dares show his face!¡± Tenris jumped up from his throne and hissed in faux outrage, eyes glancing everywhere wildly, yet he made sure to absorb Ariel''s expression for the tiniest hint of subterfuge.
¡°He is the rightful King. We all heard the Phoenix Song confirming the coronation.¡± Ariel covered her mouth, and chuckled.
¡°I am the King!¡± Tenris raged again, and gripped at Ariel''s neck, pressing his thumbs into her adams-apple.
Ariel silently glanced up at him with a smile.
Tenris had carefully cultivated a persona of being short tempered over the centuries. He knew that many Highborn disdained this trait, but by acting mercurial, he had gained allies in court who thought they could guide this ¡®simpleton¡¯ along to the thrum of their lyre. You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
Besides, this faux outrage was a useful excuse for when he truly wanted one of his sycophants to ¡®take care¡¯ of someone.
Glancing about the room, Tenris saw many of the Heroes and Elites enjoyed the show. What witless tools.
He couldn''t wait to replace them.
After a moment in which Tenris and Ariel stared one another down, Tenris scowled, and tossed her aside.
He didn''t know what her game was, but he didn''t not like her sudden appearance.
¡°Your mother is worried about you, Crown Prince. Come home. She has prepared a surprise even you are unaware of for any would-be attacker.¡± Ariel pressed.
¡°The Treants? She isn''t as subtle as she thinks.¡± Tenris waved Ariel off, yet he knew there must be a nugget of truth in her words.
¡®What are mother''s plans? No matter, I must keep Ariel thinking I am the fool.¡¯
¡°Besides, who does she think she is to command me? It is by my hand that Quel''Thalas shall be conquered! Sitting in court all day will accomplish nothing. Action is needed!¡± Tenris slammed his fist upon the throne.
¡°What are you going to do about it? Kael¡¯Thas''s army, the Sunfury are almost at your doorstep, and you have nothing to show for it. Your mother would not begrudge you, should you return. It is not cowardly to run in the face of defeat.¡± Ariel slowly explained.
¡°Away with your honeyed words, woman! You may be my godmother, but I shall abide by no further disrespect! Begone from my presence!¡± Tenris flung his hand, and a moment later, a necrotic wave of energy carried Ariel out of the pavilion.
Tenris was brooding. He knew the warning wasn''t without merit, yet he couldn''t allow himself to appear weak.
The Darkfallen who followed him expected blood, treasure, and booty. They had free will, and the only way he could mobilize them were with sweet promises, and dark lies. If he failed to meet their expectations, and returned empty handed, then his mother''s hold over them would all but be complete.
To turn back now would most certainly mean the destruction of his political career!
He was no fool, he knew that they called him King because of his rapid progress in necromancy, and the trappings of the old system. Yet new Heroes had risen due to this curse of undeath, and challenged his rule!
Mediocre Eilites took to blood and death magic like a duck to water, elevating their power by a tier.
Additionally, even some ancients who had died hundreds or thousands of years ago had risen as Darkfallen, and had joined their ranks. These ancient Darkfallen rivaled Tenris in power and prestige. He knew that if he slipped, they would rush to seize what was rightfully his!
No, what he needed was a win to bind his powerbase together. Something meaningful. And what better foe was there than the pretender?
But who would go with him to glory, and who should he leave behind to continue the siege?
Turning to appraise the Heroes in his army, Tenris counted 15 of them within the tent. Only 4 were truly loyal, whilst the rest operated on their own agenda.
There were 3 other factions within this room besides his own.
One group was led by the Lich, Archmage Doril Magefont. A previous leader of the Kirin Tor, the Lich represented the Cult of the Damned, and had brought with him many Elite patchwork creations, and was known for his flesh golems.
Tenris had recruited Magefont by promising him free access to Quel''Dorei magical tomes. However, he knew that Magefont was a mercenary at best, and was about as trustworthy as anyone bound by greed.
He decided he would split the Lich''s forces evenly between Tranquillien, and the assault upon Kael¡¯Thas. This way, he could show the Lich that he was capable of paying him his due, whilst also keeping him in check so that he didn''t think he was more important than he actually was.
The second group was headed by a Dreadlord. One of Tichondrius''s lesser minions, Dethecus. The bald, winged Demon acted as the Legions eyes and ears whilst they acted an ocean away on the continent of Kalimdor. Although it was a small force, it was powerful. It had a contingent of 2,000 Felguards, 3,000 Succubi, and 3,000 Imps.
Tenris could only guess at his goal, however, Dethecus seemed awfully interested in the Sunwell''s remains. He planned on using that interest to have them act as the vanguard against Kael¡¯Thas. Then, when both the Legion forces, and Sunfury were weak, he would swoop in and eliminate both.
For the last faction, there was one standout who was a storybook legend when Tenris was growing up.
Recently risen from a nearby shrine, she was a Hero to the Heroes, and rival to both Vandercross and Sunstrider.
It was General Nightsong.
The famed legend was well known to have mastered the skills of a warrior, priest, mage, hunter, druid and that of the most feared class in Elven society, the spellbreaker.
She was the one to discover the eastern continent after the Shattering, and served as the primary scout during the expedition. Her notes and information proved vital to the survival of the Quel''Dorei.
Furthermore, she was an early pioneer in the exploration of the Void. Nightsong was also the first Elf to have gone insane with mental corruption.
At least, that was the official story, but Tenris knew better.
Her popularity, and power put fear in the nobles, and ultimately, she was put down by the combined powers of the Convocation, and the Sunstriders.
Nightsong was a tall woman who still possessed the Night Elven features that the Highborn were known for until they gained access to the Sunwell, and gained a shorter stature, and more fair skin tone. Possessing turquoise hair, and clad in a revealing set of adamantine armor, she was the center of attention within the tent.
How he hated her.
Nightsong would be given command of the assault upon Tranquillien, whilst he took down the pretender. He could not afford her any more prestige, and would show those undeclared, thay she was merely a legend, whereas he was the present, and the future to Elven-kind.
Thankfully, he wasn''t strictly beholden to public opinion, as he had risen the Dragon.
Finding and raising one of the former consorts to Deathwing who had perished during the Shattering, Tenris was in possession of a mighty beast.
With it, none could easily press against his leadership.
At least, they didn''t dare challenge his authority until he faced defeat.
It was during this thought, that he received a new report. The twin ziggurats had been destroyed, and massive amounts of Scourge forces had been caught in the resulting explosion.
He wasn''t the only one to recieve this information, and the muttering in the tent had grown ever louder. Tenris knew that if they didn''t taste victory soon, the Heroes and Elites who had marched under his banner would desert him, and crawl back to his mother.
It was with this thought in mind that he began to distribute his forces.
Standing from his throne, Tenris paused the music from the enchanted instruments with a wave of his hand, then magically amplified his voice to be heard over the din of the crowd.
¡°Friends, foreign dignitaries, legends and Heroes all, our merry-making has done well to quench the woes of Undeath, yet I sense amongst you a hungering desire for more.
Too long have we pelted away at these walls, too long have we taken the safe path by constructing the ziggurats! Now is our time to rise up, and claim what is ours. To take back the knowledge that was hidden from us, to research that which once fuelled a nation, and to take back that which is rightfully ours!¡± Tenris glanced at Magefont, raised his goblet at Dethecus, and saucily winked at Nightsong as he tailored his speech towards each of their ambitions.
¡°My friends, we have sat and drank, yet this hunger for victory inside us grows ever more noticeable!
This desire yearns for action, for results!
It hungers for war!¡± Tenris exclaimed, releasing a powerful pulse of Death magic, which had the entire Scourge army erupt in roars and cheers.
The tent wilted and faded to dust under his power, and the rapidly approaching darkness of dusk came ever nearer as the sun faded out of sight.
Quel''Thalas''s Heroes, old and new, once more marched to the beat of a Sunstrider''s overwhelming power, and silver tongue.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Some distance from the campsite, Ariel pulled out her scrying orb.
[It''s done.] She messaged Lana''thel.
[He has heeded my warning, and is coming home?]
[I apologize for my failure. Despite my best efforts, he insisted upon his course of action.] Ariel replied.
[...return quickly, we must prepare ourselves for the King''s victory.]
Ariel dimmed her scrying orb, and a wide smile spread across her dead face.
The rage fueled fool had metaphorically run headlong off the cliff, just as planned.
She knew Tenris couldn''t resist chasing after Kael¡¯Thas, and better yet, he had no clue as to the true power of the Phoenix Song.
With Tenris out of the way, Lana''thel would have no more distractions in her life.
All would be right in the world when it was just the two of them.
Ariel grinned as she twirled a dagger in her hand, and strode away from the siege in pride at a job well done.
However, what she didn''t know, was that an owl had seen it all.
Polymorphing back into the shape of an Elf, Nightsong silently watched from the top of a tree as Ariel disappeared into the haunted woods.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
AN: Read 25 chapters ahead at patr eon Karp
Code: 8E122 for 25% off
Chapter 86
Varrus had cast Shroudwalk on himself when he left the ziggurat, and stepped out into the pouring rain to be met with a pleasant sight.
He looked on in satisfaction as the eastern ziggurat was targeted by the Lich he had mentally dominated. Large purple concussive waves of Death magic shot forth, and crossed the plains in an instant towards the other hillside.
Apparently, the eastern ziggurat lacked any kind of warding, or shielding, and was soon destroyed due to the western ziggurat¡¯s heavy bombardment.
As Varrus stepped outside, he sidestepped a dozen Elite Darkfallen. They ran in a hurry, and Varrus could spot panic on their faces.
¡°Hurry up, will you?!¡±
¡°Damn it all to Hell, have the Lich''s betrayed us?¡±
¡°Damned Humans.¡±
The group of Darkfallen muttered and cursed at one another as they ran inside.
Varrus softly chuckled to himself once they passed, pleased with the chaos and suspicion he had sewed between allies.
However, he didn''t allow himself to grow complacent from a job well done. Syra was still in danger, and she was his top priority!
Scanning the area, Varrus spotted a giant, headless gargoyle''s corpse bleeding out, and a dozen other Elite corpses on the plains closest to the hillside that he was on.
A pair of Heroes-a Lich and Darkfallen warrior-were fighting one another in a desperate, no holds death match, yet there was no Syra!
Varrus felt his heart jolt, however, just because he couldn''t see her, didn''t mean he should assume the worst.
Closing his eyes, Varrus focused on the affects of the binding magic, and felt a pulse.
¡®There!¡¯ Varrus thought to himself, snapping his eyes open and staring at one spot in particular.
What he saw was the Lich blasting ice magic repeatedly, and the Darkfallen either slicing it apart, or Blinking to the side.
After a moment of high speed combat, the Lich had created a shield made of ice, and caught the Darkfallen inside. However, the shield was slowly cracking, and this stalemate seemed to be on the verge of collapsing.
Varrus saw this as a chance, and made to run towards them, intent on stabbing them in the back, and investigating Syra''s whereabouts.
It was at this moment when Varrus had closed the distance, that Syra dropped out of invisibility, and cleaved the Darkfallen in two from behind.
The enemy Hero never saw it coming, and was caught completely unaware.
Disgusting red-black blood squelched out from both halves of his body, and bloody tendrils tried to reform, and reattach the left and right sides of the Darkfallen''s body.
When he tried to reform himself with the aid of blood magic, he was quick to find that Syra''s Void infused weapon was super effective. Bright purple veins lot up like LED lights across his arms, legs, and torso.
The Darkfallen twisted around, and gave Syra a look of horror, as he realized that he could not regenerate. His two jaws worked wordlessly as he collapsed to the nasty mud down beneath. He then melted like paper mache in a rainstorm, mixing with the mud as if he had never existed in the first place.
Syra''s blade sang as it continued on its path, and pressed forward into the already damaged ice shield.
The powers of Ice, Death, Light, and Void clashed with one another, creating a harsh squealing sound, like iron scraping on iron.
¡°I knew it! That fool was so smug, so sure of himself, yet I knew there were rats lurking about!¡± The Lich crowed.
¡°Of course, now that you are locked in the same place, you can share his fate!¡± The Lich taunted as he finished a spell.
A second later, icy chains erupted from the ground in a 100 ft radius. They acted like they had a life of their own, and homed in on Syra from all directions.
Syra flashed the Lich a bright smile, and flicked her hair.
The Lich''s eyes glowed menacingly. Reacting to Syra''s odd behavior, he jerked forward, and reached behind himself with a frozen hand, however he grasped at nothing but air.
¡°Phah, you aren''t as clever as you think you are, girl.¡± The Lich growled, and redoubled the power on his ice shield, gripping tight onto her buster sword in an effort to lock Syra in place.
Syra blew a kiss behind the Lich.
¡°I''m not falling for that a second ti-¡± The Lich admonished, yet caught a dagger to the back of his skull mid-sentence.
With his death, the icy chains vanished like ice on a summer''s day.
¡°You are a bad boy.¡± Syra said, and pulled Varrus close for a rough kiss on the lips.
After a moment, Varrus breathlessly pulled away from her, then gave her a tight squeeze on the arm to voice his displeasure. At the same time, he lovingly stroked her hair, letting her know that he still loved and cared for her well-being.
¡°And you are a reckless girl. I think I got a gray hair or two from what you did back there.¡± Varrus pursed his lips, and shook his head in displeasure.
¡°Sorry.¡± Syra said in a small voice, and looked down at the ground.
¡°Haah, what am I going to do with you?¡± Varrus said to himself, then lifted her chin, and examined her for any scratches or scuff marks.
After a moment had passed, Varrus blasted Syra with a Restoration spell for good measure, then gripped her by the shoulders. Staring into her eyes, Varrus found her smiling at him.
¡®What an unreasonable woman.¡¯ Varrus looked away.
¡°By the way, we should probably get out of here soon.¡± Varrus said, realizing that the Elites in the ziggurat would be activating the trap he left for them any second now.
Syra wordlessly nodded along, and followed Varrus as he began to run in a sprint. Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.
They had traveled a few hundred feet when a sonic boom resounded throughout the land.
¡°Nice work.¡¯ Syra gave Varrus a double thumbs up.
¡°Acting cute won''t make me forgive you so soon.¡± Varrus grumbled, and bopped her on the head.
It was at that moment, that the shockwave from the blast came upon them, and Varrus stumbled into Syra''s arms. However, Syra twirled out of the way, like a ballerina, and dropped Varrus in the mud.
¡°Oops.¡± Syra grinned.
Varrus wiped the mud off his face, then tossed a clump at his wife.
Syra stood completely still, and watched as the mud flew way off to the side.
She arched an eyebrow at him, and covered her mouth, barely withholding a giggle.
¡°Tch. We don''t have time for this. There is sure to be a reprisal for our actions. I suggest we enter stealth, then flank the enemy force. When they commit everything on Tranquillien for a final push, then we''ll strike from behind.¡± Varrus outlined his plan.
¡°Mm hmm, I want to pluck a few flowers along the way~¡± Syra excitedly skipped across the mud, then turned invisible.
Varrus caught sight of her rain slicked robes right before she disappeared from sight, and the way they tightly clung around her ass sent his mind to the gutter.
¡®Fuck.¡¯ Varrus thought to himself, and released a pent up sigh of exasperation.
Ever since he had set up the Covenant with the Kobolds, he hadn''t gotten any! Then these asshole Darkfallen had launched a full scale assault on Tranquillien as soon as he had finished business, blue balling him again!
Clenching his fists, Varrus took a deep breath then relaxed. Making love was nice, but Syra''s safety was number one. If she could continue to joke around like that when they were deep in enemy territory, then he knew she was good.
¡°Come on~ I want to pluck some heads already~¡± Syra poked Varrus in the side, slightly startling him such that he almost slipped on the mud again.
¡°You''re such a spoiled brat.¡± Varrus replied, reaching out into the air until Syra placed her invisible head underneath his palm.
Varrus rubbed her hair for a second, enjoying the warmth they shared.
He could practically feel her pout when he finished after just 30 seconds.
Grinning to himself, Varrus tossed an Invisibility spell over himself, and began to take the long way around the plains, with the intent to avoid any more patrols whilst they flanked the enemy.
During this journey in which he was circumnavigating the battlefield, Varrus noticed a massive movement coming from the plains.
Half of the Scourge forces split off from the siege, along with a large contingent of Heroes and Elites. A large shadow blotted out the sun, and a Dragon''s roar echoed through the air, heralding the Undead''s march.
Their destination seemed to be north, straight into Eversong!
Varrus stayed out of the army''s way whilst they marched forth. Once the Scourge had completely passed them by, Varrus pulled out his scrying orb to warn Kael¡¯Thas.
[Roughly 100,000 Scourge are marching towards Eversong. Be ready.] Varrus messaged.
Varrus felt some tension as Kael¡¯Thas took his sweet time responding. He had experience getting/giving the cold shoulder via text, but lives were on the line! Every second of delay meant that the Sunfury could be ambushed, or that the Scourge might even bypass Kael¡¯Thas, and sack Silvermoon!
Kael was taking so long to respond, that Varrus had arrived at the enemy''s flank by the time he received a message.
[Then we shall hold them where the river splits the provinces.] Kael responded.
[Be wary, Undead have no need to breathe, the gentle currents of the river won''t pose much of an issue to them. Their mages could also freeze the water, eliminating the choke point.] Varrus cautioned.
[Then we shall burn them down! The passage is flanked by large hills on both sides. We will strike the stain of the Scourge from this land. But enough of this, how goes the defense of Tranquillien?]
Varrus glanced up from Kael''s message, and saw that the Scourge''s renewed offensive had yielded results. One of the gatehouses had collapsed, and the town shield had retracted to the city proper.
Whoever had taken command of the siege must be someone different, because they were much more effective.
[We are holding, however, I am needed. I have to go.] Varrus finished.
Varrus motioned towards the backline of the Scourge army, indicating that he and Syra should attack.
Silence greeted him, and Varrus remembered he was invisible, making his gesture pointless. He slapped his head in annoyance at the rookie mistake.
¡°Is that the signal to attack?¡± Syra whispered.
¡°What? Oh-oh, yeah. Let''s hit the backline hard, and fast.¡± Varrus whispered back.
¡°Good! I bet I can get more stealth kills before we are discovered than you!¡± Syra boasted.
Varrus rolled his eyes, knowing his silly wife must be grinning from ear to ear. This was a serious situation, every second delayed could be a life on the line!
A beat passed, and Varrus beheld the endless line of Undead rushing towards the broken gatehouse, eager to enter the city.
Varrus stroked his chin in thought, if they were truly on the brink of collapse, Rho''dan would message him. Besides, the damage done to the rear would act as a destabilizing factor, this operation could be nothing but a net positive for the defenders.
¡°Alright, let''s set some ground rules. Common soldiers are 1 point, Elites are worth 100, and Heroes 10,000.¡± Varrus offered, as he was caught up in her excitement.
¡°Sounds good!¡± Syra replied with a joy-filled laugh.
¡°I look forward to tasting the fruits of victory.¡± Varrus teased back.
Instead of a verbal response, Syra replied by becoming a whoosh of air.
A second later, and entire row of 100 Common skeletons had their bodies bisected twice.
Syra briefly became visible, and shot Varrus a smug, confident look before she reentered stealth.
Varrus spat to the side. Her ability to silently clear trash mobs was simply unfair! If only he could bring down the Forbidden Sun, or Infinite Light, then they''d see who the real master of AOE was!
Shaking his head, Varrus quickly scanned his spell list for a solution. He needed something swift, yet surgical. It had to be something silent too, so no fire, and no lightning. Because even though the perk Silent Storm made spells silent, a fireball still exploded, and lightning was bright as Hell!
Browsing his spell list, Varrus found what he was looking for.
¡®Perfect.¡¯ Varrus smirked, then equipped the Adept level Destruction spell, Ice Shiv.
Ice Shiv: Jagged shard that deals 30 frost damage to Health and Stamina. Targets hit from behind take x3 damage.
The damage wasn''t anything special, but with his Spell Power modifier, 3x damage buff, and other stealth buffs, he figured this baby might be capable of one-shotting an Elite.
Watching Syra decimate another dozen skeletons, Varrus felt his chances of victory slipping away, and began to hurl Ice Shivs into the enemy line with precision.
Jagged shards of ice pierced on Undead after the other. Varrus tossed them so fast, he quickly scored over 50 kills.
¡°Tch.¡± Varrus scowled as he realized that his method was much slower than Syra''s.
At this rate, it was only a matter of time before they were revealed, or noticed by a Hero.
¡®I might as well go all in while we still have the element of surprise.¡¯ Varrus thought to himself as his Ice Shivs claimed 200 lives compared to Syra¡¯s 1,200+.
It''s not like Varrus was a sore loser or anything. It was simply logical to attack with the strongest method from the start. Weren''t all those supervillains in comic books who only used a fraction of their power at the start the ones in the wrong? If anything, Varrus was being respectful to the enemy by going all out!
Varrus nodded his head as it was all coming together.
Thanks to his Mana Sight, he was able to zero in on the strongest amount of energy condensed in this area, and spotted a Lich.
¡®Sorry bud, but it''s nothing personal. You''re just my ticket to winning this thing.¡¯ Varrus thought to himself as he prepared a Master tier spell to drop on top of the Sorry bastard''s head.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter 87
The Lich, Doril Magefont, former Archmage of the Kirin Tor, and early disciple of Kel¡¯Thuzad watched on in awe as the Darkfallen known as General Nightsong practically took the gatehouse singlehandedly.
The defenders were forced to book a hasty retreat as the ancient Highborn Hero called upon the roots of the earth to eat away at the wall''s foundations.
Initially, he felt snubbed when his employer, Tenris, had left him behind to continue the siege. Furthermore, the so-called King took with him Doril''s most prized meat puppets.
All he was left with were some ghouls, and a handful of abominations to fill up the ranks.
Posted on guarding the rear, he found himself idle, surrounded by tens of thousands of cannon fodder, and mindless automata roughly adding up to 60,000 Common tier Undead.
How disappointing.
The one saving grace was that the remaining 3 Hero tier gargoyles were left under his command.
Any regret at his current situation swiftly disappeared as he played witness to Nightsong''s mastery of magic.
A deep seated hunger took ahold of him when he watched her. If only he could set up a trap, then pick her brain for knowledge.
Doril was deep in his thoughts, when a bright light pierced the clouds. The rain in his area stopped, and the constant chill of Death magic permeating the air melted as it basked in the warmth of the sun.
¡®That¡¯s odd.¡¯ Doril thought to himself, and looked up as he sensed a change in the currents of mana around him.
If he could blink, he would.
That was no sun. It was a giant orb of fire! And it was descending right on top of him!
Doril quickly composed himself, and tried to Blink away, however, he found himself gripped in a telekinetic hold.
He was immobile!
Doril erupted with an AOE circle of frost, hoping to destabilize the magic binding him in place.
¡®Success!¡¯ Doril thought to himself as he felt the sweet release of freedom.
However, whichever mage was working against him was observant, and had established their hold upon him once more!
¡®Blast it all!¡¯
Doril realized he wouldn''t be able to escape, and that the only way out of this was to meet the attack head on.
Chanting a spell, Doril launched a twisting cone of frost towards the center of the giant flaming orb with the intent of penetrating its core, and detonating it early.
Frost met fire, and when Doril felt that his plan would come to fruition, his body was telekinetically hurled into the path of the impending collision.
Doril felt his bones ache, and for the first time in his unlife, terror gripped him.
Grinding his teeth together in anger, Doril pulled upon the essence animating the nearby Scourge forces, and snapped it like a twig.
Suddenly, 10,000 Undead dropped to the ground, like a puppet with its strings cut.
Foul green necrotic energy flowed upward, and infused the Lich with incredible power.
Feeling his body threatening to come apart from the sudden surge of energy, Doril cast the spell Anti-Magic Shell. Encased in a green barrier, he prayed to the Lich King that this would work.
As soon as he pulled the barrier up, the cyclone of ice he had sent skyward, and the giant flaming ball of fire collided.
Due to the enemy mage¡¯s telekinesis, Doril was within 20ft when an eruption of magical energy rocked the air.
Bright white light, and a flash of heat pressed over him in a flash, significantly draining the power of his Anti-Magic Shield, however, he was still alive!
Pulling upon his necromancy, Doril searched through the eyes of the Undead in hopes of finding the perpetrator. Whoever had ambushed him would be in for a rude awakening!
¡®There!¡¯ Doril thought to himself as his ghouls spotted a row of broken limbs and bodies at their rear.
What he saw made Doril pause.
In a space that should be a clearing, stood an 8 story tall tower. All along the structure, massive Mana Crystals poked out from the sides.
Standing at the very top was a regal looking Highborn in a red robe.
¡®This must be the mage troubling me!¡¯ Doril solemnly thought to himself.
The mage had noticed him, and made to attack, his hands lit up with a bright blue-white energy.
¡®Ah, lightning. Well two can play that game!¡¯
Doril pulled upon the energy of 10,000 more Undead, then at the same time, chanted as spell drawing upon the power held in the clouds above.
Merging the two, a rainstorm of pale green, necrotic lightning bolts shuddered downward right atop the enemy mage.
Doril looked on in anticipation, eager to see this fool''s demise. However, he wasn''t taking any chances, and mentally ordered the massive gargoyles to fly close, in case his opponent Blinked away.
As the green lightning storm collided with the tower, the barrage of bolts seemed to scatter away from the Elf at the top, and snaked down towards the Mana Crystals lodged into the structure!
Doril had no saliva, or flesh to speak of, but he felt his throat go dry at that moment.
¡°What sorcery is this?¡± Doril shouted in disbelief.
Unbelievably, the regal looking Elf responded.
¡°I call it the Tower of Jenga!¡± His voice bore down upon Doril like a storm.
¡®Even his voice is a weapon!¡¯ Doril found himself recoiling as some invisible tendrils gripped at his psyche.
Shaking his head, and snapping down upon his mind like a trap closing shut, Doril commanded the gargoyles to make a move.
It was then that the Elf completed his spell, and a bright beam made of pure electricity spilled from his hands.
The beam was as wide as two carriages were long, and produced a deafening thunder clap as it came towards him.
¡®Stone form!¡¯ Doril desperately commanded one of his gargoyles.
One massive beast bared its fangs, and interposed itself between Doril and the beam. Its flesh became like brick, and took on a magically resistant, imobile state. This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.
The gargoyle acting as his shield groaned as it was constantly chipped away by the awe inspiring power, yet it held firm.
Doril felt relief as the 4-story tall beast made it just in time. Once he slayed this mage, he simply had to add him to his collection. The knowledge he possessed would prove most entertaining!
He excitedly looked on in anticipation as the two other gargoyles swooped down upon the mage, and were mere moments away from turning his hopes into a reality.
It was then, in his moment of triumph, that he felt that hope drain away.
The Mana Stones embedded on the side of the tower flashed, and a pulse of Death magic spread out of them towards the gargoyles.
¡®The fool doesn''t know that the Undead heal when coming into contact with Death magic, does he? Unless, no, could he be a fellow cult member?!¡¯ Doril went through several emotions as he realized that the necrotic energy released from the Mana Stones overwhelmed the imprint he had on the gargoyles, and cut his connection with them.
The two gargoyles he had been banking on collapsed to the ground with a mighty thud.
Doril had no time to process this sudden turn of events, as the 4-story gargoyle that was acting as his shield had become a smoldering ruin, and was on the verge of collapse!
At that moment, the thought to flee entered Doril''s mind.
He wanted to open a portal, but he felt like he was low on mana. Pulling upon 10,000 more Undead, Doril intended to strengthen his Anti-Magic Shield, and then escape.
However, when he tried to do so, something was wrong. There was nothing to pull upon!
Twirling around, Doril discovered that the army that had been surrounding him a moment ago were nothing more than burnt out husks, and scraps of ash.
¡°Who are you!¡± Doril screeched shrilly towards the heavens.
He had not known such fear for another wizard since he had witnessed the power and devastation of his master, Kel¡¯Thuzad.
¡°Vandercross!¡± The magnetic voice atop the tower boomed.
¡®Vandercross, huh? Master will forgive my failure if I take word of you to him. You may be a typical smug Elf, so sure of your victory, but my soul will be safe once it returns to the phylactery by His side!¡¯ Doril thought to himself as he glared murder towards his impending doom.
Yet the beam never came.
¡°What is this, some kind of joke? Are you truly a brother? Did the Lich King send you to test me?¡± Doril looked upward in confusion.
¡°Me, a servant of the Lich King? How pathetic do you think I am? No, I''m merely being considerate.¡± The mage smirked, and crossed his arms.
Doril looked around in a hurry, worried that whatever had silently eliminated his army was lurking nearby.
¡°Hello, Lich, we know all about your type, and your phy-lacteries.¡± A soft, angelic voice whispered from Doril''s blindspot.
A shiver ran down Doril''s spine, and fear gripped his being when a pair of golden violet hands gently squeezed his bony wrists, turning them into mush.
¡®Not possible. I am Undead, this reaction is simply not possible!¡¯ Doril rationalized to himself in an effort to forestall the inevitable.
Rainwater relentlessly bounced off his skull, and mud clung to his robes as the demoness clad in beauty shoved him to the ground.
¡°I am the spawn of darkness, His Majesty''s Hero. A warder of death and decay-¡± Doril said in prayer, fearful that if his foe could disrupt the flow of Death magic in the gargoyles, perhaps he was adept in soul magic too?!
¡°Augh!¡± Doril unconsciously yelled in pain as an unfamiliar combination of Light and Void slowly entered his system.
¡°How, how are you causing me-a being without nerves-pain!¡± Doril begged. Even though he was on the verge of demise, the scholar in him was pushing him to seek answers.
¡°It''s magic.¡± Vandercross said with a mocking smile as he came near.
Doril glared with an overwhelming sense of loathing at the Elf. Never before had he hated someone so much.
¡°That''s good, I''ll have to use that one the next time a mage asks a stupid question.¡± The demoness laughed at Vandercross''s crass joke.
¡°Right? As if we would tell an enemy our secrets when he''s on the verge of death.¡± Vandercross chuckled, and smiled down at Doril.
¡®That¡¯s right, keep talking.¡¯ Doril thought to himself.
A contingent of ghouls was investigating the scene of the battle. If they came a little closer, they would be in range for Doril to absorb.
With that boosted mana, he could kill them in surprise!
¡°Preposterous, I am a student of Kel¡¯Thuzad! The leader and progenitor of the Cult of the Damned taught me well, and I am a scholar more interested in studying the pursuits of magic, then some mundane conflict.¡± Doril said naughtily.
Vandercross had a look of interest when Doril had mentioned his master''s name.
¡®That¡¯s it, take the bait.¡¯ Doril internally smirked.
¡°You seem to be under the impression that I don''t know who Kel¡¯Thuzad is. Or that I am unaware of those ghouls edging closer from the side.¡± Vandercross laughed once more.
¡°Surely you are interested in my knowledge! I can share with you-¡± Doril got out before he was interrupted by a glowing fist.
The last thing he saw before his demise was a pair of smug grins, and incredulously raised eyebrows.
¡°Monsters.¡± Doril gasped before he turned into a pile of ash.
~~~~~~~
Varrus clucked his tongue when he looked down at the ashes. What an idiot.
Stalling by talking was such a classic maneuver.
Sure, Varrus was interested in Kel¡¯Thuzad, but it was unlikely a Lich of all things would turn traitor. The cultists who worshiped the Lich King were certifiably bonkers, and could not be trusted.
Fortunately, Varrus had his Soul Cloak ability running this entire time, and the Grand Soul Gem in his inventory suggested that the Lich would not be reviving via phylactery.
While the Skyrim soul gems didn''t 100% take a person''s soul, they took away the essence of the deceased. After observing the Undead, Varrus discovered that this essence included whatever forces were binding a soul to the mortal plane. In effect, his soul gems forced any lingering spirits to move on to the afterlife.
Whilst Varrus marveled at his newest acquisition, Syra was posing in victory, like some sort of video game character after they had won a match.
¡°I win!¡± Syra ran into Varrus''s arms, and snuggled up to him.
¡°No arguments here. Although, technically, I took out both the gargoyles, which are kind of like a pseudo-Hero if you think about it. So really, I might have more points than you~¡± Varrus teased.
¡°I. Won.¡± Syra glared up at him, and tightly embraced his ribs.
Varrus weakly smiled in return. It was easy to forget sometimes how obsessed Syra was with victory.
¡°Yes, yes, my lovable wife has won.¡± Varrus patted her on the head.
¡°Mhm! That means you can''t be mad at me for splitting up earlier!¡± Syra merrily declared.
Varrus held up a finger to disagree, then slowly lowered it.
¡®That crafty minx! She was the one who suggested this little game of theirs in the first place! Was this her goal all along?!¡¯ Varrus thought to himself.
He was about to respond, when he got a message on his scrying orb. It came from Rho''dan, and was marked urgent.
[Highlord, the gatehouse, and three city walls have been breached. We are holding out in the keep.]
Varrus raised his eyebrows in shocked surprise. This development was worrisome.
[Status report, who is the enemy leader, how many men do you still have?]
A picture of a beautiful, Undead Night Elf came across the screen with a name.
General Nightsong.
[Casualties are minimal. The General has taken half the garrison prisoner, and only a few dozen have perished. Sir, you''ll need to hurry, we are on the verge of defeat.]
[I''m on my way.]
Varrus was about to put away his scrying orb, when Syra stopped him.
¡°I read her journal. General Natalia Nightsong. Her journey was my inspiration during the Orc War. I wouldn''t have learned about the Void if it weren''t for her notes!¡± Syra said in excitement.
¡°Well, I''m sorry that she was your Hero, but we have to take her down.¡± Varrus slowly replied, worried that Syra might take it the wrong way.
Syra flashed Varrus a¡nervous smile?!
¡°Yeah. We''ve got this.¡± Syra said in a quiet voice, then suddenly hugged Varrus from behind.
Varrus stood still, and let Syra nuzzle her head into his backside.
¡°We''re a team, Syra. Nothing can stand against House Vandercross!¡± Varrus raised his fist, and shouted in an attempt to cheer Syra up.
¡°Let''s win.¡± Syra said, regaining some of her energy.
Varrus clunked his forehead into hers, and silently stared her in the eyes. He held her close for another 20 seconds, then pulled away after a quick peck on her cheek.
Syra tightly gripped his hand, and they began running towards the siegeline.
The final battle for Tranquillien was swiftly approaching.
Chapter 88
After slaying the Lich, Varrus and Syra advanced with little resistance.
A few Elite necromancers attempted to rally the few remaining skeletons holding the flank, but it proved to be a fruitless effort.
Varrus''s spell, Infinite Light, was simply too strong against the Undead.
The beam attack diffracted between the Undead, like chain lightning, and transformed any Common tier Scourge soldier into ash within 1-5 seconds of contact.
And for those dozen or so ghouls that managed to slip past his offense? Well, they were met with a couple feet of cold steel!
Any being that came within a 20ft radius of them was transformed into minced meat. Syra''s control over her insane speed was beginning to become more precise the more she experienced high level combat.
From Varrus''s POV, even he, with his increased Stamina/Agility, and Elven Grace racial trait, had some difficulty keeping up with her.
With Syra acting as his protector, Varrus was free to keep channeling the Master tier Restoration magic nigh indefinitely.
It was only when the Elite necromancers raised a wall of frost that Varrus was forced to swap to a fire spell, but this barely caused a blip in his advance, and melted after dropping Forbidden Sun on top of their heads.
During their offensive, they had finally drawn near the destroyed gatehouse after half an hour of destroying thousands of trash mobs, and were met with the final dregs of Common skeletons. After this, they would be facing off against their resurrected kin, the Darkfallen.
¡°Ruargh!¡± A 10ft tall patchwork amalgamation of flesh and bone-otherwise known as an abomination-charged towards them.
Varrus calmly replied with Infinite Light, but the abomination kept charging, regardless of the crispification of its skin.
Raising an eyebrow, Varrus was impressed by the tankiness of this creation. At this rate, it would take 20-30 seconds for him to destroy the abomination with this spell. If the Lich from earlier had mobbed him with this, then perhaps he would have been much more troublesome to deal with.
Rushing forth from his side, Syra cleaved off an arm here, and a leg there, ultimately leaving the creature on the ground to writhe. Its neck stretched, and huge molars bit into the ground in a desperate attempt to move towards them, as if it still had a fighting chance.
¡°It''s kind of cute.¡± Syra said, poking the abomination¡¯s head with her sword, like a kid might poke something with a stick.
¡°Just end its misery, we have to reinforce Rho''dan..¡± Varrus rolled his eyes.
¡°What? I thought we had time to play around, I mean, the Tower of Jenga? Really? You introduced that game with the blocks to me a few nights ago. You said such a thing to that terrified Lich with such a serious face!¡± Syra smiled.
¡°It looked cool though, right?¡±
He had stacked the spell Raise Wall, and created a tower out of it. From Varrus''s perspective, that was a pretty innovative use of magic!
¡°Ruagh!¡± The abomination snarled as it bit into the soil, in an attempt to drag itself closer to them.
¡°Shh, you''re not involved in this.¡± Varrus rolled the abomination backward with a quick application of telekinesis.
¡°As long as you''re happy, I''m happy.¡± Syra planted a kiss on Varrus''s cheek.
¡°Very cute, but whilst you two are flirting, the city is falling.¡± A familiar voice called from behind. Her voice was accompanied by the sound of high heels forcefully strutting, and a pair of hands slow clapping.
¡°Faedra.¡± Varrus twirled around, only to see the Mistress of Murder stride right past him, and move towards the ruined gatehouse.
¡°Well?¡± Faedra arched an eyebrow at them, and paused.
Syra frowned at Faedra''s arrival, and completely obliterated the abomination with a Void attack. The mountain of mangled flesh turned into a puddle of viscous purple goo once she withdrew her sword from its head.
¡°You''ve skipped out on the war against the Amani, avoided the battle against the former Convocation, and now you want to show your face on the battlefield?¡± Varrus questioned.
The master rogue standing before him seemed allergic to direct confrontations. Something wasn''t adding up.
¡°Oh, I''m not here to fight darling. Come now, or we''ll be late. I have a meeting with an old friend.¡± Faedra glanced back at Syra, then strutted forward, deeper into Tranquillien.
Varrus saw that Syra was gripping the handle of her buster sword so tight, that her knuckles were white.
¡°Want to talk about it?¡± Varrus whispered under a hastily cast shroud of Muffle.
¡°No, she''s right, we''ve wasted enough time.¡± Syra said, then brusquely followed after her mother.
¡®Ah yes, daughters hating their mothers, a tale as old as time.¡¯ Varrus''s eyelid twitched as he realized that even a fantasy world away, there were some things that would always stay the same.
Catching up to the two most troublesome women in his life, Varrus was surprised to see Darkfallen flying the flag of Quel''Thalas.
The crimson banner flapped, and drew his attention to a group of thousands of imprisoned Highborn. A few corpses had been collected, and covered in sheets to the side, but from what Varrus could see, casualties were low.
Among the prisoners, Varrus noticed several Heroes. Thaladred, and Syra''s groupies-the Illidari Council-were bound in mana suppressing cuffs, and chained up.
¡°What is going on?¡± Varrus wearily asked, as if he would be ambushed at any second.
¡°Civilization. It is an uncommon practice for Elves to openly murder one another in such a wanton style.¡± Faedra glanced at Varrus with a disparaging look, then confidently strode up to a pair of Darkfallen standing guard.
¡°It''s the Vandercross boy!¡± One guard loudly proclaimed, and pointed in recognition at Varrus.
¡°Shut UP. You don''t want him to sing at us, do you?!¡± The other guard hissed.
¡°Good point, those plays were simply dreadful, almost makes me wish I had stayed dead.¡± The guard muttered to his companion in a hushed voice that was still clearly audible to Varrus. ¡°Please! Please, carry on! The General is expecting you, Lady Faedra.¡± The same guard then ushered them through in a hurry. If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.
¡°As you can see, not all of the Darkfallen have pledged themselves to Lana''thel. One of my agents-someone raised into undeath himself-initiated correspondence between the General and I once he regained free will.¡± Faedra explained as if the current series of events were extremely unsurprising.
¡°And you decided to keep this information to yourself?¡± Varrus barely held back from replying in a seething cold rage, and kept his tone distinctly neutral/deadpan.
All the same, Varrus saw the hint of a smirk on the edge of her lips.
¡®Bitch.¡¯ Varrus thought to himself.
¡°Sorry dear, but this was a developing situation. It wasn''t until I witnessed with my own eyes that prisoners were being taken alive, that I was certain my agent''s claims of an amicable General Nightsong were proven true. You wouldn''t want me to sell you false information, now, would you?¡± Faedra said over her shoulder, and spoke in a demeaning tone, as if she were explaining things to a five year old.
Varrus felt a vein throb on his forehead, then took a deep breath.
¡°Fine, you''ve been helpful thus far, pointing me in the direction of the traitors, and info regarding the Kobolds. What sage advice can you provide regarding Nightsong?¡± Varrus rubbed his forehead, and put aside his anger in favor of learning about this enigmatic figure.
¡°Some say she was put down for sowing the seeds of rebellion. Others that she was slaughtered by both the King and Convocation for losing her mind to the Void. Others even whisper it was me. All lies, of course. As to her true fate? Why, I wouldn''t want to spoil the surprise.¡± Faedra chuckled as they had left the confines of the city proper, and had entered a wide open square just in front of the keep.
Highborn and Darkfallen lined the sides of the square, and were busy cheering on two combatants.
Many of them were chanting ¡°Quel¡¯Dorah¡±, the word signifying a duel in Thalassian literature. Just a few months ago, Syra had dueled Thaladred to such shouts, helping him establish Varrus''s legitimacy in the eyes of the wise.
That got Varrus thinking, just what was at stake here?
Within the square, a crimson haired man dressed in crimson thorium armor was matching swords with a beautiful purple-pale lady dressed in black adamantium plate.
It was Rho''dan vs Nightsong.
Rho''dan was on the back foot, and was being pressed.
His sword lit up with a fire enchantment, and he plunged it into the ground, creating a ring of fire in an attempt to get some space.
Nightsong¡¯s sword took on a midnight black hue, and cut through the flames coming her way.
She prowled forth like an alpha lioness on the hunt.
Her every step exuded confidence, yet she moved with a floaty lightness, that every step seemed unreal, almost otherworldly.
Whatever technique or magical buff she had going, it was surreal. He almost wanted to say that what he was witnessing was an illusion. It was like when browsing the internet, and coming across something uncanny. The brain told you that something just wasn''t right.
Varrus had encountered many strange things, and odd occurrences, but this was the first time he had seen something so queer.
Unknowingly, he felt his pulse begin to quicken as he viewed her with his Mana Sight. The unique mana signature Nightsong was emitting wasn''t overwhelming like his father¡¯s, it wasn''t stable/unmovable like Rho''dan¡¯s, nor was it a combo of soft/hard like Syra¡¯s. It was something alien, like a scientist clinically assessing a specimen under the microscope.
At first, Varrus had thought that Nightsong was playing with Rho''dan, her skills clearly marked her as being a tier above him. Yet instead, as she advanced, and poked and prodded at him, Varrus realized that she was deconstructing Rho''dan¡¯s fighting methodology. That she was learning from him in real time, and countering him as they fought!
¡°Frightening, isn''t she? I based Syra¡¯s training off of this style, but there truly is nothing like watching the original.¡± Faedra idly commented.
¡°She¡¯s beautiful.¡± Syra tightly gripped onto Varrus¡¯s arm, and whispered, wide-eyed like a girl that had seen their idol for the first time.
Varrus didn''t dare agree with her openly, but internally, he had to agree.
The fluidity, and grace with which Nightsong moved was unmatched. If he compared her to Syra, then his wife was a B+ compared to a solid A. It wasn''t that big of a gap on paper, but in a fight, such a difference was huge.
After five minutes of watching Rho''dan get pummeled, and beaten back, the stalwart guardian was finally brought to his knees, and had a sword placed at his chin.
¡°Yield, and be recognized as a valiant Hero. There is no shame in defeat, all I ask is that all recognize my claim to Tranquillien by right of Quel''Dorah. All your Heroes have been bested in fair one on one combat. Yield, and I shall grant mercy.¡± Nightsong addressed not only Rho''dan, but the crowd of Highborn that were watching from the sides.
Her voice was strong, yet not overbearing. Commanding, yet merciful. Charming, yet forthright.
Nightsong''s posture screamed confidence, and conveyed a level of sincerity Varrus had thought not possible amongst the Highborn.
She was, dare he say, charismatic.
He was beginning to see why Syra looked up to her. Hell, if Nightsong was the one holding down Silvermoon, he wouldn¡¯t have minded following her. He only became a leader because he had to get Kael in check, and wanted to elevate the Blood Elves onto the world stage.
¡°Not all Heroes have been defeated, there is another.¡± Rho''dan slowly spoke from his kneeled position, and nodded towards Varrus.
Nightsong turned around, and appraised both Varrus and Syra, then narrowed her eyes when she saw Faedra.
¡°So you are the two who had destroyed the ziggurat, and slain the Lich, Doril Magefont. Such actions are deserving of praise. Please, join my ranks, and together, we can purge Quel''Thalas of corruption. Both from within, and without.¡± Nightsong sheathed her sword, and held out a welcoming hand.
Syra squeezed Varrus''s arm, and peaked over his shoulder when Nightsong addressed them.
¡°Yes, I am Varrus, and this is my wife, Syra. Thank you for the offer, General, but I like my chances.¡± Varrus dragged Syra in front of him, much to her embarrassment if her 1-second scowl at him, and beat red face were anything to go by.
¡°Varrus.¡± Nightsong spoke, as if she was tasting the word. A contemplative look spread across her face.
¡°The seed of Vandercross has done well, accomplishing such a feat. He and my daughter are quite the couple, wouldn¡¯t you say?¡± Faedra interjected herself in the conversation. Her haughty tone, and curled eyebrow seemed intent on one upping Nightsong.
Varrus wanted to slap his forehead. If he was reading this right, this old friend of Faedra''s was likely no friend at all. In his experience, no one could hold a grudge like a spiteful woman. Add immortality to the mix, and boy oh boy, what a clusterfuck!
¡°The seed of Vandercross, and the spawn of Greathollow¡¡± Nightsong glanced between Varrus and Syra with a frown, then glared at Faedra.
¡°Rho''dan, explain.¡± Nightsong turned to the still kneeling chief guard, her dark eyes bore into the redhead, demanding an answer.
Rho''dan raised his head, seemingly inviting the stroke of a blade, rather than revealing the truth.
Varrus didn¡¯t know why Nightsong had turned to Rho¡¯dan of all people, but he wasn¡¯t going to let his closest companion remain threatened like that. He drew his sword when he saw this sudden turn of events. He said no words, yet his actions conveyed his intent. Should Nightsong make a move, so would Varrus.
¡°You would attack me?¡± Nightsong glanced at Varrus in disbelief.
¡°Rho''dan has been loyal to me for as long as I can remember. When others laughed, and jeered, he was always there. I won''t abandon him.¡± Varrus stated resolutely, then pointed his blade at Nightsong.
¡°So the seed of Vandercross at least knows loyalty. That''s good.¡± Nightsong said aloud to herself.
¡°Very well, I accept your challenge. Quel''Dorah.¡± Nightsong nodded in reply, and unsheathed her blade as well.
Syra clutched at Varrus''s arm, and drew him in for a wet kiss on the lips.
¡°Win.¡± She said in a hushed whisper, and stared him in the eye before pulling away.
Varrus nodded.
From what he saw in her fight against Rho''dan, the General hadn''t gone all out, so there were still things that could surprise him. However, winning here would be huge. There were maybe 30,000-60,000 Darkfallen in this army. If he defeated Nightsong, maybe they would fall in line?!
Such thinking was a powerful motivation for this upcoming duel.
Taking a deep breath, Varrus mentally prepared himself to face a monster.
Chapter 89
Before the duel officially commenced, Varrus cast Call to Arms on himself, so that the various Illusion perks would buff him up.
Call to Arms gives a 25-point boost to one-handed, two-handed, archery, health, and stamina for ten minutes.
With the aforementioned boosts, Call to Arms was enhanced by a (12.5+25+50) = 87.5 buff lasting twenty minutes due to Illusion Mastery.
In total, the Illusion buffs increased:
160 Armor
40% magic resistance
50% more powerful Illusion spells + 50pts
140% attack damage increase
40% crit chance increase
Plus, his One Handed skill, which was resting at 62, temporarily raised to 149.5. Which not only improved his real life ability, but also increased the damage of any one handed weapon by a flat 45.
Swiping his sword left and right, Varrus felt the sudden influx of skill, and instantly corrected his stance, realizing that he had been too rigid with his first swipe.
Nodding to himself, Varrus started to make a plan of attack. From what he saw with her battle against Rho''dan, Nightsong was supremely skilled, and seemed to like to take her time with her opponent. To analyze them.
If Varrus was to win, he couldn''t strictly stick to one form of combat. Fortunately, he had many different skill sets, and could swap between them on the fly.
Otherwise, if he stuck strictly to using a sword, his demise was guaranteed. He had noticed during the previous duel, that Rho''dan''s sword was beginning to chip. Nightsong¡¯s adamantium weapon and armor were no joke, when her sword met Rho''dan''s, it was the equivalent of steel meeting copper. Eventually, the copper would lose out.
However, Varrus had a few tricks up his sleeve to mitigate this difference between thorium and adamantium. Various perks enhanced the damage of his weapon, and by conducting some tests, damage and durability seemed to go hand in hand.
His thorium sword after being forged and reforged under his Master tier Smithing, had a listed damage of 657. That was strong enough to cut through masterworked iron armor like a hot knife through butter.
Then he had his various buffs:
One Handed Mastery: 50% dmg increase
Flame of Magnus: While casting/concentrating a staff, damage/crit in right hand increased by 50%.
Secretkeeper - When a staff is equipped in your left hand, your attacks deal 25% more damage and critical damage. When a staff is equipped in your right hand, your spells and scrolls are 25% more effective.
Furious Strength: Power Attacks 15% + 1% of stamina = 21% dmg increase
Overrun - Can perform a one-handed sprinting power attack that deals up to 50% more damage and critical damage to a target above half Health.
Applying all these bonuses together, Varrus would be swinging with a weapon of (702)¡Á(248%) = 1740.96 dmg.
For reference, a full set of masterworked thorium armor granted an armor score of 2,048, whereas mythril, the next tier down, was at 1,300.
With such an awesome increase in weapon damage, Varrus was confident that his blade would not chip, like Rho''dan''s.
Finally, he equipped a staff in his left hand so that some of the perks could go into effect. It was a staff of flames, capable of shooting fire like a flamethrower.
¡°Quel''Dorah!¡± The people chanted, shaking the square.
During their cheers, Varrus noted that the Rune Stone had lit up, and created a concentrated barrier separating him and Nightsong from the citizenry.
Varrus nodded in appreciation towards Telonicus, this move ensured that no innocents would get caught up in the crossfire. Although it would appear that he was locked in here with Nightsong, now that a barrier was in place, he felt like he could unleash his Master tier spells with impunity.
Pointing his sword at Nightsong, Varrus''s Ebony Flesh automatically activated, and battle commenced.
He planned on starting the fight with melee, so that he could get close, and activate the Nullifier perk, which prevented foes within 25 feet from regenerating mana or stamina. Once she was tapped out, he would swap combat styles, and take her out from a distance.
Engaging in melee was the last thing he wanted to do, but achieving victory was more important than anything else!
Whilst Varrus was mentally preparing himself, the ancient general walked towards Varrus like some final boss out of a souls-like video game. She was moving in a combo of levitation + footsteps that threw Varrus''s rhythm off. The way she moved made it difficult to discern where her next step would be.
Tossing out a Tumble Magnet when she got close, Varrus intended to throw her off balance, and strike at the same time.
As soon as the orb left his hand, Nightsong slightly stumbled between steps, and Varrus struck.
His sword stabbed forward in a lunge, aiming to pierce the exposed section of her arm that wasn''t covered by armor.
Nightsong recovered her balance, and turned sideways to dodge, floating just an inch out of range.
Varrus smirked as the attack was nothing but a feint. His real objective was her thigh!
The heavy stab transitioned into a cut heading downward.
Nightsong surprised Varrus by kicking with her armored boot. She stomped down on the blade, then crushed Varrus''s chest with her shield. A dark colored enchantment lit up on the shield, and Varrus felt his mana decrease!
Checking his status, Varrus realized he was cursed! [Stamina + Mana reduced 10%]
Varrus didn''t have time to cast Dispel Magic, as Nightsong continued with her attack, swiping sideways at his head.
Deciding he didn''t want to rely solely on Ebony Flesh, Varrus attempted to Blink away, and reorient himself. However, her shield glowed black once more, and he found that he couldn''t teleport!
Realizing he couldn''t escape, Varrus twisted his body, and raised his sword to meet hers.
Metal shrieked, and the light of a fire enchantment clashed with the darkness attribute coming from her sword. Varrus noticed he had a slight upper hand in power, however, several cuts to the periphery of his Ebony Flesh showed that she outskilled him, and possessed superior speed.
As if to mock him, the Skyrim UI repeatedly dinged, indicating his One Handed skill was leveling up every time Nightsong showed him something new.
Furthermore, she nodded along every time Varrus learnt how to block, or parry one of her attacks!
Varrus felt embarrassed that he was being taught whilst he fought the enemy, yet he also felt gratitude. The more he clashed with her, the more he wanted her on his side. Someone like General Nightsong, who treated prisoners fairly, and led tens of thousands of Darkfallen was respectable. Because he had seen what becoming an Undead did to most people. Their inhibitions became unlocked, and many turned suicidal, or into monsters. Nightsong and her army, they were sane! This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.
However, although he respected her for teaching him, and her modus operandi, that didn''t mean he was willing to submit!
Side rolling a shield bash, Varrus realized she had downloaded his fighting style, and that it was time to move on to phase 2 of his plan.
Charging forward for another power attack, Varrus activated the perk Spellscribe, which allowed him to unleash a stored spell when he did a power attack with his weapon. It was not applicable to Master tier spells, but that didn''t mean it was a weak ability!
This time, when his sword clashed with hers, the spell Incendiary Flow erupted from nearly point blank range.
Lava gushed out of Varrus''s blade, and threatened to engulf Nightsong.
She interposed her shield between them, and a full body barrier encased her being, protecting her from the Incendiary Flow.
¡®Chance!¡¯
Varrus saw this slight delay, and knew he had to seize the initiative.
Clapping his sword and staff together, he activated the Enchanting perk, You Shall Not Pass, which created a blinding light.
He then immediately jumped backwards, and activated two more perks, this time under the Sneak skill tree. Smokescreen and Clean Escape created a thick cloud of fog, and completely eliminated Varrus''s presence, making any tracking methods useless.
Running to the side, Varrus cast Shroudwalk, making himself invisible.
Nightsong was no amateur though, and had not remained still whilst Varrus acted. She swiped her sword down where Varrus had been standing a second ago, creating a furrow in the ground.
Within the fog, Varrus saw her clear as day, thanks to both his Mana Sight, and Detect Life spells. He was preparing to snipe her with an Ice Shiv, when suddenly, both of his tracking skills no longer worked!
Blinking his eyes, Varrus found that the two abilities still detected Highborn outside of the Rune Stone''s barrier, however, he could no longer spot Nightsong!
¡®She must have gone to the same rogue school as Faedra.¡¯ Varrus bitterly thought to himself as the ace in the sleeve he had prepared turned out to be a bust.
Narrowing his eyes, Varrus had an evil grin spread across his face as he activated Warriors Flame.
Just because he couldn''t see something, didn''t mean it wasn''t there! If he couldn''t see her, then perhaps the Skyrim UI would!
A moment later, he heard the distinct crackle of fire, but he couldn''t see it!
Turning his head to the side, Varrus saw a golden light surrounding Nightsong.
The ancient general was 5ft behind him, and was staring at the exact spot where Varrus was hiding.
She was just standing there. Menacingly!
Varrus scrambled backwards, expecting an attack that never came.
Taking a closer look, Varrus noticed that Warriors Flame didn''t seem to be damaging her at all!
The pale woman smiled at Varrus, making him tilt his head to the side in confusion. Just what was her game?
Nightsong opened her mouth, and began to chant a spell. However, to Varrus''s ears, it sounded more like a song.
The beauty in her voice thrummed with power. Yet it possessed an ethereal quality that made one hungering for more. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T19_-ycPYjk
Upon hearing her voice, Varrus unconsciously felt tears dripping down his face, as it evoked memories of home. Playing games, old friends, hot chocolate on a cold day, or pancakes made lovingly by his mother.
¡°I know this song.¡± Varrus found himself unconsciously whispering.
The foggy shroud was lifted, and a bountiful stream of Life energy surrounded Nightsong.
Outside the barrier, all the Highborn were brought to tears. Even the most stalwart, such as Rho''dan, or exceptionally nerdy, like Telonicus were silent as salty water dripped down their cheeks.
Varrus not only remembered his past on Earth, but of Warcraft. Of failed plays, and disingenuous fans. Of his supporting, yet distant father, of one adoring fan too shy to speak to him. Of this very song bringing him to sleep as a child.
Lowering his sword, Varrus took in the woman before him as a realization struck him.
¡°You are my Mother?¡± Varrus said aloud in confusion.
Varrus chuckled when he saw Nightsong maintain her somewhat aloof, and confident posture as she slightly nodded at him in confirmation.
He wanted to cling to his memories of Earth, yet the pure smile of acceptance Nightsong directed at him was like a suckerpunch to the heart.
Thinking of his wife, and how her strength was what kept him going in this fucked up death world, Varrus decided he would tentatively accept Nightsong into his life.
Furthermore, there was some comedic value to this outcome. It would seem that Syra was not only obsessed with him, but with his mother as well!
He wiped the tears from his eyes, and began to belly laugh at this turn of events.
For a bonus laugh, Faedra was jealous of this woman! Nightsong was everything she wasn''t: kind, strong of character, and popular!
It all made sense why they had been so catty upon their first meeting, and why Nightsong seemed so opposed to the ¡®seed of Vandercross¡¯ being wed to ¡®Faedra''s daughter.¡¯
Thinking about it further, he realized that he might have jumped the gun challenging her to a duel. When he replayed their first encounter in his mind, it seemed that she was surprised he had challenged her in the first place.
No wonder their fight had seemed almost like a spar, and that she had questioned Rho''dan. In fact, Rho''dan, that sly bastard knew all along, but had remained silent!
Varrus shot a glare Rho''dan''s way, and saw that his chief guard was conspicuously turned to the side, however, Varrus caught the side view of a grin on his face!
¡®Tch.¡¯ Varrus shook his head. He''d see that Rho''dan got what he was coming to him for this stunt. Shoveling hawkstrider shit for a start!
It was during his inner monologue, that Nightsong approached him. She seemed a little awkward, and maybe even nervous, but that only made her more endearing.
When she stood silently in front of him, she stared at him curiously. She then cast a shroud of Muffle to cover them.
¡°I haven''t seen you since you were 3 years old. You have grown into a fine young man, Varrus.¡± Nightsong complimented, and reached out a hand, yet stopped just short of stroking Varrus''s cheek.
¡°Forgive me if I don''t call you mother, Nightsong, it would be strange for me, given the circumstances. If you don''t mind me asking, what happened to you?¡± Varrus enquired.
Nightsong looked off into the distance, a sad look briefly fell upon her face, then she turned back to Varrus, all business.
¡°You are familiar with the Red and Blue Dragonflights, as they enjoy masquerading as members of the Highborn. However, are you aware of the Bronze Dragonflight?¡± Nightsong answered Varrus''s question with one of her own.
¡°The self professed keepers of time, I am aware.¡± Varrus replied, not liking where this was going.
¡°The very same. My existence, as well as yours, was deemed anathema to the ¡®proper¡¯ timeline. A Dragon named Chromie alongside an army of adventurers from the future emerged from a portal with the intent of slaying both you and me. I could have survived, yet they were moments away from claiming you. I did what any mother would do in such a situation, and faked your death at the expense of mine.¡±
Varrus closed his eyes as he imagined the scene. Of portals suddenly opening up, and loot hungry adventurers greedily throwing themselves at Nightsong for everything she was worth. Of the Bronze Dragon, Chromie, cheering them on in her annoying, polymorphed Gnomish voice for saving Azeroth.
Chromie:
It really made Varrus wonder how many people the Bronze Dragonflight had murdered in the name of saving the world.
¡°Thank you for telling me, and thank you for your sacrifice. But if you were on our side this entire time, how come you didn''t destroy the Lich, Magefont, or orchestrate a rebellion against Tenris? He is marching straight for Eversong as we speak!¡± Varrus said, thankful for Nightsong''s help, yet he was also befuddled at her seeming inaction.
¡°I intended to destroy the Lich with the combined forces of the Darkfallen, and the defenders of Tranquillien. As for defectors from within, why do you think the Mistress of Murder is present?¡± Nightsong smiled at Varrus knowingly.
Varrus nodded, he supposed her presence made sense.
¡°So, what are we waiting for, let''s reinforce Kael¡¯Thas, and assault Tenris''s flank!¡± Varrus proclaimed with gusto.
~~~~~~~
¡°My, how energetic. Vandercross raised such a boy?¡± Nightsong muttered to herself, and took a longing look at Varrus''s back as he signaled for the barrier to be dropped.
¡°Mother-in-law! Mother-in-law!¡± A busty blonde excitedly ran up to Nightsong with a pad of paper, and a pen in hand.
¡°I don''t do autographs.¡± Nightsong patiently explained, and followed after Varrus, curious to see his leadership style.
Syra pouted when Nightsong walked off, she glanced at her back, and narrowed her eyes.
Intense emotions warred within her heart. On one hand, she wanted to question the woman she had based her entire fighting style off of. To learn from the best! On the other hand, she felt threatened that another woman would be eating away at Varrus''s attention, and that was unacceptable.
Holding her diary in her hand, Syra bit her lip as she ultimately pulled a flower out from its pages. However, she was quick to draw one where it had rested as a placeholder.
Varrus belonged to her, and she belonged to Varrus. No one would get between their love.
Chapter 90
Standing amongst a crowd of Heroes and Elites, Kael surveyed the lands that he had prepared for the enemy.
Situated between two hills, the Sunfury positioned themselves at the only bridge linking both Eversong, and the Ghostlands.
40,000 Elves initially set out on this expedition, and had swelled to over 110,000 during the campaign. Highborn hungry for revenge had crawled out of smoldering ruins, and the hinterlands, eager to mete out death and destruction to the Scourge.
Sunsail Anchorage, the major port town, and fourth largest city in Quel''Thalas remained untarnished, and had an initial population of over 60,000 before the attack. Many of the Elves in nearby villages witnessed the horrors taking place on the horizon, and had taken Sunsail Anchorage as a point of refuge during the Scourging of Silvermoon. As a result, that 60,000 had ballooned in size, nearly doubling in capacity to 117,000.
All these survivors attributed their good fortune to the swift recapture of Silvermoon, and King Kael¡¯Thas''s efforts to cleanse Eversong, boosting his credibility as well as the number of volunteers.
Recruitment numbers had risen tremendously, and Mana Stones were in high demand, leading to 20,000 more Elves to join the Sunfury to meet their mana addiction.
Additionally, the entire force of Arcane Golems had been stripped from Sunsail Anchorage, boosting the Sunfury''s force of autonomous weapons to over 5,000.
The 9ft tall beings clad in crimson armor made up the vanguard, and stood in a line, leaving 10ft gaps between one another. During the offensive to retake Eversong, Kael had learnt that this was one of the more effective ways to use the Arcane Golems, as this allowed room for spells and arrows to pass between them, and strike the enemy.
Furthermore, the choke point between the two hills was wide enough for only 1,000 golems to stand abreast like this. As such, a second row of golems formed the second line, whereas the remaining 3,000 golems were held in reserve on the left, and right flanks.
Anti-scrying wards had been placed upon them, and tarps meant to confuse aerial observers were tossed upon them in the hopes that the Arcane Golems in reserve would remain undiscovered until it was too late.
Standing behind the golems was a loose formation of paladins, and arcane warriors. Their battle formation was loose, this way they could dodge incoming arrows, and would not be clustered when the enemy dropped spells that affected a large area.
At the rear, where Kael was positioned, were all the mages and priests. Standing beside him, was a unit of 500 Elite Spellbreakers, and their leader, the Hero, Knight-Lord Dranarus. From their vantage, they could rain down fire upon their foe, or counter any magics that may threaten the main host. Dranarus served as the ultimate shield, and was responsible for reacting to any enemy incursion. Should a gap form in their line, or the Undead breakthrough, it was up to his #2 to hold the line.
In further preparation for the upcoming Scourge assault, 117 Arcane Cannons were placed upon the hills to the sides, and tens of thousands of rangers stood nearby, taking cover behind trees, or wearing cloaks of camouflage.
A constant supply of arrows, potions, and cannons had been produced within Silvermoon over the last two months on campaign, and had been of great help to Kael when it came to securing the coast from the Murloc menace.
His Elven ears were sensitive to the loud explosions created by cannons, yet he saw the necessity of such a creation when it was put to use. Many Highborn disparaged them, as Dwarven creations were looked down upon. However, mages who could match the kind of damage a cannon was capable of were relatively rare. Only Elites could match or exceed them. Effectively, this meant that every cannon was the equivalent to an Elite, but could be operated by one Common ranger. Plus, they were consistent, with a firing rate of one shot every 10 seconds, and could swap ammunition types between ice, fire, and arcane. The only hangup was their reliance on Mana Stones.
Lastly, Kael had two groups setting up on the other side of the bridge.
Kael had been inspired by Varrus''s exploding runes, and had mimicked this tactic. A detachment of rogues were hard at work planting enchanted objects in the soil that could be detonated upon chanting the proper spell.
The final force was composed of a few hundred hawkstrider knights. Acting as light cavalry, Kael had deployed them ahead of the army to delay and harass the Scourge forces whilst he finished up his defenses.
¡°Nervous?¡± Jan''alai slapped Kael on the shoulder, knocking him slightly forward.
¡°Hardly. Scouting reports claim that the enemy barely outnumbers us 2 to 1. For an Elf, those are good odds.¡± Kael replied with a confident smile.
¡°Aren''t the Scourge commanders made up of former Elves, won''t they know how you fight?¡± Jan''alai questioned with a fist resting on her chin.
¡°You need not worry yourself, Troll-friend, Your Majesty. The leader is the former Crown Prince, Tenris. He is well known to be hot headed, and over confident. He''ll march straight into us, like a lamb walking to slaughter.¡± Dranarus gossiped in a conspiratorial tone.
¡°Ohhh, one of Kael''s siblings? They must¡¯ve mocked you for being short, eh, Goldilocks?¡± Jan''alai grinned, and cracked her knuckles in anticipation.
¡°Actually, I''m quite average for a-¡±
¡°Ah! There they are! Let''s fight!¡± Jan''alai pointed at the horizon, and loudly exclaimed.
Kael rubbed his tired brow, and sighed. Stolen novel; please report.
Drawing Felo''melorn from its sheath, he pointed it dramatically at the enemy.
¡°Today we avenge ourselves, prepare for battle!¡± Kael''s magically enhanced voice booked across the field, eliciting cheers and battle cries.
Kael held the pose for a moment longer, and let the sunlight gleam off his blade.
¡°Kiier!¡± Al''ar screeched alongside him, reinforcing his image.
¡°You look very Kingly, Your Majesty.¡± Dranarus clapped.
Kael turned an eyebrow to Jan''alai.
¡°Very cute!¡± Jan''alai gave a double thumbs up.
¡®It had better. I practiced that one in the mirror for hours. How Varrus can bs his way through this nonsense, I''ll never know. It would be nice to stay at home, and read a good book, let someone else be the leader, but that ship has sailed. Watch out Tenris, I''m coming for you.¡¯ Kael crunched his hands into fists as he looked forward to the upcoming conflict.
A dark cloud of malaise slowly hovered forth, and hung above the Undead as they marched closer and closer. Moving in well disciplined ranks, the Scourge resembled nothing of the disorganized mob that Kael was accustomed to.
Something was different.
Checking his scrying orb, Kael looked for both updates, as well as taking a look himself.
[Report: Estimates of 1,000-3,000 Undead have attempted a river crossing on the western side. Our rangers have whittled them down by half, and we expect no more than 500 to make landfall. Standby.]
[Report: The eastern riverbank is all clear.]
Narrowing his eyes, Kael felt a little on edge. Come to think about it, it had been some time since he received a report from the hawkstrider knights.
This sense of unease seemed to spread through the ranks, and he picked up a few people muttering or shifting in place.
¡°Kuargh!¡± A massive Dragon so large it was impossible to miss, roared in the distance, magnifying this unease.
The roar, and pressure of massed Death energy on the horizon shook the confidence of the people.
Kael squared his shoulders, and took on a confident look. Channeling a smidgen of the Phoenix Song using Al''ar as a medium, bountiful Life energy spread throughout the army, bolstering their morale.
¡°Jan''alai, fly around the hills to the east, and see if you can spot any movement. If you spot so much as a pebble out of place, or a tree branch twitching for no reason, do not hesitate to blast it with fire. Something is wrong here, and I don''t like it.¡± Kael communicated in a hushed whisper.
Jan''alai held Kael''s eye, then nodded before transforming into her dragonhawk Loa form, and taking flight.
¡°You suspect foul play?¡± Dranarus questioned.
¡°This may be the only viable crossing, but as Varrus warned, Undead have no fear of drowning. This chokepoint is valuable, but if we were to be flanked, then this excellent defensive location would transform into a nightmare in the blink of an eye.
¡°It will all work out, my liege, the Ranger General, and his lieutenant are prepared for them.¡± Dranarus proclaimed with confidence.
¡°I hope that is so, Knight-Lord, something isn¡¯t right. We must be prepared for the unexpected, no plan is ironclad once battle has commenced.¡± Kael cautioned as he constantly scanned both the field, and his scrying orb for information.
Anything last minute info could mean the difference between victory, or defeat.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Tenris marched down the plains of the Ghostlands with a host numbering over 200,000 strong.
6,000 Elite abominations, and meat puppets- stolen from Magefont-acted as the Vanguard. They were so durable, and bulky, most Heroes could not slay them in a single strike.
Disease clouds constantly leaked from their exposed intestines. They were designed so that when they fell, or neared their demise, the gasses would explode, showering all nearby with a foul concoction of bony shrapnel, and acidic blood.
Bringing up the left wing was a force of Demons led by the Dreadlord, Dethecus. Tenris had promised the unnaturally pale minion of the Burning Legion unfettered access to the remains of the Sunwell upon victory. A promise he didn''t intend to keep, but the Demons were a welcome addition he was loath to fight without.
Reinforcing the center, 500 risen archmages and necromancers guided tens of thousands of ghouls, and skeletal warriors. They acted as the main force, and primary distraction in Tenris''s plans for victory. Whilst their very presence acted as fuel for his power, their loss was of no concern. There would always be more bodies. Death, after all, was inevitable.
On the right wing, a force of Death Knights, clad in blackened plate armor, and equipped with enchanted weapons formed the core of that army. Recently slain hawkstrider riders bolstered this force, swelling the ranks to 900 Elites. The arrogant Blood Elf knights had thought themselves too fast for Tenris.
They had underestimated him.
Lastly, he had sent out two forces to ford the river on the east and west.
On the east, a small detachment of rogues, and rangers specializing in stealth were deployed to sow chaos, and hint at a larger invasion force. They had false orders planted upon them, detailing Tenris''s ¡®strategy¡¯ of going all in on the east.
To make this false flag operation more believable, he sent out 6 of the quasi-Hero tier gargoyles, along with a swarm of 1,000 Common gargoyles to attack that position, and distract the enemy 20 minutes after the vanguard of abominations made contact on the front lines.
It would be an annoying loss of manpower all around, but it would be well worth it.
Because in reality, Tenris planned on destroying the Sunfury from the west!
He sent a sizable, yet ultimately worthless amount of fodder to the west as an initial vanguard. It was all to lull the boy-king into a false sense of security. In reality, the western front was where he had placed the majority of his Heroes! If they were caught, it would be a huge loss, as the enemy could simply reposition their forces, however, Tenris was well aware of his reputation as an arrogant hot head. No one would suspect this ¡®weak¡¯ easily defeatable group to house his most experienced combatants, nor would they expect the majority of his Elite Darkfallen to be hiding behind the initial wave of fodder!
The former Crown Prince smirked to himself from atop the back of his mount as it was all coming together.
Roaring to the heavens, the colossal Black Dragon belched toxic green flames, and heralded his arrival.
As if to mock him, a Phoenix Song that was exclusive to the leader of House Sunstrider rang back. Life energy spilled across onto the Ghostlands, and some of the lesser Undead smoldered, or collapsed into ash under its pressure.
Tenris frowned, and gripped at a protruding horn on the Dragon''s back in consternation.
Already, he could see the questioning looks, and sly glances coming from his commanders.
They expected a response. For him to reply in outrage, and overreact to this slight. They thought they could use him! Hah! If they wanted a response¡
Then a response they shall have!
¡°Fae''El Sal''ah''dorei
Fae''Suun Sal''ah''benshadah¡± Tenris chanted, pulling upon the vast amounts of Death energy in the air.
Black bolts of lightning crackled on his open palm. They shifted, and swirled, till they formed an orb.
¡°Fae''El Sal''ah''dorei
Fae''Suun Sal''ah''benshadah!¡± Tenris''s voice took on an unholy timbre. The tormented wails of ghosts joined him, and from a pendant on his chest, 1,000 souls were sucked into the spell forming in his hand.
¡°By all that is Unholy, I command you: Break!¡±
The swirling mass of black lightning cackled with the souls of the damned, and made a sound of glass shattering.
Twisting like a worm wriggling for escape, the black bolts left Tenris''s palm one by one, until 100 black beams descended upon the Sunfury.
The majority of the bolts went straight for Kael, and the backline, which were blocked, or dispelled by Kael¡¯Thas and his Spellbreakers. However, that was never really Tenris''s target. As 30 of them got through the defense, and struck a target on the western flank, killing a mage, or destroying a cannon.
Tenris felt the disappointed looks on his back, but he paid those witless fools no heed. They had no clue as to his western offensive, and would soon kneel to him in supplication after they achieved victory.
The battle had truly begun. Tenris was eager to see how his younger half-brother would respond. Because he wanted to see what their father had seen in Kael¡¯Thas over him. To see what dreams that cruel old man had, and to crush them in the palm of his hand.
Tenris allowed himself a feral grin. By the end of today, there would only be one King Sunstrider left standing!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Read 25 chapters ahead at pa t reon: KarpQQ
Chapter 91
Within minutes of the Scourge army''s arrival, battle had commenced.
Terrifying, 8-10ft tall abominations lumbered forth. Their speed was unimpressive, yet they more than made up for it with their extreme endurance.
Elven archers aimed mana enhanced, Arcane Arrows with incredible accuracy, exploding eyes, and taking out limbs. Yet it took 5 arrows to the knee to bring one abomination to the ground.
Necromancers chanted their spells, reanimating any fallen abomination, and reinforcing their skin to be tougher than ever before.
Those same 5 Arcane Arrows required to bring down an abomination more than doubled under the ministrations of the necromancers.
The Elven line refused to remain silent, as the resounding concussive booms of artillery joined the frey.
Fire attuned munitions pounded one abomination after another into fried meat paste. They were broken so much, not even the Lich King could raise these burnt out husks into something serviceable.
Within the opening salvo, a dozen abominations were destroyed due to the overwhelming might of the Mana Cannons.
Furthermore, it did no favors for the Scourge that they were crossing a bridge. It was only so wide, and confined their forces to a narrow gap.
A group of over 100 Undead archmages stepped forth, and began to chant in unison. They raised their wands and staves, uttering words in an unknown tongue.
Several rangers attempted to snipe the Undead mages, yet the thick fat and wide bodies of the abominations blocked their attacks.
Seconds later, a whirlwind of ice, and an avalanche of snow spilled forth from their position.
The creeping cold was tainted by Death magic, and carried with it a sapping energy that drained the stamina of all it touched.
Stepping forward to meet this challenge, Blood Elven mages and priests blasted back with a flame tornado, and a giant golden palm.
The three masses of magic seemed to counter one another, however, the Scourge commanders objective was not to directly kill, but to freeze the river, and create a land bridge between Eversong and the Ghostlands!
Slick black ice coated the top of the river, heralding a new wave of Scourge reinforcements.
The beleaguered abominations were soon joined by tens of thousands of skeletons and ghouls, eager to gnaw on flesh, and feast upon souls!
Kael¡¯Thas witnessed all of this from atop his mount, the Phoenix, Al''ar.
Both he and Tenris had yet to clash since their initial bout, each one holding back, and reserving their focus/energy for when it truly mattered.
As the leader of an army, Kael was responsible for all the lives under his command. Unless the Sunfury were in a truly dire situation, and required his immediate aid, they were best served by him acting as a commander. With him holding down the rear, and prepared to act against the enemy leader should he make a move, the rank and file could have some peace of mind.
Traditional battle doctrine typically followed two paths. Either Heroes led from the front, or they held themselves in reserve.
When they led from the front, it was either due to confidence in themselves, or because they had weak followers, and needed to do the heavy lifting. This was the less favored approach, because it exposed the Hero to needless risk, and if they died, then the Common soldiers were swift to follow
The more common strategy, was to have Heroes act in reserve, and deploy the Common tiers besides some Elites. This method served to preserve the high-end damage dealers, and secure the flanks. An army with a Hero could conduct a fighting withdrawal, and would have hope to fight another day. Whereas those Heroes who rushed to the front had a higher mortality rate.
These were the things Kael had learnt whilst on campaign. When he was Prince, Kael was full of anger, and a desire to enact immediate revenge. He took that fire, and flew at the Trolls a few months back. It was only now, as King, that he realized how impactful his death would be.
He still didn''t care much for his own personal safety, but he had seen how much the people looked to him for leadership. Kael realized he could no longer afford to act like a boy, like the idealist that chased after Jaina Proudmoore''s skirt. In times like these, he had to take responsibility, to be a man.
Should Kael, for example, take to the skies, and fly at Tenris in a blind rage, like his past self was wont to do, he would be exposing himself to enemy Heroes and Elites.
Such a scenario was untenable.
And so, Kael found himself directing the Sunfury, like a maestro conducting his orchestra.
When the ice bridge allowed 10,000 Undead to surge forth, he responded, not with a bout of Phoenix Fire, but with a command.
Pulling up his scrying orb, Kael made some quick adjustments to his formation.
[Arcane Golems, focus on the abominations. Archers, aim for casters. Warriors, paladins, hold the line. Mages, take out the ghouls and skeletons.]
Kael¡¯Thas nodded his head when the golems charged forward to meet the abominations. Thanks to the Mana Stones Varrus had provided, the golems were stronger, and launched Magic Missiles at the abominations before they closed.
Concussive blasts of pure Arcane rocked the meat puppets, forcing them back a step, and opening up a gap for the golems to exploit.
Each step of the crimson armored golems shook the ground, their massed charge churned up dust and debris. When they made impact, the sound of flesh slapping against stone rumbled across the battlefield.
Powerful granite hands ripped and tore, pulling apart flesh, and crushing limbs.
Necromancers tried to reinforce their creations once more, however, they were forced to keep their heads down, and toss up shields due to the constant hail of arrows headed their way.
The golems were gaining a slight upper hand, and momentum was shifting in the Sunfury''s favor. Of course, the golems were being destroyed, but it was in their favor. For every 1 golem that had their mana core destroyed, 3 to 4 abominations would fall with it.
When the Scourge commanders saw this, they readjusted their strategy, and began to swarm the golems with dozens of ghouls crawling atop them like kids going crazy on a jungle gym.
[Arcane Explosion] Kael transmitted.
The golems, almost as one, had a blast of white-purple Arcane energy erupt outward in a bubble. Any lesser Undead caught in a 5ft radius was reduced to ash, whereas those up to 10ft away were heavily burned.
Kael¡¯Thas grinned to himself, yet was quick to reel in his emotions. Whilst he was spying through the scrying orb, he saw a force of Demons led by a Dreadlord mounting a counter offensive on his right flanks.
Large, muscular orange creatures known as Felguards, were wielding giant axes and halberds to much effect. Supported by packs of knee-high Imps tossing hundreds of fireballs, the golems on that side of the battle were slowly losing ground. Additionally, Succubi were cracking whips, and applying pain and pleasure to their allies, buffing them into a lust filled frenzy. This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.
¡°Dranarus, you fought the Legion before. Take care of them.¡± Kael turned towards his #2, and gestured towards the Dreadlord that had torn a golem in half with two large, clawed hands.
¡°Gladly, my liege. These Legion scum shall recount the name Dranarus for eons to come!¡± The Knight-Lord nodded, then slammed a helmet on his head.
¡°Spellbreakers, follow me! For Quel''Thalas, for the King!¡± Dranarus shouted.
¡°For Quel''Thalas! For the King!¡± The Spellbreakers hefted their shields, and raised their glaives, mimicking his cry.
Rushing forward, the Spellbreakers conducted a Mass Teleport, and appeared directly behind the Felguard, yet they ignored them, in favor of attacking the swarm of Imps instead.
Enchanted glaives cut into the tiny gremlins with practiced ease. The Elite force stomped the Imps with iron boots, each movement of their economical, and designed to inflict the most damage.
These were the Royal Spellbreakers, the most professional force in all of Quel''Thalas!
¡°Ahh, run away!¡± The Imps cried, and raised their hands in fear as they began to scatter.
¡°Mmm, honey, how about we find a room?¡± A Succubus flicked her tail, and blew a kiss at a Spellbreaker.
The royalist remained stone faced, and his shield lit up, reflecting the charming affect.
¡°Ahh baby, don''t be like that~¡± The Succubus turned away, and presented her naked backside to the Elf, only to catch a blade through her midsection for her troubles.
¡°Imbeciles, turn around.¡± Dethecus commanded the Felguards.
Yet the orange hulks paid no mind to their leader, and kept charging forward, lost to their battle frenzy.
¡°I knew supporting that mewling welp was a failed disaster. I''ll have to report this failure of his to Lord Tichondrius.¡± Dethecus muttered to himself as he watched the majority of his Imps and Succubi fall to enemy action.
He waved his hands, preparing to teleport away, however, he felt the spell he was muttering have its energy redirected.
Instead of teleporting away, he was teleported closer.
¡°Who dares interrupt the will of the Legion?!¡± Dethecus boomed in an attempt to rattle his foes.
Surrounding him in a circle, a dozen Elite Spellbreakers, and one Hero launched a wordless, simultaneous attack.
¡°Bah!¡± Dethecus cursed, then unleashed a carrion swarm of Undead gnats and other insects from within his robe.
Escaping a magic jar that could fit thousands, over 25,000 tiny insects formed a large cloud of plague and decay.
The Spellbreakers lost their smug smiles, and became solemn in the face of such an unexpected attack.
¡°The Legion has use for talents such as yourselves. Submit to us, to me, Dethecus, and your puny mortal lives shall be spared.¡± Dethecus gestured with a claw.
¡°An uncanny deep voice, unreasonable demands, all he''s missing is a mustache.¡± One of the Spellbreakers spoke in a taunting tone.
¡°You dare mock me, Dethecus, servant to the leader of all Dreadlords?! I have burned a thousand worlds, claimed a million souls. What is a paltry 8,000 year old Kingdom on some backwater compared to eons, to the Legion!?¡± Dethecus pointed towards the Elf in anger, and a mass of gnats came buzzing down.
The group of Spellbreakers closed ranks in response. Interlocking their shields, a turtle-like shield interposed itself between them and the Dreadlord''s swarm.
¡°All he needs is a top hat and a monocle to finish the look.¡± Another Elf replied, eliciting much laughter from his fellows.
Dethecus ground his teeth, and charged at the shield, clawing it repeatedly in an effort to brute force his way inside.
¡°Look at the wise ancient, he doesn''t even know how to counter any simple shield spell! What knave thought Dethecus would be a good name? Did they think it would inspire fear?¡± The mockery continued.
More laughter ensued, and Dethecus saw red. His claws took on a crimson hue, and began to actually rip the barrier apart.
¡°It''s so quiet. Hm, no. Is that the sound of hope crashing and shattering into thousands of tiny pieces? Ah, I shall enjoy tormenting your souls.¡± Dethecus momentarily paused to taunt the Elves once the barrier was on the verge of total collapse.
However, the Dreadlord was met with smirks, and suppressed chortles instead of the anticipated pleas and sobs of forgiveness.
Narrowing his eyes, Dethecus twirled around, and launched a surge of Fel empowered red crescents behind him, only for it to get absorbed by a Spellbreaker''s shield.
The Dreadlord''s eyes widened, as he discovered in his rage, he had been blinded to his surroundings. What had once been an encirclement of a dozen Elites and a Hero, had turned into hundreds of Elites.
His Demon army had vanished, sent back to the Twisting Nether to regenerate for who knows how long.
Lord Tichondrius would be most displeased¡
Furthermore, they had completely encased him in a barrier, preventing any escape.
The corner of his lip twitched as the magnitude of the situation presented itself. Clenching his clawed fists, Dethecus silently eyed their leader. His name was Dranarus, if he had heard correctly. When his body finally reformed, he would return and get his vengeance on the arrogant smug Elf.
¡°What a scary look, huh men? I bet he''s plotting his revenge as we speak! Unfortunately for him, we know how to deal with Demons! In fact, our very own First Seat did a play about me once, if you could imagine that! It was a tale of capturing a Dreadlord, the same as the creature in front of us today!¡± Dranarus pulled out an amulet affixed with powerful runes and enchantments.
Dethecus''s eyes widened as he realized what was happening, and raised a hand to his own throat in an attempt to release his spirit back to the Twisting Nether.
The Elf simply watched on with a smirk on his face as Dethecus did himself in.
¡®Smile while you can, Elf. I''ll be back-¡¯ Dethecus thought to himself, when his body was turning transparent. However, before he could forcibly return to the Twisting Nether, the amulet flashed, and his spirit was imprisoned within.
¡°Let us press forward, for His Majesty!¡± Dranarus roared towards the Spellbreakers.
~~~~~~
On the western flank, within some hills, Ranger General Lor''Themar Theron, and Farstrider Commander, Halduron Brightwing were camped in some bushes alongside the Royal Rangers Elites.
Lying on his back, Lor''Themar was carving new pairs of shoes. His latest battle with Lireesa Windrunner had reminded him of the things he had left behind in the name of revenge, and safeguarding the country.
With all the turmoil, he had taken up shoemaking to remember his parents. It was a calming hobby in such dangerous times.
¡°Carving shoes?¡± Halduron whispered from the side.
¡°Mm.¡± Lor''Themar responded, focusing on the task at hand.
¡°Shouldn''t the Ranger General be preparing for the enemy attack?¡± Halduron questioned just loud enough for several nearby Rangers to hear.
¡°They''ll come when they come.¡± Lor''Themar ignored Halduron, and held up the shoe closer for inspection.
¡®It could use a little smoothening out.¡¯ Lor''Themar thought to himself, and blew some wood shavings off of it.
¡°One day, I wish to become as venerable and wise as our great leader.¡± Halduron nodded with a big smile.
¡°Is that day 10 years from now?¡± Lor''Themar said with disinterest as he began to rub some edges smooth.
¡°Pfah?! Ahem, wherever would you get such an idea? Me, replacing you in 10 years?! Preposterous!¡± Halduron waved his hands in front of him in denial.
Lor''Themar briefly gave him a look that said he wasn''t buying that shit, but then shook his head with a sigh. This is why he never wanted to be Ranger General, or a member of the Convocation.
Politics, how he hated it. Maybe he needed a wife to help keep him centered. All this backstabbing, leading the Royal Rangers and keeping two headstrong boys on the right path was taking its toll on him.
Halduron was just one among many eying his position.
Best to put some fear in Brightwing''s heart, Lor¡¯Themar decided. He knew the man for the animal he was, but so long as Brightwing was #2, then all the vipers that wanted the spot of Ranger General would have to go through Brightwing first.
A small smile threatened to spread across Lor''Themar''s face at the thought, before he clamped down on it.
¡°Want to hear some wisdom? You can''t keep hiding behind Faedra''s skirt, you know. She''s a bad influence on you, and won''t bail you out a second time. There''s a new Sheriff in town, don''t come looking for me when your hand gets burnt for playing with fire.¡± Lor''Themar seriously replied, and waved his carving knife at Halduron chidingly.
¡°Don''t remind me. Those Vandercross dungeons aren''t a joke.¡± Halduron glumly turned away with a bitter expression.
Lor''Themar hummed in response, happy to keep carving a pair of tiny child sized shoes. He knew Vandercross was trying for kids, and might as well get in their good graces ahead of time.
During his musings, the sound of a wood squirrel sounded near their position.
¡°That''s the signal, they''re here!¡± Halduron harshly whispered, and drew an arrow.
¡°No, Halduron, we wait for half the party to pass. Our informant is leading the column, wouldn''t want them to get caught in the crossfire.¡± Lor''Themar calmly lowered Halduron''s bow, then resumed his carving.
¡°...Faedra is quite terrifying, you know. If not for her, we would have been blind to this Darkfallen assault. Tying oneself to her carriage isn''t the worst outcome.¡± Halduron stayed conspiratorially, and with great meaning.
Lor''Themar wrinkled his nose.
Ally with that witch?
No thank you!
Yet the game had to be played.
¡°I''ll think about it.¡± Lor''Themar gave a nonanswer, then stood with his bow drawn as soon as Halduron was going to say more.
Silently unleashing his arrow, he caught a Darkfallen in the throat.
All around him, Elite rangers rose up, and delivered a dozen death blows in seconds towards the unprepared Scourge forces.
When the enemy Elites regained their bearings, enchanted objects that had been planted in the soil earlier were detonated. Any Darkfallen that had tried to break out was caught underneath by a series of explosions.
It was a slaughter.
Lor''Themar closed his eyes as he recognized more than half of the Darkfallen that lay dead on the ground.
He was too old for this shit.
Sighing to himself, he sent a message to the King.
[The west is secured. Their flanking force is eliminated.
It''s done.]
~~~~~~~
Kael received the message on his scrying orb from Lor''Themar the same time that Dranarus had defeated the Dreadlord.
Scanning the battlefield, his right and center were dominating the enemy, only the left flank, besieged by Death Knights, was undergoing any kind of strife.
[Warriors, paladins, pull back on the left flank. When the Death Knights advance, the cloaked golems will emerge from hiding and flank them.]
The ¡®routed¡¯ Blood Elves were chased down by the Death Knights, however, as soon as the mounted riders over extended, Arcane Golems that had been stationary, and covered in camouflage cloaks rose from the ground, and encircled the Scourge Elites.
Necromancers tried once more to bail their allies out, however rogues played havoc in their lines, and previously prepared enchanted mines exploded beneath their feet, taking out whatever support the Scourge army had left.
Before long, spells, swords, and stone fists wore away at the Death Knights from all sides, and turned them into scraps.
All that was left was perhaps 60,000 ghouls, skeletons, a few hundred abominations, and a force of pesky Darkfallen archmages. They were a threatening force to be sure, but under Kael''s leadership, his troops were mostly unharmed, and any injury was quickly seen to by the priests. Victory seemed ever closer.
When everything seemed to be going well, it only got better. Kael received a message that put a wide smile on his face.
[I''m here] -Varrus.
Kael glanced on the horizon, and saw a large army gathering behind the Scourge force.
He almost felt bad for Tenris.
Almost.
Chapter 92
(30 min before Varrus arrives behind Tenris)
The trek from Tranquillien to the border region where Eversong and the Ghostlands met was an awkward affair for Varrus.
Combine the revelation of Nightsong being his mother with the fact that he was the son of Vandercross, and the damned smug Elves turned into a walking, talking gossip machine.
He wished he could teleport his army to the battlefield so he could ignore the constant chatter. Were these Highborne more interested in discussing the upcoming battle, or even the heroics and close calls of the siege? Were they interested in catching up with one another after surviving the harrowing Scourge invasion, or realizing that their friend is ¡®alive¡¯ as a Darkfallen?
Nope!
They were busy discussing how scandalous it was that the First Seat, and the most famous general in Quel''Thalas hooked up and had a child together.
Varrus wanted to slam his forehead into something. His peoples priorities were seriously fucked when drama was more important than strategy.
Even the engineering nerd, Telonicus was getting into it! Drawing schematics, and calculating the odds of Varrus''s conception!
To top it all off, Nightsong was hovering 5ft behind him and Syra. She wasn''t saying anything, and was just staring at him.
When he asked her what she was doing, she replied that she was making up for lost time, and observing him to see what he liked, disliked, and to see how Vandercross had raised him.
Heck, she even had a notebook on hand! Varrus had caught a few glimpses of the contents, and he saw a few remarkably detailed drawings of himself inside.
It felt a little creepy at first, but when he saw a drawing of Nightsong, Vandercross, and a little boy held between them, he could only sigh, and let the woman have her moment.
The world was cruel, and he wouldn''t begrudge someone clinging to the past like that. Varrus had already experienced plenty of loss, so he sympathized with her. From her perspective, it must be like she awoke from a coma, only to discover her husband is dead, and her son is a grown man.
Such a thought was, quite frankly, terrifying. So whilst he felt her behavior was strange, he couldn''t hate her, and begrudgingly accepted it.
Syra on the other hand, was a wild concoction of emotions. With Faedra around, and Nightsong seemingly giving her the cold shoulder, she was extra clingy.
Varrus hadn''t felt such pressure on his arm since he first transmigrated! He could only thank the Light that he put points into Stamina, and HP, toughening himself up. Because his twig-like Elven physique would snap if she put any more pressure on him!
Rho''dan was no help, of course, and seemed to defer to Nightsong in everything. Blasted traitor.
Then there was Koren and the rest going starstruck over Nightsong, all the while, Faedra was gaslighting everything in sight.
It was a truly outrageous, and painful march to reinforce the Sunfury.
¡°Before we reach the enemy, do you have any advice, or strategy to defeat Tenris?¡± Varrus turned to Nightsong, and questioned.
¡°He is a survivor at heart, and played the various Scourge commanders against one another by feigning incompetence. I expect him to flee upon our arrival.¡± Nightsong explained, looking up from her notebook from time to time to glance at Varrus, then etch something with her quill.
¡°Tenris always was one prone to outbursts in court. However, he had many supporters. One does not remain beholden to rage for centuries, and maintain a cohesive political block. Your mother is correct, son-in-law~.¡± Faedra said in a teasing tone of voice.
Varrus didn''t see it, but he felt Nightsong and Faedra share a glance. His eye twitched at the exchange.
Deciding he would avoid that particular brand of feminine drama, Varrus pressed forward with the info they had presented.
¡°So what you''re saying is that we shouldn''t ruffle his feathers if we want to get close. But how do we do that? Nightsong, could you message him via scrying orb?¡± Varrus asked.
¡°We did not share contact information.¡± Nightsong replied, then showed Varrus a picture of Faedra on her knees crying whilst Nightsong and Vandercross were kissing under a tree.
¡°Ah.¡± Varrus verbalized, almost letting out a laugh.
Nightsong gently smiled, and put a finger to her lips, like a naughty child sharing some secret.
Varrus rolled his eyes. Was this the mature, and illustrious general feared throughout Quel''Thalas? He swore, this new mother of his was giving off recently graduated school teacher vibes. Acting mature for everyone else, yet a little giddy when around the people she was close to.
Honestly, Varrus found this behavior to be a little adorable. However, it was a sobering thought that she pretty much trounced him in a 1v1. Why were all the women in his life such terrifyingly strong brutes?!
Side-eyeing Syra for a moment, she must''ve felt something, because she turned at that exact moment, and caught him staring. She flashed a smile, and drew him close for a kiss.
¡°Ahem, why don''t we act like the Highborn are prisoners when we approach?¡± Varrus posited.
¡°A good idea, Highlord. We could hide our weapons inside mageweave bags, to better sell the image of a conquered enemy.¡± Rho''dan suggested from the side.
¡°Hmm, yes, it could work. My dearest daughter could even act as bait. The Crown Prince did have quite the fixation with her.¡± Faedra arched an eyebrow, and appraised Syra''s figure appreciatively.
¡°The three of us could go on a stealth mission, and take Tenris out from the rear, and General Nightsong could act as the frontline instead!¡± Syra posited a counter offer.
Varrus, Faedra, and Nightsong all glanced at her, then at one another.
Varrus slowly smiled, then rubbed her on the top of her head.
¡°No can do, Tenris rides a Dragon mount, if we want him to come within striking distance, not only should we use you as bait, but we should threaten to kill you too!¡± Varrus proudly exclaimed as he explained his plan.
¡°It does have a certain, femme fatale charm. I approve.¡± Faedra examined her nails, then eyed the dagger sheathed on her hip with a smirk gracing her lips. This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
¡°Then it''s settled.¡± Nightsong agreed.
Syra pouted at Varrus, seemingly disappointed that they didn''t get to go on another stealth adventure.
¡°Relax, you were so angry with that Tenris guy, equating him to a slime, right?¡± Varrus whispered in Syra''s ear, and gently ran his fingers against her scalp.
Syra shivered under his ministrations, and had a funny look on her face as his touch was slightly ticklish.
¡°Forget pretending to threaten your life. Instead, we can put on a show, one that demonstrates our love and loyalty for one another in front of all of Quel''Thalas. Then, when Tenris comes near, you can have his heart in the palm of your hands, just like he always wanted~.¡± Varrus explained in a hushed, then finished with a shark-like grin.
Syra''s expression became more excited the longer Varrus talked. When he spoke of murder, that''s when he knew he had her.
She pulled him close for a two handed hug, and rested her head under his chin. Her hair was slightly ticklish, but Varrus didn''t mind.
After sharing her warmth, Syra held her hands up to him, like a kid that wanted ¡®up.¡¯
Varrus rolled his eyes, then pulled her into a princess carry.
A brilliant smile flashed across her face, and Varrus found himself matching it. He pressed his nose to hers, and held her eyes as they marched forth.
He couldn''t wait to see Tenris''s face when the love of his life was in the arms of Silvermoon''s most notorious playboy!
~~~~~~
Tenris was on edge. He hadn''t received any reports from either the west, or eastern flanking forces.
The Dreadlord was defeated, and the gambit in which he sacked the center for future gains was not paying off.
Drumming his fingers across a horn on his mount¡¯s back, Tenris considered going all out, in an attempt to draw the enemy''s attention even further, and grant his flanking forces more time to break through.
However, he quickly discounted that notion as foolishness. If he got locked down, or over extended, then he would truly be doomed.
As it stood, if he didn''t see a change in his favor within the next 15 minutes, he would have his only remaining Elites-the archmages-create a portal, and escape back to Deatholme. He still had over 60,000 Undead on hand, and could make a comeback.
As much as it irked him to run back to his mother, he would rather be a living disgrace, than a deceased delinquent! He could always resume his siege of Tranquillien, but with the Sunfury hot on his heels, he''d rather cut his losses, and leave General Nightsong as a surprise for his younger half-brother.
When these two forces clashed, Tenris might be able to convince his mother to finally mobilize her troops.
Yes, it was all coming together.
Tenris had convinced himself that defeat was all but inevitable, and was about to sound the retreat, when he caught whiff of a large amount of Death energy marching from over the horizon.
Turning his mount around, Tenris was surprised to witness a perplexing scene.
Thousands of exhausted looking Highborn covered in mud were being escorted by a similar number of Darkfallen.
Leading from the front, General Nightsong road atop a large carriage. She sat in an overly large chair, and was observing a pair of ragged, mud covered prisoners performing in front of her.
Were these reinforcements???
Tenris was suspicious. What was the General''s ploy? Did she intend to use the living as shields? When he thought about it like that, Tenris''s estimation of Nightsong''s threat level jumped several tiers. He had been wary that she would seize power amongst the Darkfallen due to her prestige and charisma. However, seeing her act so ruthless, Tenris knew he had to be rid of her.
However, these reinforcements were quite welcome. He could use her, much like he had used the Dreadlord.
Realizing he had no means to contact her, he directed the Dragon to dive bomb her position, then pull up just before colliding in a show of dominance.
Wind crashed, and dust flew into the air as Tenris came close.
¡°Good work conquering Tranquillien. My forces were just about to break through their western flank, and crush the boy-king from the rear. However, your arrival shall expedite this process. Take your troops down the center, and share in my glory as a conqueror!¡± Tenris grandly spread his arms, making sure to spread plenty of misinformation in his speech, yet making it seem like she was the late comer to his ¡®victory.¡¯
¡°A most gracious proposition, King Tenris. I appreciate your forthrightness, and have come with a gift.¡± Nightsong gestured towards the dirty prisoners.
One held a guitar, whilst the other sang a beautiful song.
¡°Syra?¡± Tenris leaned forward on his mount, and held his hand out in surprise, and longing.
¡°And her husband, Varrus Vandercross. There isn''t a more handsome couple in all of Quel''Thalas.¡± Nightsong added on, then cast a cleansing spell on both of them, clearing up the mud.
¡°The playboy?! Careful Nightsong, I value our cordial relationship, but do not take me for some cockroach, free to have his feelings trampled upon.¡± Tenris pulled back his hand, and scanned his surroundings wearily.
This smelt like a plot straight from those trashy Vandercross plays. He would never let anyone know that he watched that drivel, and if anyone asked, it was just so he could hate on it more!
Realizing that his emotions were likely being toyed with, and that an ambush might occur, he directed his mount to fly out and put some distance between them and the carriage.
However, much to his shock, he found himself clapping to the beat of the guitar, and unconsciously reaching into his own pocket to toss some coins at the guitarist!
¡°Mind control?!¡± Tenris gasped in surprise.
¡°I don''t have the opportunity to perform much these days, but I welcome your applause, Crown Prince.¡± Vandercross bowed his head, as his fingers continued to strum along.
Tenris pulled upon the dark power within, and snapped himself out of the dangerous fugue.
¡®Attack!¡¯ He mentally commanded his Dragon.
The beast roared toxic green flames at the carriage, only to have them meet another massive Dragon wing.
Nightsong, using druidic magic, had transformed herself into a Red Dragon, and began to match claws with his mount!
Tenris was desperate to escape, and knew that he had very little time to act. He mentally commanded his archmages to open a portal to Deatholme. He had to leave now.
Conjuring a ray of sickly green Death energy, Tenris blasted the Red Dragon in front of him, and ordered his own mount to take flight.
Just when he thought he was going to get away, a massive sun-like orb of fire dropped down atop of him, forcing him to erect a barrier.
Whilst he blocked the attack, the force involved pressed him back to the ground.
¡°You look nervous.¡± A seductive voice tickled his ear.
¡°Aunt Faedra.¡± Tenris said in realization, his eyes widened in fear when he felt a stiletto enter and leave his back a dozen times.
Paralytic magic coursed through the blade, and interrupted Tenris¡¯s flow of mana. Not even his Undead constitution was safe from the power of this enchantment!
¡°Shhh, shhh, do not worry, it will all be over soon. Your heart''s desire draws near.¡± Faedra cooed, her hand reached over his shoulder, and beckoned toward the singer.
Tenris felt the blood in his body run cold as he saw the most beautiful woman in the world decapitate the Dragon he was so proud of.
As a shower of black blood evaporated into the shield surrounding her, she looked up at him, and smiled.
Tenris licked his lips, speechless at the rapid turn of events.
The smiling angel gracefully flowed up to him, and sucker punched him in the heart.
He felt a pain in his chest, and looked down in horror as all the blood he had consumed over the last few weeks began to crumble, and decay. His bright red heart hissed, and steam came off of it as countless trapped souls were released from their torment.
Tenris gasped one last time as he saw the object of his desire kiss the playwright he despised, and was jealous of.
How he wished his own father would have let him have such freedom from responsibility.
Collapsing into a pile of ash, Tenris was no more.
~~~~~~~
Varrus held Syra close, thankful that their plan to gank the former Crown Prince had been carried out smoothly.
There was a bit of a hiccup when Tenris broke out of Varrus''s perk: Performer. However, everything worked out in the end.
There were very few people who could match power against 4 Heroes at the same time, and even fewer who could survive an ambush.
¡°Excellent work my Star.¡± Varrus complimented.
¡°We are not finished yet.¡± Syra gestured her sword towards the remaining horde.
Varrus nodded. They had to mop up the remaining enemy.
The reconquest of Quel''Thalas was almost over. Once they regrouped, and had time to rest, Queen Lana''thel would be next.
¡°For Silvermoon, for Quel''Thalas!¡± Varrus raised his sword, and shouted whilst pointing at the enemy.
¡°For Silvermoon, for Quel''Thalas!¡± Rho''dan and company were quick to follow the call, and began to charge.
Nightsong busily began to draw the current scene in her sketchbook, and Faedra reclined on a chair she had conjured, like a lazy cat done with the day.
Varrus felt his eyebrow twitch, and decided to ignore them. He then turned to Syra, and smirked.
¡°First to 5,000 wins?¡±
¡°Mmn!¡± Syra nodded, and smiled back.
Varrus laughed as he saw her take off, like a sprinter, or sports car racing in a straight line. He then unfurled his flying carpet, and took to the skies to bombard the enemy below.
His dreams of establishing an Elven Mageotech Empire were coming closer and closer. Before long, he would be invading the Human lands, and taking the fight to Kel¡¯Thuzad and the Dreadlords.
This time, he would be the one with the initiative, there would be no saving those disgusting degenerates from his wrath.
However, his first priority would always be the safety of his wife.
Glancing at his wife''s backside as she slaughtered her way through countless skeletons, and ghouls, Varrus felt both confidence, and worry. While the Highborne were powerful, what they had fought up to now was but a taste of what was to come.
There were TENS OF MILLIONS of Humans spread throughout the kingdoms of Man, all of them ripe victims for the Scourge. If he was to realistically take them on, he would need waaay more golems, and possibly new allies.
Furthermore, attacking the Scourge whilst it was still united was foolish. Once Arthas returned from Kalimdor (signaling Archimonde''s defeat), and initiated a civil war between factions, then, and only then would Varrus would restore the Sunwell, and stomp down upon the divided enemy.
Clenching his fists, Varrus rained fire down upon ghouls as he excitedly plotted the downfall of his enemies.
The upcoming battles would be harrowing, but beyond the clouds of plague, and vicious murders, there was a golden future waiting to be grasped!
Chapter 93
From Varrus''s perspective, the plan to gank Tenris went on without a hitch. Instead of prolonging any long fight, they had lured him close, and executed a well-timed team attack.
By baiting Syra, Tenris came within range of Varrus''s Speech skill, Performer. Which forced those within a certain range to listen, enraptured by his performance, and pay him in gold.
Of course, this was an incredibly risky maneuver on Varrus''s part, because it didn''t have a particularly long range, and it kept his hands occupied. If he wanted to retaliate with a sword or spell, that extra few seconds it would take to drop the guitar would leave him open.
Ultimately, Perform wasn''t something to rely upon, but was useful situationally. Such as when he had three other Heroes backing him up.
And what Heroes they were!
Varrus had watched on in shocked surprise as Nightsong transformed into a massive Red Dragon, and matched claws with the opposing Undead Black Dragon.
The fight between the two juggernauts was like watching Godzilla vs King Kong. Breath attacks scorched one another in a fiery cataclysm of heat and plague.
Varrus sensed Life magic coursing through her, and wondered if a mage''s polymorph could replicate this skill. It was something to look into for another day. Perhaps he could transform himself, a loyal pet, or even an everyday household item into a Dragon. If so, that would be quite something.
But there was more to the gank than this surprising revelation.
When Tenris attempted his escape, Varrus had dropped a Forbidden Sun atop his head, forcing him to the ground.
From there, the plan came to fruition when Faedra stabbed Tenris in the back, and Syra ripped his heart out.
The former Crown Prince stood no chance when four of Quel''Thalas''s mightiest Heroes caught him by surprise.
Such an event was eye opening to Varrus, because if he placed himself in Tenris''s shoes, and fought against Nightsong, Syra, Faedra, and say, Kael¡¯Thas, and was caught in a sudden ambush, he didn''t know if he could survive. At that point, running to fight another day seemed like the only logical option. Varrus would have to keep that thought in mind going forward. He wasn''t invincible, and still had a long way to go.
Moving on from Tenris''s death, Varrus''s group had begun their mop up operation.
Without their leader, the local Scourge forces returned to a default state of constant frenzy, and became easy targets for the well organized Elven ranks.
Under a coordinated assault, ghouls and skeletons could work together to drag an Elf down, then pounce upon him with a combination of weapons, and a hint of intelligence, such as aiming for the gaps in armor.
However, due to Tenris''s death, the majority of the Undead charged mindlessly, and relentlessly at the closest living target, leaving them wide open for golems to crush their flanks. All the paladins and warriors had to do was hold the line, and wait for the Arcane Golems to stomp these mindless freaks into meat paste.
Of course, some necromancers, and other Undead possessed intelligence, and attempted to flee, but were caught out by Varrus, and his relief army.
30 minutes after Tenris''s death, the battle for the bridge was concluded. A stack of corpses was slowly smoldering upon a pyre, and golems were hard at work tossing more and more bodies upon the ever growing mound.
Priests and paladins were muttering prayers over the fire, and tossing incense into the flame, purifying it of any corruption. Rangers were busy scouring the field for arrows, rogues moving out to disable any magical mines they had planted earlier, and warriors were cleaning blackened blood off their blades.
Thick smoke wafted in the air, and Varrus wrinkled his nose at the smell.
Kael¡¯Thas flew over on his Phoenix, and warily eyed Nightsong from atop his mount.
¡°Hail, First Seat, your aid was most timely.¡±
¡°You don''t have to be so formal, nor must you keep your distance upon Al''ar. This is Nightsong, she leads a contingent of Darkfallen who remain loyal to Quel''Thalas.¡± Varrus explained.
¡°I know who she is, Varrus. A revolutionary who is against the Monarchy, against the Convocation. But if you claim her as a friend, then I will place my trust in you.¡± Kael stated, and reluctantly landed.
Varrus glanced at Nightsong, but noticed she did not deny these claims. He licked his lips. Perhaps there was more to the Bronze Dragonflight attacking her then he had first assumed.
On the surface, she was a mother who wanted to reconnect with her child. But that didn''t mean she wasn''t her own person, with goals and dreams for the future. Varrus made a mental note to keep his eye out. Glancing at Rho''dan, the guard seemed to get the memo, and ever so slightly inclined his chin.
He would still accept Nightsong, but that didn''t mean he would leave himself exposed to her.
¡°I vouch for her. Nightsong is my mother after all.¡± Varrus chuckled when he saw Kael stumble during his dismount at this revelation.
¡°The most famous general, and politician paired up? I see now why you pretended to be a playboy for so many years. If you showed even an ounce of their competency, assassins and ner-do-wells would pounce upon you before you had a chance to grow.¡± Kael laughed.
¡°Right, it was all part of the plan to hide my talents.¡± Varrus nervously chuckled along with Kael.
¡°General Nightsong, Lady Vandercross, Lady Greathollow.¡± Kael nodded at the others.
¡°Yes, our little Varrus here was quite the surprise. Imagine my shock when he claimed the head of the traitor, Drathir Dar''Khan within a week of the Scourging of Silvermoon? My daughter has quite the eye.¡± Faedra said with all the smug pride of a mother whose child got into a top tier school.
Syra seemed to ignore her mother, and was holding Varrus close, as if any of the three beautiful Elves in front of them were a threat to her property.
¡°She is amazing, isn''t she? I¡¯d be dead without her ¡± Varrus spoke up in genuine praise, and lovingly rubbed her back.
¡°That''s because my bestie is the best!¡± Jan''alai roared from the skies, then landed with a thump as she transformed back into a Forest Troll.
The tall, muscular green lady grabbed Kael in a headlock, and pulled him into her breasts.
Kael seemed to anticipate it this time, and he could only roll his eyes as he was embraced from behind.
Varrus smiled, and internally applauded Kael. The guy had been a blushing mess a few months back, but now as King, he owned the moment. Kael had graduated from being comedic relief and a dense-idiot shounen protagonist, to a man secure in his love for his woman. Very nice.
Nightsong-who was sketching Varrus & Syra-paused in her work, and flipped a page so that she could draw a new piece of art.
Varrus shook his head at the scene. Along with Kael''s arrival, the other important Heroes and Elites began to gather as well. This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
¡°With our victory here, about a quarter of the Ghostlands is under our control. I propose we hold a meeting, and detail our conquest in further detail.¡± Varrus suggested.
¡°Agreed. I have eliminated the Murlocs off the west coast, driven off the Trolls in the south east, and secured Fairbreeze Village. Eversong is firmly within our control. It is time to move on to the Ghostlands.¡± Kael nodded along.
Varrus once again internally applauded Kael¡¯Thas. He had bloodied his army, and the results spoke for themselves. Tenris''s force was cleanly eliminated, and casualties were at a minimum.
The young King had proven himself to be the leader he was always meant to be. Varrus was proud of his friend for his accomplishments, as well as his maturity. Without Fel corruption or a burning hunger for constant mana, Kael was a level headed, smooth operator. With the two of them leading the government, Varrus foresaw a golden age for Highborn culture and society.
Now that Tenris was finished, and Tranquillien secure, it was time for them to plan out their next move.
Lana''thel, the former Queen of Quel''Thalas, was still a thorn in their side, and needed to be destroyed. But the province of the Ghostlands was huge. It would be reckless to charge straight at her gates.
Before they advanced any further into her territory, they needed a plan of attack.
~~~~~~~~~
After some more time had passed, Varrus found himself within a hastily setup tent, and sitting upon conjured furniture.
A large table was placed in the center, and Varrus found himself sitting on one side, beside Koren, Thaladred, Telonicus, and Lor''Themar, as representatives of the Convocation.
On the other side of the table, Kael¡¯Thas was flanked by his advisors: Pathaleon the Calculator, Knight-Lord Dranarus, and Magister Governor Allatrocx.
Nightsong occupied one end of the table, and had a couple Darkfallen sitting beside her. Whilst Faedra, was also acting as a third party, and occupied the other head of the table.
Finally, Syra, and Rho''dan stood behind him, Halduron behind Faedra, and Jan''alai behind Kael, acting officially as ¡®experts,¡¯ they were allowed at this meeting between the Monarchy and the Convocation due to some legal mumbo jumbo. However, they weren''t afforded a seat at the table due to their status.
Syra took this as an invitation to sit on his lap, and Jan''alai draped herself over Kael''s backside in response. The two women shared a smile, Syra''s demure, and Jan''alai''s wide like a shark.
Allatrocx scoffed in a way that reminded Varrus of Tae''thelon. He wagered the two smug Elves would make the best of friends.
Syra wriggled in place, like a cat getting comfortable. Varrus bit his lower lip, and barely kept his hands locked on her hips, instead of wandering to her breasts.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Lor''Themar face palming, and muttering to himself. Lor''Themar then shrugged his shoulders, and took out a pair of tiny, unfinished wooden shoes, and he began to work upon them. Apparently if both the First Seat, and the King were going to flaunt decorum, so too would the Ranger General.
Varrus received a few arched eyebrows from the rest, but no one remarked upon this scandalous pose, most people present were more focused on the situation at hand.
A large map detailing the Ghostlands was spread out in front of them, on it were markers for Scourge holdouts, and other locations.
¡°To start things off, Lor''Themar, Faedra, what do your scouts and agents have to report regarding the land?¡± Varrus questioned.
¡°Large troop movements have been spotted in Windrunner Village, Suncrown Village, and Goldenmist Village. My scouts have determined that there are holdouts in each of these locations, and are in desperate need of support.
Furthermore, any force that tries to move throughout the Ghostlands will be assaulted by treants, and roots. Only the central plains, and roads remain safe from this botanical nightmare. The trees have become animated into undeath, and actively attack those passing by. Seldom few of my men can traverse the forests, as only the most silent and light footed Rangers can creep past the trees.¡± Lor''Themar shared, never once looking up from his carving.
¡°Faedra?¡±
¡°Hmm, I have much the same to report as our dear Ranger General. However, I have eyes and ears on the inside. Deatholme is surrounded by mountains on all sides, and the city walls are overrun by bark and tree roots. A mist of toxic acid surrounds the city, and a toxic mist pollutes the air.
I know Lana''thel, and she would much rather patiently accumulate her forces until the time to strike presents itself. With the defeat of her son, half her army has been destroyed. From this, I say she should play on the defensive, and won''t emerge from her lair unless outside reinforcements arrive.¡± Faedra tiredly explained, and glanced at Varrus in boredom.
¡°If this is true, then the freedom of our people takes priority. Using Tranquillien as a base, I say we divide and conquer. We have several armies present, and three villages to liberate between them.¡± Kael suggested.
¡°Do not forget the twin Sanctums of Sun & Moon. If I can place Rune Stones there, I think I can solve the forest problem. Treants will still be an issue, especially at Deatholm, but the lands leading up to the fortress city should be safe if my calculations are correct.¡± Telonicus spoke up from the side.
Varrus arched an eyebrow in surprise at the Royal Engineer''s statement. Typically the mathematician remained silent, lost in his own world of design and numbers.
¡°Yes, the Rune Stones in those twin areas should be a priority. If we can link them with the one stationed at Tranquillien, then Lana''thel''s strength will be that much weaker.¡± Governor Allatrocx agreed.
¡°Nonsense! I say we attack now! This plan would take approximately two weeks at the minimum to carry out, as it takes one week to produce a singular Rune Stone! The longer we wait, the more time that traitor has to organize! Lana''thel must be reeling from the loss of Tenris and his army. If we rush her now, she will be taken by surprise! We must strike while the iron is hot!¡± Thaladred slammed his plated fist onto the table.
Varrus slightly nodded his head. He could see the value in this proposition. Lana''thel must be panicking right now. Besides, they had momentum on their side. If they let things cool down while morale was high, then they might face defeat against an entrenched opponent.
¡°Absolutely not! I will not abandon my people in the hinterlands for a momentary gain! There could be thousands, or tens of thousands of our brethren trapped in their homes, desperate for salvation. As King, I refuse to let one more drop of Elven blood fall to corruption!¡± Kael passionately denied Thaladred''s motion, and looked to Varrus for support.
¡°...While your idea has merit, Thaladred, I must agree with the King on this matter. A systematic approach to reclaiming the Ghostlands is a sound decision. Besides, you heard Lor''Themar''s report, the very forest has turned into our enemy. If we rushed forward, our flanks would be left wide open.¡± Varrus defended his friend, whilst also providing a reasonable explanation as to why a full frontal attack would be risky.
¡°My Darkfallen will secure Windrunner Village.¡± Nightsong suggested.
¡°Don''t forget knights! We''ll go to Suncrown!¡± Koren was quick to volunteer himself.
¡°Then I shall take Goldenmist.¡± Kael finished.
¡°I guess that leaves the Sanctums to me.¡± Varrus glanced at Syra sitting in his lap, and nodded.
¡°My Rangers will continue to scout. I''ll keep everyone here updated as to any enemy troop movements.¡± Lor''Themar added.
¡°Very good. Meeting dismissed.¡± Kael said to the group.
When everyone began to shuffle out of the tent, Syra and Jan''alai began to discuss lewd acts in one corner, and Kael caught up to Varrus for a quick chat.
¡°We haven''t spoken in some time. Has Silvermoon been purged? Did the negotiations with the Kobolds go well?¡± Kael asked in a serious, yet friendly manner that gave a similar vibe to a friend that conveyed both concern and support.
Varrus had a small smile on his face, and clapped Kael on the shoulder at the concern he was showing. The dude may be King now, and Varrus was head of a House, both roles coming with tons of responsibilities, and eating at their time, but that didn''t mean they stopped being friends.
¡°It went well. Silvermoon is purged of all taint, and the Kobolds have become vassals of ours. They are sending tons of ores, and rare earth minerals to our capitol as we speak.¡± Varrus said with pride.
¡°Vassals? That is a surprise, how did you manage that?¡± Kael raised his eyebrows in shock, yet there was no distaste or disapproval in his tone.
Varrus nodded his head in approval, Kael was truly growing as a leader. The old Kael would likely balk at the idea of dominating another culture or kingdom. But now? Everything was on the line. They needed every bit of help they could get.
¡°It''s a long story, but Kobolds culturally follow whoever wears the largest candlestick atop their head. I also fought an extremely powerful Void creature, freeing them from a curse.¡± Varrus started off lightheartedly, but ended his statement with a grim undertone.
¡°Is it anything I should be concerned about?¡± Kael asked, equally grim.
¡°Not for the moment, no. The creature was in some extra-dimensional temple that was here, uet not here. I destroyed the structure, sending it back to wherever it came from. I think the place where I fought it predated Elven civilization. There is a mystery to our world, and beings older than us. It isn''t anything to worry about now, but is certainly something worth investigating.¡± Varrus spoke in a hushed whisper. Even now, just thinking about the absolute queerness of The Door, and the pure darkness of the temple had him feeling goosebumps.
¡°...I''ll have to trouble you with Pathaleon sometime, and have him cross reference with the archives. Whatever threatens Quel''Thalas cannot be allowed to survive.¡± Kael said with steely determination.
¡°I agree. So what about you, how was it retaking Eversong?¡± Varrus changed the topic, and asked about his friend.
¡°It was difficult at first, many still do not approve of my and Jan''alai''s¡relationship. However, I have proven myself as a viable field commander, and it went well. The only hiccup was a run in with the Naga.¡± Kael said, frowning as he recounted his tale.
¡°You didn''t accept their aid, did you?¡± Varrus spoke quickly and in a tone of subtle condemnation.
¡°No, you told me they were servants of the Old Ones. I trust you, much more than a snake woman.¡± Kael scowled.
¡°Alright, alright, so what did she have to say?¡± Varrus held up his hands placatingly.
¡°An offer of friendship, and a cure to our addiction.¡± Kael answered back.
¡°Hmm, avoid that woman at all costs, every word that hisses from her leathery mouth is a lie.¡± Varrus was quick to cast shade at the Naga sea witch.
¡°I''ve got it, I''ve got it, I understood it the third time! Well, if there''s nothing else, I had better hurry to Golden Mist Village. Every second more I waste could be the life of my countrymen slipping away. If you''ll excuse me.¡± Kael nodded at Varrus, then left to collect Jan''alai.
The muscular Troll girl was laughing boisterously, and repeatedly sticking one finger into her other hand, and gesturing widely.
Syra held a hand to her mouth, and was politely laughing. When Jan''alai was begrudgingly dragged away from Kael, Syra flashed him a lewd grin, then disappeared from sight.
A moment later, Varrus felt a smooth, invisible hand slip into his robe, and grip his shaft.
Glancing around, he noticed the tent was empty.
Feeling a hot breath tickle his ear, and a smooth palm working his tip, Varrus lost himself to the moment.
The sound of the conjured tent despawning reached his ear, and he snapped his eyes open to find himself surrounded by Rho''dan, and the rest of his House.
¡°Are we ready to depart, Highlord?¡± Rho''dan questioned.
Varrus gently elbowed Syra, yet she didn''t stop. If anything, her speed increased!
¡°Ha ha¡not yet, we must rest! Tell everyone to continue cleaning their gear, and set up a perimeter. The constant battling has taken a toll on me, and I must recuperate!¡± Varrus loudly exclaimed, barely keeping his voice from fluctuating.
Rho''dan eyed him for a second longer than usual, seemingly suspicious, before he saluted, and went to carry about his tasks.
Varrus sighed in relief, and was about to admonish Syra, when he felt his robe lift, and the moist warmth of a hot mouth, and twisting tongue fell upon his tip.
¡°Oy, Syra!¡± Varrus whispered, and looked around nervously, yet felt the pressure mounting as he was close.
In response, Syra licked his balls, and began to jerk him at insane speeds.
Varrus was in a hurry to finish, and let it all out.
Before the sticky white semen could dirty his robes, Syra stuck her mouth on his head, and slurped everything up.
¡°Now do me next.¡± Syra whispered, and released her invisibility.
Seeing her lick her finger clean, Varrus lost himself in the moment. Looking left and right, he grabbed her, and Blinked away to some bushes before casting an Invisibility spell on himself.
Damn, this kink of hers was wild, but the excitement was real!
Glancing at her perfect ass invitingly wiggling from side to side, Varrus couldn''t contain himself, and got to work!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter 94
Two weeks had passed since Varrus & company had defeated Tenris.
During those two weeks, the rest of the Ghostlands-with the exception of Deatholme-were purged of most Scourge minions and lesser creatures.
Each separate army liberated several sizable villages, and dozens of hamlets, rescuing the few thousands of Highborn that had secluded themselves during the initial invasion. Sadly, there were many more Wretched than ordinary Blood Elves amongst the survivors, only serving to point out the importance of the Sunwell to all involved.
As for Syra and Varrus, they had reclaimed two locations known as the Sanctums of the Sun & Moon.
From Varrus''s POV, they were lightly guarded structures, lacking in both Heroes and Elites. When he rolled up with the 7 out of 9 Heroes that comprised House Vandercross, the few thousand mindless Undead roaming about the place were like fodder for their blades.
Interestingly, Lana''thel never once emerged from Deatholme over the last two weeks, allowing each Blood Elven forces to easily complete their objectives.
Thanks to their efforts, Telonicus was able to install two Rune Stones at the Sanctums. As a result, the corrupted forest was forced to become inert.
Before, if one wanted to traverse the woods, decayed roots, and poisonous flowers would emerge from the undergrowth, and snag any would-be passerby. However, the awesome anti-magic effects of the Rune Stones pulsed across the surrounding areas, and disrupted the range of control coming from Deatholme.
In effect, the forest was safe once more, allowing for the various armies to travel across the land with impunity.
During those two weeks, Varrus spent little time on the field, and instead had been busy grinding levels, making Mana Stones, and crafting gear.
In anticipation of sieging Deatholme, he had created hundreds of Dwarven Autocannons, tens of thousands of enchanted bricks, and had studied the schematics necessary to create Arcane Golems.
By creating the golem one piece at a time-such as the boots, chest, gauntlets, etc-Varrus mimicked the manufacturing process of Earth, and assembled all the parts together at the end with a spell.
Built from iron and moonstone, these golems were not very resistant compared to traditional High Elven constructs, and could be damaged from magic, or explosives.
However, where he lost out in quality, Varrus more than made up for it in quantity.
If the traditional High Elven golems numbered around 5-10,000 across the entire kingdom, and were being produced at a rate of 25-50 new golems a week, then Varrus''s numbers roughly matched that total figure after just two weeks of effort!
He had made 12,000 iron golems, and 2,000 glass armored golems! These 9ft tall armored creations were powered by Mana Stones, and had a max speed of 15mph. Not exactly the most threatening on the surface, but they were immune to musket fire, and basic weapons. The only threat to them beyond explosives or magic, would be if they were caught in pits, or surrounded by a mob of hammer/pick wielding foes. Otherwise, they were an unstoppable menace that never hungered, never tired, and always obeyed commands.
As a resource disdained by Elves, Varrus was given free reign over all iron productions. Whilst he could be using it for construction, such as nails, or for armor meant for Humans, Varrus deemed such uses as pointless for the time being. While true, he had supplied a few shipments of armor alongside food via sail in the past, and would continue to do so, this iron was
Thanks to the Skyrim UI, and his method of instantaneous crafting, the only thing holding him back were the lack of supplies.
For one, it was difficult to create so many Mana Stones to supply the golems, the cannons, and the mana addiction plaguing the rest of Quel''Thalas. Secondly, there were only so many workers in the mines.
The Kobolds were hard at work, and had been gifted equipment personally forged and enhanced by Varrus, but in such a short time, their production still wasn''t enough.
Varrus could only be satisfied with what he had, as he knew the longer time progressed, the stronger his economy would flourish. One day, there would be a time when millions of iron golems strode the streets. They would become as ubiquitous as AK-47''s, or Toyota pickup trucks. Mobile, cheap weapons of death that projected Highborn might across every continent.
The addition of the Kobolds was proving to be of significant impact. Varrus was excited to recruit both Humans and Goblins to his banner, as they would likely contribute just as much, or more to his burgeoning empire.
But of course, there was more to the last two weeks than gathering supplies, forging armor, and building an army.
Many meetings were held, and a plan had been formed.
Varrus, alongside the combined forces loyal to Silvermoon had gathered outside Deatholme, and placed the city under siege.
Taking inspiration from Julius Caesar, Varrus had constructed a large fortress just outside the range of Deatholme''s Arcane Towers.
He then set up some towers of his own, constructed from enchanted bricks, and placed dozens of autocannons within.
With Telonicus''s help, many Mana Stones were converted into shield generators, preventing the towers from easily falling to enemy firepower.
At the end of the day, dozens of towers, packed to the brim with autocannons surrounded Deatholme, and were spewing a constant deluge of fireballs at the city''s shields. Whilst all along the Elven line, giant Mana Crystals were positioned at key points, ready to absorb any attributed attack that might get past the towers.
Thanks to Varrus¡¯s never ending mana supply, the plan was to starve out the enemy reserves, and deplete the energy on their shields. Once that was accomplished, they would bombard the Undead from a distance until they were nothing but mush. Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.
Should the Undead attack them head on, they would be met with a fortress, and towers waiting for them.
To facilitate this plan, all that was required by the attackers, was to change out the Mana Stones every few hours, and they could fire relentlessly at the Scourge defenders.
Ultimately, it was a diabolical plan, and one that Varrus thanked the devious mind of the Romans for hatching.
And so, Varrus found himself chilling in a bare bones room overlooking the siege through a window. Syra was off doing who knew what, and he was busy constantly spewing out Mana Stones.
It was a boring task, but was slightly mitigated by enchanted instruments playing melodies from his life back on Earth.
During this grind, Varrus was humming along to a song, when suddenly he felt an ominous thrum in the air.
Blood red clouds spread across the sky, and he felt his skin crawl, as if a worm or insect was moving around inside his flesh.
Rubbing his arms together, Varrus looked out towards Deatholme, and pursed his lips.
It appeared some sort of grand ritual was taking place.
¡°Rho''dan, prepare for battle.¡± Varrus commanded through his scrying orb, and sent his forces on high alert.
Their days of boring, and safe siege warfare were soon to end it seemed.
Whatever Lana''thel was cooking up in there, set Varrus on edge.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Within the confines of Deatholme, Lana''thel was pacing within her grand hall in worry.
Her typically perfect hair was a mess, and claw marks had gouged out artwork lining the walls.
The place was eerily empty, and seemed to resonate with every fear fueled stomp of her steps.
¡°My Queen. It is confirmed. Tenris is dead.¡± Ariel, the former Ranger Captain, and Queen''s lover spoke as she entered the hall.
¡°Dead, dead, dead, they''re all dead.¡± Lana''thel muttered madly to herself as she continued to pace.
¡°Not all of your children, Your Majesty. The youngest, Valanar, has seen to Deatholme''s defenses, and rallied the troops.¡± Ariel said soothingly.
¡°Troops? What troops? Tenris has taken more than half of our forces, and squandered them! Meanwhile, the Ghostlands have been purged of our presence. As we speak, dozens of towers have been constructed outside of these walls, and are constantly bombarding the city shields. We are sitting here, waiting to die!¡± Lana''thel paused in her pacing and turned to Ariel with a mad laugh.
¡°Surely we can call upon reinforcements from the south. The Legion, and the Dreadlords-¡±
¡°The Dreadlords south of us are disloyal to Tichondrius, and I have yet to receive word from our master for over two weeks now. I suspect they were defeated by the Night Elves once again. We are on our own.¡± Lana''thel laughed pitifully at herself, then resumed her pacing.
¡°Then perhaps it is time for us to forsake the Legion, and call upon a different power, and old and dark power.¡± Ariel followed after Lana''thel during her pacing, and slinked to her side.
¡°What do you mean?¡± Lana''thel flinched at her lover''s touch, yet the cool hands stroking her hair calmed her down.
¡°Back, long before we had even become Night Elves, in a time forgotten by most, our people were Trolls.¡± Ariel began.
Lana''thel wore an offended look upon her face, yet even she knew this was truth.
¡°And?¡± Lana''thel regained some of her former grandeur, and primky demanded. The mere suggestion of being related to a Troll affronted her sensibilities, like any prim and proper Elf should respond.
¡°The world was much more volatile back then. We clung to religion to survive more so than anything else. We worshiped anything that would help us, from Elementals to wild Loa, to the stars in the sky. Even beings residing within the Twisting Nether and beyond¡¡± Ariel said in a hushed whisper.
¡°Enough with the drama Ariel, what is it you are trying to say? Who is this master you wish me to pledge myself to? What cost is so high that you speak to me in riddles, and sybillant soliloquies?¡± Lana''thel snapped her fingers, and turned to the Ranger in a demanding tone of voice.
¡°But of course, Your Majesty.¡± Ariel bowed.
¡°He goes by many names: The Harvester of Souls, the Lord of Lies, the Father of Coldharbor.¡± Ariel spoke in a hushed whisper, each title uttered was spoken with great respect.
¡°Come now, Ariel, we are already deceased, damned for all time. You haven''t even spoken this creature¡¯s name. How can I take you seriously?¡± Lana''thel fixed her hair, and glanced at Ariel like she was the crazy one.
¡°He is the God of Brutality.¡± When Ariel spoke the epitaph, Lana''thel felt the blood in her body wriggle, as if it had come alive for a moment.
Blinking her eyes, the Undead Queen thought she felt a pulse in her long dead heart.
¡°You felt it.¡± Ariel factually stated in a tone that brooked no disagreement.
Lana''thel walked to a window, and looked outside to her city as she mulled over Ariel¡¯s words.
Many Darkfallen were busily making wild-animalistic love to one another, or playing with blood. Most of the useful, and ambitious among her ranks had followed Tenris. What remained were largely civilians with little to no combat experience. The sight of them served as a stark reminder that she didn''t have much going for her. Only her youngest son, and a small cadre of Heroes were of any use, the rest were useless. Furthermore, the only thing holding this city together was the massive Undead World Tree, Tha''salah, and her treants.
Looking beyond her city streets, she saw dozens of towers on the horizon. The boy-Vandercross had constructed them two days ago, and was constantly bombarding Deatholme from a distance with cannons.
Lana''thel had tried to sortie out, and deal with them, however, the structures had explosives hidden in the land nearby, and an army was camped outside the walls providing covering fire.
It was a hopeless situation that saw her turtle up within the city. All she could do was wait on reinforcements that would never come, that, or a miracle¡
¡°...what is the price this so-called deity demands for his blessing? What powers can I expect that will aid us in vanquishing our enemy.¡± Lana''thel reluctantly turned back to Ariel.
¡°The Lord is a master of necromancy, and blood magic. His patronage goes hand in hand with the natural gifts granted to us as Darkfallen. Your mastery over hemomancy is artistic, my Queen. With his help, it would advance to the next tier.¡± Ariel spoke with a quiet intensity.
Lana''thel liked the sound of that. All her life, she had been mediocre. Her talent in magic, archery, swordsmanship, crafting, it was all so pitiful. All she had going for her was a pretty face, and a powerful family name.
It wasn''t until she became Darkfallen that she realized her true calling was hemomancy. She took to blood magic like a duck to water.
Beauty had its benefits, that was to be certain, but many at court had viewed her as an airhead. As nothing more than garnish to the Sunstrider legacy!
She wanted more, and tried to exert her influence through her children, yet that man went behind her back, and made love with her sister!
Being beautiful wasn''t enough. She wanted more.
¡°What is the price, sweet Ariel?¡± Lana''thel''s gaze bore down upon her lover and closest confidant.
¡°You must give your body to Him.¡± Ariel reluctantly replied. She had a guilty look upon her face, and looked away in shame as she spoke.
¡°Oh precious Ariel, is that all? I had given myself to a man I did not love for thousands of years. What is a night with an extraplanar being?¡± Lana''thel lifted Ariel''s chin, and planted a kiss on her lips.
¡°He also demands a sacrifice in both souls and blood. Shall I round up the layabouts?¡± Ariel grinned back at Lana''thel.
¡°Those vermin? Please do so. And Ariel, I know this must pain you, but thank you for all you have done for me. We will rule all of Quel''Thalas. Together.¡± Lana''thel called out to Ariel as the Ranger Captain was about to leave the hall.
¡°Thank you, my Queen. I shall be back shortly, and we will put this ritual behind us.¡± Ariel nodded, then went about her business.
Lana''thel ran a tired hand through her hair as she looked out the window at the enemy towers once more.
She had been receiving missives from Faedra this entire time, urging her to surrender. If she was being honest with herself, Lana''thel wanted to surrender as soon as she lost contact with the Legion.
However, she had served as eye-candy for so long, she wanted to be Queen not only in name, but in truth too.
The fact that her own sister had betrayed her, and raised a new heir to the throne did not help either. Just because she did not love Anasterian, did not mean that Faedra was free to steal what was hers!
Lana''thel began to clean herself up, and apply some makeup. Beauty ensnared the King of all Elves. Beauty would be her weapon against this deity.
It may be a vile transaction, but Lana''thel planned on taking everything that she could. Few if any could match her natural grace and charm. And if her efforts resulted in any additional boons? Well, that was simply good business.
Whatever this Molag Bal had to offer, she would take everything he had, and more. If she could seduce a monarch, then it was only right that a god be next.
Glancing at the enemy army one last time, Lana''thel took a deep breath, and hardened her resolve.
Quel''Thalas would be hers.
Chapter 95
Three more days had passed since the dark ritual over Deatholme had begun.
The sky was black with clouds tinted with a red hue. It almost reminded Varrus of the effect Auriel¡¯s Bow had in Skyrim when a blood tipped arrow was shot into the air.
When Varrus first saw this phenomenon, he had cast Change Weather, however, whenever he cleared the sky, the clouds would come back with a rumble. No matter how many times he tried to clear the air, it was pointless.
As any fan of games/anime knew, sitting around and waiting for an enemy to complete their transformation was the height of stupidity.
However, with the barrier in place, there were 3 options available to Varrus to disrupt the ritual.
1) stealth/assassination
2) full frontal assault
3) bombardment
Varrus chose not to go on a stealth mission this time around due to the extreme amount of branches, and vines littering the ground. Based upon scouting reports, Varrus knew that the slightest tremor could alert the enemy to his presence. So even if he was invisible, he didn''t want to chance an infiltration, only to be discovered, and dogpiled by an entire army.
Next was the option of a direct assault.
Now, of course, the Blood Elven forces could have physically entered the range of the walls, like the Undead did at Tranquillien, and tried to disrupt the ritual ASAP. However, Varrus had neither the expendable manpower, nor the inclination to undertake such a risk. No, he¡¯d rather take the safe bet, and pound away at Deatholme until he could crack the citywide shield like an egg.
Since he couldn¡¯t disrupt whatever ritual was taking place within the fortress city in a short time frame without incurring massive risks, Varrus decided he would conduct the siege the best way he could.
With direct attacks!
Situated atop the adhoc fortress made from the spell, Raise Wall, Varrus had been spell slinging like he never had before.
For three long days, all Varrus knew was attack. He relentlessly swapped between Forbidden Sun, Lightning Storm, and Apocalypse in an effort to put a stop to whatever plot Lana¡¯thel had going down.
Large, vibrant balls of fire came crashing down one after another. Massive beams of lightning crackled endlessly, and pulsed against the barrier. Finally, the awe inspiring power of the Apocalypse spell brought down frost, flame, and lightning in a never ending torrent of destruction.
At the same time, the turrets Varrus had put in place were blasting away, chipping at the citywide defense one explosive fireball at a time.
Gradually, the barrier began to diminish in vibrancy, and was turning from a solid deep azure blue, to a light, almost translucent color. The time for an all out push was soon approaching. Varrus¡¯s game-sense was telling him that anything that had a change in color like that was on the verge of collapse.
Varrus felt like a madman with how many spells he had thrown at the shield, yet his actions had yielded results. It was almost time to breach the city. Then the slaughter could begin in earnest.
Halting his latest spell, Varrus knew that if he pushed much harder, the barrier would pop. He wanted to prepare all his forces before such an event occurred, as well as show Lana¡¯thel a little surprise.
Picking up his scrying orb, Varrus issued a general order to the various armies and groups.
[All forces mobilize. The citywide shield is about to burst. Prepare for attack!]
¡°Care for a cookie?¡± Syra came up to him with a tray, and offered a chocolate chip cookie.
Varrus blearily rubbed bagged eyes, and reached for a confectionery treat with a smile on his face.
¡°Mnm, egshelent as always, my love.¡± Varrus praised between bites.
¡°Are we almost ready to attack?¡± Syra eagerly asked, planting a kiss on Varrus¡¯s cheek.
¡°Yep, as soon as our troops move into place, we¡¯ll be all set.¡± Varrus nodded at Syra, then glanced down the wall he stood upon, and assessed the units gathering into formation below.
With the added Darkfallen under Nightsong, and the garrison force of Tranquillien in attendance, this was the largest army assembled under Silvermoon¡¯s banner since the Scourge first invaded several months ago. Approaching a number close to 100,000 Elves, more than a quarter of the entire population had mobilized for this grand event.
Close to 28,000 Arcane Golems took to the front, and over a thousand Dragonhawk Knights soared in the air.
Potions were being handed out left and right, in great supply, and priests were applying buffs to the masses. After many encounters within the forest against toxic trees and plants, anti-poison potions, and spells were prioritized.
For the upcoming battle, Kael¡¯Thas was in command of the left flank, Nightsong/Lor¡¯themar shared the right, and Varrus lead the center. With his command of the most Heroes, it was deemed that he would take the largest risk, and take the vanguard. Varrus was somewhat reluctant to be the target of focused fire, but the logic was sound. The soldiers with the best gear, and highest skill should be the ones to face the fiercest fighting.
Varrus took ahold of Syra¡¯s hand, and stared into her bright golden eyes once more, as had become his usual pre-battle ritual.
She squeezed back, and Varrus nodded.
This was it. Deatholme was the final bastion of Scourge resistance within Quel¡¯Thalas. Victory here meant they would be free to rebuild, and rearm their kingdom for the perils to come.
Varrus then attuned himself with his scrying orb, and then magically projected his voice, so it could be heard down below the fort. Stolen novel; please report.
¡°People of Quel¡¯Thalas, this is your First Seat, Varrus Vandercross speaking. Today is the last day the Scourge lay claim to this land. It is a day we will be telling in song and dance for generations to come! Be proud, children of Silvermoon! Be proud, for you stand on the cusp of total victory! Hold on to whatever emotion lies in your heart, whether that be anger, sorrow, or love, and let me hear you roar that emotion to the heavens, let the Scourge know of your defiance! Let them know who we are! Let them know we do not forgive, nor do we forget!¡± Varrus¡¯s voice boomed across the fields directly in front of Deatholme.
An incomprehensible roar of vengeance erupted from the throats of aggrieved Elves in response.
Varrus¡¯s Speech ability roused everyone''s morale, and Imposing Presence began to affect all who heard or saw him. During the event, he tossed out Call to Arms upon every friendly troop he could see, and applied all the buffs under the Illusion skill tree.
Raising his arms high, Varrus addressed the Elves eager for vengeance one last time.
¡°Your months of campaigning, of long hours suffering in silence, or training to relearn long lost skills has not gone unnoticed! Your sweat, blood, and tears have all culminated in this one final moment! People of Quel¡¯Thalas. Give. Them. HELL!¡± Varrus finished his speech with a drop of his hand.
A second later, hundreds of fully charged Mana Stones that were standing in place fell upon Acceleration Runes. Within a moment, roughly 250~ of the crystalline objects (worth half of his current reserves) zipped forward toward Deathome like a rain of comets.
The resulting explosion was so mighty, so cataclysmic, that Varrus began to worry that he may be too close to the impact. A bright white Arcane wave of energy spread out against the barrier in 360 degrees, and escaped in every direction encompassing at least 1-3 miles. Varrus could only sigh in relief when he saw the blinding white light stop just shy of his own line.
What an embarrassment, and tragedy would it be if he had nuked his own troops? Varrus idly thought to himself as he watched on in awe at the destructive force behind his attack. It was a highly inaccurate technique that took at least half an hour to set up, and was prone to self harm, but when he was presented with something stationary, he couldn¡¯t resist. There really wasn¡¯t anything quite like accumulating a ton of mana in one spot, and casting ¡®fuck everything in that general location.¡¯
Hissing snapping sounds escaped the barrier as it stretched and recoiled like a rubber band due to the impact. One moment it was there, the next, it was gone.
Varrus was eagerly watching the explosion like a kid witnessing their first firework. The amount of force expelled within seconds was simply captivating. It wasn¡¯t until he felt Syra¡¯s strong embrace from behind a second later, that he found himself almost knocked over by the shockwave. Where would he be if he didn¡¯t have her to look out for him? Varrus shook his head, and chuckled at himself, allowing a moment of levity to enter his heart.
He gave Syra an appreciative smile, then turned back to the battle so he could direct the fight.
As soon as the barrier dropped, it revealed a broken and depressed city. Deatholme was flanked and completely surrounded by mountains on all sides. The only way in or out was via a great wall. It was a massive wall that ran in a somewhat straight line, and stood at about 5-7 stories tall. A large section had been torn away at some point-likely due to the Scourge invasion-however, this gap was covered by a thick layer of impenetrable gnarled roots. In fact, the entire wall was covered in nasty plague ridden overgrowth so thick, that the wall mirrored a giant bushel of thorns. Sickly green and purple poisons dripped down the branches, and seeped from sallow flowers, pooling acidic water into a moat.
Behind it all, situated atop a hill, a massive skyscraper-sized tree that could compete with the Empire State Building in height roared down at them. The once sacred World Tree, Tha''salah, had been transformed into a treant in its undeath.
A thick miasmic fog of black spores fell down from the sky as it shook its branches.
Varrus quickly cast three Twisters at the wall in an effort to disrupt the spores.
While this was going on, he spared a moment of his concentration, and ordered the iron golems to take the lead.
The golems advanced into range of enemy turret fire within seconds, and began to take heavy casualties. Arcane Towers thumped down upon the golems. The powerful basketball-sized Arcane shots were enough to take out a limb, or melt a section off the construct. However, there were only 8 Arcane Towers, and thousands of iron golems. Whilst casualties were high, it was an acceptable loss.
[Cannoniers, aim for their towers. I have the two in the center.] Varrus commanded via scrying orb whilst he continued to counter Tha''salah''s plaguefilled attack.
A second later, hundreds of Arcane Cannons took position, and began to blast the enemy towers, as well as some archers positioned atop the city walls.
From Varrus¡¯s vantage atop his fortress, he swapped between countering Tha''salah and aiding his troops every other spell.
He began to drop Forbidden Sun after Forbidden Sun onto the towers. It took 5 casts of the Master tier Destruction spell to transform one tower into nothing more than smoking rubble, and molten slag.
[Highlord, there is an acid moat, it is impassable.] Rho¡¯dan messaged Varrus via scrying orb.
[I have it covered.] Varrus replied.
Casting the Expert Alteration spell, Fabricate Object, Varrus created a bridge between both sides of the moat. He then spammed it a few dozen times, making sure that his troops would not get bottlenecked on one bridge, or risk one bridge getting destroyed, and having his men be trapped on one side.
House Vandercross took to their role as vanguards in stride, and had crossed the bridge, only to be met with a precarious situation.
Gnarled brambles, and thick vines covered much of the walls. They were resisting magical attacks, and in turn, were lashing at his forces. Already, a dozen of his troops were badly poisoned by deep purple leaves blossoming, and spraying pollen into his lines. Priests and potions mitigated these effects, and those soldiers recuperated after a few minutes of rest, however, this development had completely stonewalled their advance!
Rho''dan, the Crossguard, and the Illidari Council were all Heroes capable of great feats, however, even with all their power, the massive bushel wall was insurmountable.
The power of Tha''salah was not to be underestimated!
¡°Can you break the wall?¡± Varrus questioned to his side, yet his gaze never once left the battle.
All his focus was spent on directing his forces, and tossing spells at Tha''salah from a distance.
In response, Varrus felt a soft hug from behind.
¡°Why ask which you already know?¡± Came Syra''s teasing reply.
A moment later, a sonic boom spread forth from Varrus''s location, and a blinding blur of purple and gold flashed towards the beleaguered Blood Elven line.
Within seconds, a terrifying horizontal crescent of Holy Void cut a gaping hole within the center of the wall. Branches tried to fill in the gap, yet the combo power ate away at the dead leaves leaving nothing but ash in its wake.
After a beat, Varrus''s army group cheered at the display of might, and entered the city!
Syra returned a second later, held Varrus from behind, and placed her chin on his shoulder.
Glancing out of the corner of his eye, he saw a face that was dying to be praised.
Varrus was about to do just that, when a combo of Phoenix Fire, and green Loa fire burnt away all the brambles on the left flank. Then the branches on the right flank retreated altogether as Nightsong performed some druidic magic.
Syra pouted at Varrus, and turned away with a sour expression.
Varrus chuckled, then picked Syra up, and tossed out his flying carpet.
¡°Don''t worry, we can still beat Kael and your new best friend.¡± Varrus chuckled.
Syra''s expression immediately brightened at the prospect of winning a competition.
Varrus rolled his eyes at her, then turned to address the surging armies.
¡°The walls of Deatholme have broken! Go! Fight! Kill! For Quel''Thalas!¡± Varrus''s voice boomed as he flew inside the city, and began to blast anything remotely dead looking.
¡°For Quel''Thalas!¡±
Chapter 96
As the army advanced, Varrus took in the scenery.
The city of Deatholme was a chaotic mess of crushed buildings, and repainted nonsense. It seemed that with their new unlife, many of the Darkfallen had spent their free time repainting buildings a combination of black, purple, and green. Lastly, skulls and other boney iconography were painted upon these structures.
Varrus could only cluck his tongue. It seemed that once you became Undead in this universe, your aesthetic taste completely shifted as well.
But besides the half ruined buildings, there was something different about Deatholme. That of course, was the copious amount of Undead treants clogging the streets!
Tens of thousands of tree-based creatures were charging at Varrus''s line in a hurry. Some were massive beings of wood and fury as tall as a school bus was long, whilst others were tiny beings made of leaves no larger than a human hand.
This tide of unholy nature collided with the front row of iron golems in an epic clash.
Metal shrieked as it bent at unnatural angles, and tree limbs snapped as the golems stomped, and tore into them with the strength of a vice-grip.
Varrus watched on as Rho''dan cleaved through a leg thick like a pillar, downing one of the treants, he then cut it in half with the help of his blades¡¯ fire enchantment, and dodge rolled the strike of another treant all within seconds. The spot where he had been standing a moment ago caved in, and Rho''dan got to work dispatching his new opponent.
Similar cases of dangerous close combat were being undertaken by warriors and paladins every second. Enchanted swords cleaved into thick wooden bodies, and blasts of Light came down upon the diseased trees, dealing super effective damage.
Mages rained constant Arcane Barrages, or led with Firebolts. Their AOE attacks proved instrumental in claiming the lives of the tiny foes running between everyone''s legs. Already, Varrus had seen one complacent Elf getting swarmed by the hand-sized leaf monsters, and had directed a message via scrying orb for the soldiers to pay special attention towards these seemingly harmless foes.
Continuing on the warfront, Rangers coated their arrows in a special potion, granting them fiery effects. Their massed missiles were then powered by their own mana upon release, and were able to penetrate deep within these wooden bodies, then explode inside with a fiery payload.
The tens of thousands of Undead treants were instantly reduced by a few thousand from this initial clash. On Varrus''s side, he also lost about a thousand iron golems, but he found the cost well worth it. Elven lives were precious, each one was the accumulation of a lifetime of skills, and was responsible for raising the next generation once he finally got a handle on the fertility crisis. He could not squander them.
However, mindless automata made of iron were the ideal cannon fodder. He wouldn''t mind if every single golem perished during this conflict, so long as Highborn casualties remained low. On the plus side, each and every one of them was recyclable!
Varrus looked on in pride as House Vandercross, armed in their thorium gear, and equipped with Common Soul Stone tier enchantments plowed through their superior numbered foe like it was nothing.
It was thanks to the army taking the lead that Varrus didn''t have to be worried about being surrounded by enemy Elites while he countered the constant pollen drifting on the wind. Whilst in an ideal world, he could bombard Tha''salah, the World Tree, from a distance like a WW2 howitzer, he was in a hurry to investigate, and put a stop to whatever ritual Lana''thel was cooking up. And so, his strategy was to advance alongside the army. Once they had dealt with the treants, he planned on using coordinated attacks to cut down this thorn in their side, and rush the former Queen.
The training, and superior equipment of House Vandercross was put to good practice in this conflict. Unlike Kael''s Sunfury, House Vandercross had remained largely at Silvermoon. There, they had been studying old tomes, learning Light-based magic under Dawnbringer, and were drilled by Heroes such as Rho''dan in the arts of war. As such, almost all of the combatants who took the field with him were Elites.
Even when faced against overwhelming numbers, House Vandercross maintained the line, and without Varrus''s direct interference were slowly, and steadily pushing up the hill towards their objective.
However, that pride in his people was quick to transform into worry as he heard a great rumbling shake the ground.
Massive roots began to emerge from underneath, and several mages were not quick enough, and were pierced from their backside up through their throats.
Plate wearing warriors and paladins survived thanks to the nature of their quality gear, and rangers dodged due to their nimbleness, but the mages/priests were unarmored, and unaccustomed to dodging. As a result, a dozen of Varrus''s backline were caught completely off guard by this development!
The blood in their veins was swiftly exsanguinated, as greedy vines supped upon their life''s ichor.
Varrus watched on in horror as these former colleagues-now little more than dried husks-become covered in vines and branches in some macabre ritual as they were transformed into freaky Elf-plant Undead hybrids!
A dozen mouths opened as one, and the creatures spoke in a creepy monotone.
¡°Become one with the soil. Join us.¡±
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
¡°Join us.¡±
¡°Join us.¡±
Before they could prattle on any further, and turn their former allies, the Illidari Council cut them down in a flash with both blade and fire.
This was little comfort to Varrus, because hundreds of roots were repeatedly going in and out of the ground, like some sick game of wack-a-mole. Already, Varrus had lost 24 men to this dangerous onslaught. All the while, the treants had renewed their assault on the front!
To make matters worse, the rumbling on the ground wasn''t stopping, but in fact, was increasing!
Ears twitching, Varrus picked up the sound of rushing water.
Glancing on the horizon, Varrus saw a golden surge of liquid pour from the deceased World Tree in a torrent.
No, not water, sap!
A tidal wave of sap was flowing down the hill, and would collide with his army within a minute, two at most!
¡°Syra, help with the roots! I have the syrup!¡± Varrus hurriedly told his wife.
Syra flashed him a smile, then jumped off the flying carpet, and dive bombed on one giant root. Her sword gleamed with purple-gold as she easily cleaved through the massive appendage. The unique brand of Holy Void burnt away at the root, causing it to ash within a minute of being sliced by her blade.
Her strength and speed allowed her to dodge every root strike coming her way, and within a few seconds, a dozen of the ambushing roots were demolished.
The rest of the roots seemed to take her as the primary threat, and about 200-300 blackened plague filled roots attacked her at once. Some were coated in slimy black gunk that had melted a handful of iron golems, and two Elves, others were bendable like rubber, and flung themselves at her at insane speeds.
Syra danced like a ballerina. Her every step was measured, and placed at the perfect spot to dodge the worst of it.
A front flip here transitioned into an overhead slice, clearing a dozen roots at once. A side roll there perfectly placed an iron golem in the direction of some black goop, buying her a second to reposition herself, and counterattack.
After some careful maneuvering, Syra had twisted and turned in such an odd way, the majority of roots had tied one another up! The World Tree was so focused on killing her, it had lost its way!
The roots began to tear at one another as they tried to escape the entanglement, but Syra wasn''t going to give them a chance!
Holding her buster sword like a baseball bat, she sliced into the massed group of roots, and then diced them into a fine pur¨¦¨¦.
Varrus saw all this go down whilst he was in the process of fortifying the front line in preparation for the wave of sap.
He spared Syra a smile while he was casting Raise Wall like a madman. He stacked the earthen works atop one another, and formed a dam that would hopefully halt the oncoming stream.
Varrus then created a gap in the wall, so that the liquid would have an outlet, and go down hill towards the toxic moat outside the city.
It wasn''t a moment too soon either, as the amber gold sap came crashing down upon the conjured earthworks. But what shocked Varrus, is that the virtual river''s worth of sap seemed to have a life of its own. The sticky substance clung to the earthworks, and began to scale up the vertical wall going against Varrus''s idea of physics.
What Varrus thought of as a clever plan to divert the stream had turned into a momentary setback.
Amorphis slimes with base intelligence were crawling out of the syrup like some sort of horror movie. The amber colored goo-men were flanked by hardened shells.
Varrus instinctively dropped a Forbidden Sun into the massive puddle, but it didn''t not achieve the desired result. Perhaps only 1/50th of the enemy pool sizzled out of existence as it was cooked by the massive fireball. He tried tossing a Mana Stone inside to see what happened, but it couldn''t absorb a thing. In fact, the goo devoured it, and not only healed itself, but grew larger than the damage he had dealt with Forbidden Sun!
During his worry over the surge of syrup, Varrus was still dealing with the pollen in the air, by constantly casting Twister, and now he also had to dodge razor sharp magical red leaves coming down from Tha''salah. The leaves were like bullets, and ranged from the size of a palm to that of a sedan. At first, they were gently fluttering in the air, like any normal leaf, then they took upon a sharp edge, and slightly ominous glow as they flew at him with a vengeance.
Thankfully the Twister spell disrupted most of these leaves, however the constant distractions made dealing with the sap situation more and more difficult!
Already, some of the lake of goo had spilled over his wall, and a few hundred iron golems had been caught up in their attack.
Arcane Explosions rocked the battlefield, as the golems fried and sizzled the goo-men, but the tidal wave of amber was just too much, and clogged up the golems¡¯ joints, then hardened, making movement all but impossible.
Several golems self-destructed, taking out piles of goo, yet it wasn''t enough.
Fire and Arcane rained upon them, yet it seemed to have little effect.
Varrus saw that his line was in serious trouble, and didn''t believe anyone else in his army group could handle such a large, liquid based attack.
It wasn''t until he saw a mage cast Frost Nova, that Varrus saw the solution to their current predicament. All the goo around that mage had frozen solid!
¡®Excellent! If I can''t burn my way out, I''ll simply freeze them!¡¯ Varrus happily thought to himself.
Without wasting any time, Varrus cast the Master tier Destruction spell, Frozen Orb a dozen times.
The orbs moved with a mind of their own as they hovered in and around the syrup. They radiated an aura of cold, and sprayed exploding ice spikes in all directions, freezing the surface level of the sap, and greatly slowing down its momentum..
This served as a stop gap measure intended to slow up the sap, and was soon followed up by another icy spell: Howling Blast.
Howling Blast was much shorter range than Frozen Orb, and served a different purpose. Where the orb was more of an aura, or active debuff, the blast was a relatively short range, wide area attack.
When Varrus unleashed the blast, he had to fly his carpet within a few feet of the oncoming tide. Thanks to the orbs slowing the goo down, Varrus was free to unleash blast after blast of concentrated cones of frost magic.
Ice shards formed on the sap, then became crushed into powder as his perks took effect.
Varrus breathed out a chill whoosh of air in appreciation for the cold. Snow blanketed the ground, and the sap had been halted.
Glancing down at his forces, they-with the help of Syra-had crushed the roots, and most of the treants.
Within this small victory, they were almost within spitting distance of the top of the hill.
There, both Tha''salah, and the fortress containing Lana''thel awaited.
He then took in both flanks, and saw that Kael and Nightsong/Lor''Themar had not met any serious setbacks. All 3 forces were preparing to collapse upon the World Tree as they continued their advance.
Syra took that moment to jump up on the flying carpet, and took Varrus into a hug from behind.
Varrus turned to appraise her, and made sure she was free from fatigue or injury.
His hands felt up her body, and he scowled as he saw a bruise on her palm.
Syra was quick to hide her hand behind her back, like a naughty child caught stealing a cookie.
¡°Ack, you''re going to drive me to an early grave with worry, woman.¡± Varrus muttered as he healed her with a spell.
¡°Someone told me to deal with the roots~¡± Syra playfully replied, and poked Varrus in the side of the ribs.
Varrus recoiled, as she touched upon one of his ticklish spots.
¡°Hey now, we have to focus. We''re already a little behind Kael and Jan''alai. If we delay anymore, they might get to the summit before us.¡± Varrus deflected another poke, and took Syra''s hand up to his lips for a kiss.
¡°Then what are we waiting for?!¡± Syra ripped her hand away, and pointed forward.
Varrus wiped some saliva from his lip as he missed his target.
He wanted to say something smarmy, but it really was his intention to speed things up. The blood red sky was really fucking creepy, and he had a weird feeling about this. The entire time they fought, they didn''t see a single Darkfallen, or even basic skeleton.
Just what in the hell was Lana''thel cooking back there?
Chapter 97
As Varrus neared the top of the hill, he had a clearer view of Tha''salah.
The massive Undead World Tree, once responsible for maintaining the local balance of nature, and spreading Life energy throughout the continent was now spreading disease and plague on a conceptual level. Its power rivaled that of a demi-god, and was an extremely serious threat.
Impaled on its branches were hundreds of spectral forms crying out in agony. Their ghastly wails begged for freedom, yet no such succor was granted.
With his Mana Sight, Varrus could see a transfer of energy from the ghosts¡¯ suffering feeding the tree. Whenever these souls underwent torment, they generated Death energy, supplying a never ending feedback loop of mana for Tha''salah.
By this point, the three armies had linked up, and were ready to do battle in full.
In addition to Kael''s forces, and Nightsong''s loyalists, the entirety of the Convocation had assembled for this operation.
For this final push, the grand host of Quel''Thalas consisted of over two dozen Heroes, more than ten thousand Elites, and tens of thousands of Common soldiers.
Leading the Monarchists, Kael was flanked by Jan''alai, Al''ar, Dranarus, Pathaleon, Allatrocx, Aethas Sunreaver, Magister Astalor Bloodsworn, High Astromancer Solarian, and several other members of the wise, bringing his Hero count up to 12.
Varrus led House Vandercross, and was followed by Syra, Rho''dan, the Crossguard (who when working together = 1 Hero), and the four members of the Illidari Council for a total of 8 Heroes.
The rest of the Convocation: Lor''Themar, Koren, Thaladred, Tae''thelon, Telonicus, and Liadrin also assembled, each representing their own faction of rangers, warriors, paladins, etc.
For Lor''Themar, he brought with him Halduron, while Liadran brought with her 3 veteran Blood Knights, making the Convocation forces add up to 10 Heroes.
Lastly, Nightsong had with her a pair of Heroic Death Knights amongst the Darkfallen forces.
In total, the Blood Elven host had assembled 33 Heroes for this assault!
When the left, right, and center flank came to attack Tha''salah, they were met by more of those queer Elf-plant Undead hybrids.
Vines held limbs together, and bark merged with bone to create a warped creature emanating a curious feeling of Life, Death, and Arcane magic.
Advanced versions of this perverted form flew in the sky. Hundreds of 9ft tall, moss green plant monsters that were more tree than Elf hovered in the sky.
Through his Mana Sight, Varrus saw that these flying creatures held a barely perceivable tether to the tree. It was a faint, black string of mana binding the two together. From his estimates, it appeared that the flying Elf-plants (which he would refer to as Vineslaves going forward for simplicity''s sake), were receiving a constant stream of power from Tha''salah.
Furthermore, the energy within these Undead abominations was resting somewhere between the average Elite, and the weakest Hero.
In effect, the tree was taking advantage of Elven biology-which allowed all Highborn to absorb any flavor of magic-and through the continuous supply of mana, had artificially created hundreds of pseudo-Heroes!
No words were spoken as all hell broke loose, and chaos erupted across the battlefield.
The remaining iron golems-numbering 4,000~ by this point-ran at the Vineslaves, only to have the majority of them get tangled up in roots and bramble.
Mages and priests followed along with Liadrin, and Astalor Bloodsworn to complete massive ritual spells.
The mages copied the spell that Rommath had once led them in against the Trolls, and conjured up a massive flaming Phoenix. Additionally, there were even more mages participating this time, and an entire host of lesser Phoenixes were called forth from the Elemental Plane.
These birds of life and fire clashed again and again with the Vineslaves in the air. Fire blasted from their beaks, and talons scorched along plagued hides. All the while, the Vineslaves replied with vicious attacks of their own. Nasty black gunk sprayed from their mouths, and their claw-like hands jutted outward with insane speeds.
Phoenixes cried as they fell to corrupting forces, only to be reborn one size smaller. The Vineslaves were not to be outdone, and every time one was burnt to ash, or feasted upon by a pack of the flaming birds, the unholy World Tree would pulse, and the tether connecting them would turn vibrant. Upon this transfer of energy, any destroyed Vineslave would quickly be reborn!
As for the priests, they had clasped their hands in prayer, and harmonized their voices into a hymn.
The otherworldly song raised Elven morale, and buffed all allies who heard it with stamina, speed, resistance against disease, and perhaps most importantly, a thin film of Holy Light that acted as a shield. It wasn''t much protection, but much like a person who got shot while wearing a bulletproof vest, whoever got hit would feel sore for days, or perhaps even pass out, but they could survive one hit that would otherwise be fatal!
Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.
Besides these too tier Elites going at it, regular Darkfallen who had been reinforced by the vines were shooting arrows at the Blood Elven line made from the corrupted wood of the World Tree. These black arrows carried a nasty disease, and had a penetrating power almost as good as mythril!
Scores of Blood Elf warriors had their shields dented, and crumpling into disrepair from the initial enemy volley. Paladins found that the aura''s of Light they projected constantly around their bodies did little to protect them from the Death infused arrows, and several dozen fell dead or injured due to their overconfidence in their blessings.
Lor''Themar and Halduron retaliated with focused fire of their own, and a war of sniping and counter sniping ensued between both sides.
Meanwhile, more and more treants were coming into existence as wood shavings fell off Tha''salah, spawning a new wave of enemies.
Rho''dan, Thaladred, and other Heroes amongst the warrior caste charged forward, and chopped into this wood, only to discover it was much tougher than the treants they had faced before.
Even though Rho''dan was equipped with a Master crafter thorium sword enchanted with a Grand Soul Gem, he found it difficult to cut into one of these treants crafted from a World Tree''s bark.
There were about two dozen of these massive treants, each one taking a singular Hero backed by a dozen Elites to take on.
There weren''t enough melee Heroes to tie them down, but that was when Telonicus''s cannons, and Varrus''s Dwarven turrets made an entrance.
Repositioned from their place in the towers outside Deatholme, hundreds of Elemental artillery pieces had caught up with the main host, and began to rain down hell upon these tough sons of bitches.
Wood shavings, and foul smelling lumber burned as large pieces of frothy, necrotic pulp was blown into the air.
Yet for all their artillery, it only slowed down the massive bark treants. They were only seconds away from bypassing the warriors, and were about to take on the mages and priests conducting their ritual!
When Varrus thought he would have to intervene, Tae''thelon chose that moment to make his entrance.
Piloting from within the chassis of a massive golem made from the hauberk of the Titan Keeper Tyr, Tae''thelon rode into battle from inside a relic of ancient power.
The former Headmaster, and current leader of the Reliquary, wielded a massive two handed sword affixed with an Ice enchantment, and brought it down upon the first giant treant he came across.
Ice and Death energies collided in a massive bang. Snow, frost, and plague spread to the nearby surroundings, and a light layer of black snow fell upon the land as they clashed.
A deep furrow had carved in the land due to the bright blue mana held within the massive enchanted sword, and had frozen half of the treant into a solid block of ice. One gnarled claw caught the blade when it came down for another strike.
¡°Die, filth.¡± Tae''thelon''s arrogant voice magically boomed from within the armored golem.
The giant ice blade jiggled back and forth, yet Tae''thelon could not get it free. At the same time, two more massive treants were flanking his left and right, their claws glowed ominously under the crimson clouds in the sky as they made their approach.
Tae''thelon now seemed to be jiggling his sword in a hurry, yet seemed to refuse his hold on the blade. Whether that was from pride or arrogance, Varrus had no clue, and had little time to intervene as he was busy countering pollen, otma constant barrage of sharpened leaves.
When Varrus thought that Tae''thelon might find his demise, Telonicus emerged from a portal, and stood atop the armored golem''s head.
¡°Make sure to reimburse me 10 Mana Stones for this.¡± The Royal Engineer spoke as if he was conducting a business transaction, then with the press of a button on a remote, he walked back into the portal, disappearing from sight.
¡°Telonicus?¡± Tae''thelon shouted in confusion.
¡°Telonicus!¡± He shouted again, as that confusion was quick to transform into outrage as seemingly nothing happened.
A treant managed to close the gap in that time, and was scraping at the enchantments on Tae''thelon''s armor, when a white beam of pure concentrated Arcane energy poured down from the sky like a laser from the Death Star.
The treant caught in the direct path of the blast survived for a few seconds, and tried to resist the attack by raising a wooden shield to the sky.
¡°Raising force by 15%.¡± Telonicus''s clinical voice called out.
The beam brightened for a second, then completely ashed the treant.
Blinking spots out of his eyes, Varrus caught sight of a miniature floating platform very slowly levitating above the battlefield.
¡®The sonuvabitch listened to my suggestion!¡¯ Varrus internally praised.
Back during the council meeting to determine their path forward, Varrus had brought up to Telonicus the idea of creating mobile platforms. He had been inspired by the floating city of Dalaran, and if some Human mages could do it, then surely it was possible for the Elves?
Three months had gone by, and not a word from their resident Grandmaster Engineer. Then the damned lovable nerd came out with this of all things!
Varrus, having caught the situation out of the corner of his eye, was amazed by the development. The two researchers had been bleeding him dry, constantly begging for Mana Stones to conduct experiments with. If this is what Telonicus was doing in his free time between constructing Rune Stones, and manufacturing Mana Cannons, then by the Light, Varrus was pleased!
¡°Very good, now the other one, Telonicus!¡± Tae''thelon arrogantly commanded, and gestured towards the other treant closing from his right.
¡°The cool down period is 5 minutes, and costs 10 Mana Stones per shot.¡± Telonicus rattled off from a safe distance as if he was discussing the weather.
Varrus choked on his spit at Telonicus¡¯s response.
¡°Damn it all to hells!¡± Tae''thelon''s boomed angrily, and finally let go of his sword.
The treant flanking him was caught by surprise as the armored golem''s hand took on an icy hue similar to the sword, and when they made contact, the treant was covered in patches of ice, and after a few well placed punches, had broken into chunks and pieces of broken ice and snow.
Varrus raised an eyebrow at Tae''thelon''s general stupidity, and returned his attention back to the battlefield.
Kael¡¯Thas, alongside Jan''alai, unleashed a scorching flame directly onto Tha''salah, whilst Nightsong had transformed into a massive Red Dragon, and was fighting with both flame and claw against Tha''salah''s branches.
The World Tree screeched, and a wave of decay pulsed outward.
Powerful air currents moved in tune with this sonic x spiritual attack, causing Varrus to lose his balance on his flying carpet, and fall to the ground.
Casting Drop Zone, Varrus and Syra safely made a landing.
Kael and Jan''alai had also been grounded, whilst Nightsong was nowhere to be seen.
Looking up from his position, he witnessed a wide maw, and two creepy eyes snap open from the World Tree.
Untold roots snapped and cracked as the ancient awakened from its slumber. Syrup weeped from its eyes, and drooled forth from its mouth, spilling towards Varrus and the rest of the army in a tidal wave.
He was forced to deal with it by freezing the liquid like last time, however, by casting Frozen Orb a dozen times to counter this development, he was unable to aid his teammates!
He could only catch glimpses towards the wider battlefield, and he finally caught sight of Nightsong!
Within two thick branches shaped like arms, the Red Dragon-Nightsong-was battling for her life!
Sap traveled along the branches, and hardened around her scales, diseased thorns constantly poked her scales, searching for a weakness, and paralytic pollen from Tha''salah was constantly being sprinkled upon Nightsong from ominous looking flowers.
To top things off, a blood rain began to pour down from the clouds, and a boom rang out from within the nearby castle.
A massive surge of power and mana sent the earth roiling, like a rollercoaster, and the scent of blood permeated the air.
Bloody mists, and red colored fog wooshed in every direction.
Emerging from the keep, an otherworldly vampiric Elven beauty stood upon a balcony looking down. Flanking her was a similarly beautiful ranger, a handsome Darkfallen druid, and a patchwork abomination with the faces of ten thousand Darkfallen Elves stitched together in agony.
The mana fluctuating from these four beings was out of this world, and Varrus hadn''t even taken out Tha''salah yet!
Reaching out to tightly grip Syra''s hand, Varrus took a deep breath in worry.
The final battle for Quel''Thalas had well and truly begun.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
AN: Read 25 chapters ahead at: Karp pa tr eon
Chapter 98
Bloody rain pinged off metal hauberks, and sizzled as it collided with the barrier of Light shrouding the Elven host.
The mixture of purity and filth sounded like butter frying on a skillet. At the same time, the classic sound of rain hitting metal served as the backdrop for what horrors began to unfold.
This bloody rain created a thick, roiling fog. Varrus speculated that they had walked straight into a trap when he saw some shadowy figures moving about from within.
Mostly, this was in line with the thought that during the entire siege, there had not been one sighting of the Darkfallen.
Before this ambush, Varrus had concluded that they were used for some profane ritual. The meatball resting besides Lana''thel-created from the stitched faces-was a clue supporting that theory.
However, Deatholme was the provincial capitol. There should be thousands, no, tens of thousands of Darkfallen lurking nearby.
It was due to this line of thinking, that had Varrus reassess the current situation, and scan all around him for any conclusive signs of the missing Darkfallen. One spot lacking in any fog began to shake and rumble. The dirt was parting, and from it, Undead were emerging!
Varrus had a sudden revelation. The enemy had been buried all around them this entire time! Lana''thel had capitalized on the fact that the Undead had no need to breathe!
The blood rain was acting as a sort of wake up call, rousing this group of Darkfallen out from the soil, and empowering them with an unholy power.
When Varrus finally got a good look at one, he grimaced.
Whatever Lana''thel had done to the former denizens of this city had left them looking drained, and vampiric. Where Nightsong, her troops, and even Tenris had appeared intelligent, and of decent looks similar to Sylvanas, these Darkfallen looked like what an Undead Wretched would appear as.
In short, these deformed, ashen skinned creatures were emerging from the dirt numbering in the tens of thousands all around them.
The Highborn armies were surrounded on all sides as the former Queen and her entourage stood atop a balcony looking down.
The entire Elven line had gone quiet as this incredible ambush and debacle unfolded. The victory over the treants seemed like a long forgotten memory as more and more of these starved, mindless Wretched Darkfallen crawled their way out of shallow graves.
Blood rain splattered upon their decayed faces, and filled them with a glow. One after another, the Wretched Darkfallen grew talons, and tattered wings on their backs. Their veins pulsed black, and their sclera were dark like a bottomless abyss.
Varrus wasn''t one to wait around for a transformation, or for an enemy to adjust their strategy without a reaction, but this sudden emergence had happened all around him within a handful of seconds. He couldn''t put a stop to this anymore than a regular man could halt a tsunami!
Whilst this was going down, Nightsong was fighting for her life within Tha''salah''s grip. Every second wasted meant her life was in peril. Standing still and letting the enemy take the initiative went against everything Varrus stood for.
He had to do something, and fast, otherwise his group would lose all hope.
Varrus squeezed Syra¡¯s hand one more time, then activated Apotheosis.
The perk that he held in reserve to end a fight, or win with overwhelming firepower had been unleashed as a desperate hail merry to seize the initiative, and regain the lost morale due to this stunning ambush.
Within seconds of activating Apotheosis, the various Restoration perks attached to Warriors Flame spread all throughout Varrus''s line of sight.
Every ally and enemy nearby was coated in the golden shroud.
For those who he considered friendly, their stamina was rejuvenated, and wounds healed at an astonishing rate.
As for the blood drenched Darkfallen, they began to smoke and burn. A few fell to their deaths, turning into a pile of ashes.
However, the haunting voice of Lana''thel sang a spell that echoed with an unholy beauty.
Her magic sang throughout the battlefield, and the blood rain danced to her melody.
Shrouds of sanguine coated the Warriors Flame, and doused it with ease.
Varrus blinked his eyes in shock and surprise. This was the first time a system ability had been directly countered in such a blatant manner.
His shock led to hesitation, and it wasn''t until he saw Syra block an orb of foul blood that he woke up from his fugue.
Her sword cleaved the tainted vicar in half, then exploded it from within thanks to her powers over the Unholy Void.
Glancing up, Varrus noticed that Lana''thel continued to sing her spells, and various attacks began to manifest from the bloody rain.
To Varrus''s right, he saw one such attack hit a pair of rangers. As a result, they lost their protective shielding provided by the priests. Without the Light shield, the rain ate away at their flesh, and they melted like the Nazi''s in Indiana Jones when they opened the Ark.
The smell of their fluids, and the sight of their remains mixing with the red rain pooling at Varrus''s boots had him sick to his stomach.
Goo and other body parts soon permeated the hill leading up to Tha''salah as Wretched Darkfallen, alongside profane spells stripped one Elf after another of their protective shields.
Syra was cutting through the rain at super speeds, protecting Varrus from harm, yet only seconds had passed, yet over 1,000 Sin''Dorei had been slain.
This entire time, Tha''salah had not remained idle, and roots had continued to spear up from the dark depths. Elves were attacked on all sides, from the sky, as well as from below. The situation was untenable. Something had to be done, or they would be hemorrhaging 1,000 Elves every minute.
A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
Balling his hands into fists, Varrus took all this in, and reminded himself that arrogance had its price, yet the time for reflection was later. Composing his roiling emotions, he willed himself to action!
¡°To me, House Vandercross! Rally! Rally sons and daughters of Quel''Thalas!¡± Varrus cried out to his forces, and began to cast Infinite Light in all directions.
The beam of light bounced between allies, and damaged enemies.
Varrus scowled as he noticed his Master tier Restoration spell-one that was super effective against Undead-was taking 5-10 seconds to ash just one of these super juiced Darkfallen. Ordinarily, he should be able to annihilate any Common Undead in 1-2 seconds, making power washing this group a simple exercise.
However, due to the blood rain, and Lana''thel buffing her trash mobs, these ordinarily lackluster Wretched Undead had transformed into tanky berserkers.
Next, he cast Mayhem on them in an attempt to cause some chaos in their ranks, but the protection from the blood magic prevented them from being affected by the Master tier Illusion spell.
Varrus had never before seen such a ravenous, and bloodthirsty enemy that could resist his magic so effortlessly. These Wretched Darkfallen put the ghouls to shame when it came to hunger, and unlike those slobbering monsters, had the grace and agility of an Elf. Combine this natural talent with the constant buff from Lana''thel''s blood magic, and they were a threat like no other. From Varrus''s perspective, it was as if he was surrounded by tens of thousands of apex predators.
Fortunately his wife had reacted quickly and their losses, while heavy for an Elven army, were not catastrophic.
After taking action, Varrus began to bring his forces into a tighter formation, and regained some ground after their initial loss due to the surprise attack.
Things had stabilized at his position, but that didn''t mean he could afford to sit on his hands, and hope to exhaust the enemy, or win through attrition.
As long as the tree had those souls in its branches, and the blood poured down, the mana available to these two raid bosses was virtually limitless.
Taking a moment to breathe, and think, he had to quickly consider his options.
He could support Lor''Themar/the Convocation forces on the right flank, and relieve Nightsong, then take out Tha''salah.
Or he could join up with Kael on the left flank and aim for the castle, and Lana''thel.
On one hand, the roots and pollen coming from the World Tree were a serious detriment, however, these buffed Darkfallen were going absolutely crazy within this blood rain. Coming to the conclusion that Lana''thel has to die, Varrus cast one last glance at Nightsong''s beleaguered form, and felt his heart tighten.
¡°Syra, Rho''dan, serve as our vanguard. Illidari, secure our flanks and buy time. Telonicus, Tae''thelon, keep up what you''re doing. Everyone else, form up behind us. We advance towards the mad Queen!¡± Varrus''s voice boomed towards his line.
Before he could reach her, however, he would have to deal with thousands of these creatures. Identifying the blood rain as the major source of his troubles, Varrus thought up a few ways he could take it out. Change Weather wasn''t any good, however, an idea came to mind. Blood was a liquid, just like the sap from earlier!
Without delay, Varrus started spamming Frozen Orb into and above the sea of ravenous Darkfallen surrounding them like it was going out of style.
He had recognized that the giant block of ice was the perfect fire and forget spell. Where most of his magic had an immediate effect, lasting just a couple seconds after being cast, Frozen Orb was different. It lasted for minutes, and acted as the perfect AOE weapon in his arsenal.
Slick sanguine rain froze midair, and dropped to the ground, only to be merged with slush and snow instead of falling upon the waiting Darkfallens open mouths.
The result was extraordinary.
These troublesome foes that were like a raging Hulk when buffed by this thick blood rain, became almost like twigs when bereft of the sanguine substance.
¡°Do not hesitate, House Vandercross, seize upon their weakness!¡± Varrus prompted.
Not needing to be told twice, his Elites began to cut into the weakened Darkfallen like a man hacking into styrofoam.
It would seem that these mutated Darkfallen were extra strong when buffed, but as soon as the tap was cut, they would transform into dried out husks. They wilted, and were significantly less energetic, much like a plant without water.
Rho''dan fought in sync with the Crossguard at the forefront, and claimed over a hundred lives in this breakout push. Before, these Heroes had trouble slaying a dozen Wretched Darkfallen over the span of a couple minutes.
If even Heroes like Rho''dan had trouble, then it could be said the Common tiers amongst his forces had trouble staying alive! However, with the rain mitigated, even his lesser forces could snap through the enemy like a child snaps a pencil!
Syra wasn''t overly affected whilst the enemy was buffed, as her magic had an annihilation type of effect. However, once the rain no longer was a factor, her kill count quickly ballooned into the thousands. Her sword swiped so fast, and with such efficiency, that she was like a perpetual motion device.
Unstoppable!
Seeing the remarkable outcome of Frozen Orb, Varrus was internally grateful that he hadn''t locked himself into the fire mage mindset. It was great to burn your enemies into nothing more than ash and cinder, but there was a poetic elegance to freezing your enemy into stationary statues. Additionally. it was rather comedic to watch them stumble as all their stamina was robbed from them, and see them slip on the ice.
The Frozen Orb did more than simply freeze the rain that fell nearby. It also shot out exploding ice spikes, and radiated an aura of cold, creating a field of snow. All of this was enhanced by Varrus''s perks, and constantly ate away at the Undead.
More than a dozen Frozen Orbs hovered above the enemy, and a dozen more were on the way as Varrus ate at his stored Mana Stones like they were candy.
Frozen spikes impaled bodies, and exploded upon impact, creating shrapnel that fatally pierced any enemies within 5ft of the attack.
Waves of cold radiated off the floating balls, giving frostbite to the Darkfallen, and slowing their limbs and freedom of movement.
In-between tossing out Frozen Orbs, Varrus cast Infinite Light to heal his allies, and power wash the weakened Undead out of existence.
Within a handful of minutes, the desperate situation had reversed itself, and he had already slaughtered 1-3,000 foes with his constant spamming of magic.
Varrus had regained his confidence in the fight when he saw a chain reaction of a dozen Wretched Darkfallen fall flat on their asses, slipping on some ice.
He wanted to laugh at the sight, but settled for a small grin. The ambush had set him on edge, but he wouldn''t allow this minor victory to make himself arrogant.
They were making good headway, so Varrus took this opportunity to aid the left and right flanks by tossing some Frozen Orbs in their directions.
Briefly glancing at both flanks, Varrus saw that Kael was in a serious battle against Lana''thel, and the thousand faced meatball thing.
Whereas Lor''Themar was struggling against Tha''salah.
Then that left him with-!
Varrus blinked in surprise, and felt as if time had stopped as a black arrow streaked past both Syra and Rho''dan, and collided with his shields.
Ebony Flesh formed, and shattered in an instant, and the protection granted by his enchantments glowed white, before it too began to crack.
Varrus had enough time to just barely twist to the side, and avoid having the arrow pierce his neck. However, the black arrow eventually broke through his magical shields, and entered his shoulder!
¡°Aurgh!¡± Varrus gasped, and fell to a knee in pain.
He felt black tendrils seep into his veins, and his body seize up like he was experiencing rigor mortis!
Any attempt to cast magic produced not even a spark. In fact, every time he tried to cast a spell, he felt nothing but excruciating pain!
Varrus''s vision was blurry, and foam was bubbling at the edge of his lips, yet the system text was crystal clear.
[Black Arrow: Silenced 10 min. Paralyzed 10 min. Poisoned 20 dmg/sec.]
Not only that, but without a barrier, the Blood Rain fell upon him too, and began to fry his skin like it was butter on a skillet!
For the first time since his transmigration, he saw his health bar rapidly decrease at an astonishing rate. He had less than 400hp, a couple seconds of this¡and he would die.
His blood felt like magma, and his heart was pumping at all cylinders. Distant sounds felt up close, and funded his sense of hearing like an anvil, whereas nearby noises were far and distant, like they were underwater.
The only saving grace was that his protective enchantments recharged-like a shield from Halo-and began to protect him from the blood rain.
However, he was forced to chug potion after potion from his inventory just to survive. Because the effects of the arrow never went away so long as it remained lodged in his shoulder!
He wanted to pull it out, but the paralysis in his limbs was too severe. If he was to go on, it had to be removed!
¡°Varrus!¡± Syra called out and ran to his side, deflecting another Black Arrow as she scooped him up.
¡°Pull. Out.¡± Varrus barely gasped to Syra as the pain was making him delirious.
The constant flow of poison in his veins combined with the rapid healing due to the potions was a fate worse than death.
For a fraction of a second, Varrus wanted death to claim him, to release him from such excruciating torture, yet the look on his wife''s face gave him the resolve to carry on.
Syra looked at him in worry, yet didn''t hesitate to rip the arrow from his shoulder.
Without any time to delay, Varrus cast Dispel Magic upon himself.
Thanks to the Alteration perk: Intuitive Magic, he could cast Novice and Apprentice spells at any time.
Thankfully, the poison was magical in nature, and had been removed along with the silence.
Varrus conjured some water, and took a big gulp. His face was pale and haggard after such a close call.
Looking up, he saw Syra crying, and angrily blocking Black Arrows from time to time.
He also saw Rho''dan alongside the Crossguard forming a shieldwall. Varrus mirthlessly grinned. He knew going all in on defense for those guys¡¯ enchantments would pay off.
Dusting himself off, Varrus glared hatefully at the ranger who stood upon the castle balcony.
She smirked down at him, then gestured at the handsome-druid looking-Darkfallen sitting beside her.
Opening his eyes, the man began to cast a spell, powerful swirls of energy coalesced around him, marking him as a serious threat.
Varrus withheld a snarl as he identified his two attackers. The ranger was a former Ranger Captain, Ariel, whilst the other was Lana''thel''s youngest, Prince Valanar.
Raising his hands, Varrus prepared a spell of his own.
He wouldn''t rest until these fuckers were ground into dust!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter 99
Watching the oh so pretty Ranger Captain look down upon him both literally and figuratively from the castle balcony set something off in Varrus.
Wiping some blood from his chin, Varrus sported a grin. The enemy was so cold, so detached, so arrogant that they couldn''t see the truth before their eyes.
Varrus had crushed Dar''Khan. He had crushed the Amani. He had crushed Tenris.
He would obliterate the Darkfallen.
It was then and there that Varrus stopped thinking of the enemy as something to chase and run after. He decided he would make those smug Elves come to him.
Her grand plot was innovative, but the plan to encircle them had failed, and his forces had regained the momentum.
With the aid of the Frozen Orb transforming the blood rain into useless ice, the Wretched Darkfallen were not as strong as they were during their initial attack.
As a result, House Vandercross was tearing into them like there was no tomorrow.
The Illidari were facing no Heroes to contain them, and Tae''thelon was having a field day in his armored golem. All the while, Telonicus was directing artillery fire into the densest pockets of resistance.
Varrus saw that the momentum had shifted to his side, and he saw no reason to rush at the enemy when he realized that he was the primary threat that must be stopped. He was the existential crisis looming on the horizon. He would be the one to end Lana''thel, Ariel, and all their foul ilk!
Without a second thought, Varrus out sped whatever spell Valanar was preparing, and cast Volcano on them.
The Master tier Destruction spell spawned the lip of a volcano just below Ariel, and Valanar.
As a result, the pair were forced to dodge, and a large portion of the castle was melted into molten slag. Additionally, large globules of lava erupted forth, causing further damage and destruction in all directions!
Ariel tried sniping at Varrus whilst she dodged, yet Syra, Rho''dan and his Crossguard remained in front of him, and served as the most stalwart of guardians.
Varrus flashed the ranger a savage grin. It was an expression that promised pain and overwhelming violence.
The fear of death, and panic from earlier had unlocked Varrus''s cruel side, and he wanted nothing more at the moment, than to tear that cold beauty limb from limb.
For so many fights, he had laughed along with Syra. But there was no laughter now as Varrus began to bring down all the spells in his arsenal.
Fire, ice, and lightning exploded and rocked the castle as Varrus tossed everything he had.
Forbidden Sun brought down large orbs of fire, incinerating everything in sight.
Twister sucked up everything in its path, and chopped up hundreds of Wretched Darkfallen as it churned up an endless windstorm whilst it plowed towards the ruined balcony.
Flamestrike brought down a swarm of meteors that rocked the earth with fire and fury. The continuous barrage of meteorites brightened the crimson skyline, and caused deep craters to form in the land.
In between these Master tier spells, Varrus flipped his hand, and cast an architecture spell to remake the Tower of Jenga.
Tens of thousands of enchanted bricks flew out of his inventory, and fused together to create an 8 story tall wizards tower. Sticking out of its sides, over 100 Mana Stones acted as both a battery for him, as well as a target for diffusing enemy magical attacks.
Positioned around him, his wife and guards stood in a protective formation.
Combining his enhanced Elven vision, and heightened position, Varrus was like a true mobile defense platform, and had easily destroyed 10,000 Darkfallen during his mad assault.
For all the power he was unleashing, Ariel had little counterplay. He didn''t know what abilities she had been enhanced with, but she had clearly gone all in on the ranger bit.
In fact, Varrus already had lost track of her due to the chaos of spamming spells.
The balcony, and surrounding Undead had been his target. Now that she had found some cover, she had likely entered camouflage, and would either slither away, or attempt a sneak attack.
¡°Syra, hunt her down.¡± Varrus said in a lowered voice.
Syra looked at him, unwillingness in her gaze. She glanced down at the broken pieces of a Black Arrow, then gave him a pointed look.
¡°I will live. But I trust no one but you. You are a master of stealth. Only one trained in the arts of the shadow can recognize a fellow practitioner.¡± Varrus said in praise.
Syra frowned at him, yet eventually, she nodded. She winked at him, then disappeared as a shroud of invisibility coated her form.
¡°Tear her heart out.¡± Varrus muttered, then turned back to the battle.
While his wife was busy, and he was painting himself as a big exposed target, he still had to deal with the last Prince.
For once, Varrus''s Mana Sight actually helped him track someone, and he could see the Prince was doing something underground that was giving off insane amounts of energy waves.
Valanar, had managed to escape Varrus''s indiscriminate bombardment by merging with a root, confirming that this guy was attuned with Nature magic.
Fighting an opponent underground was tricky, as in theory, he had zero spells that dealt with rocks, dirt, or any other element related to earth. Perhaps only his Volcano spell could be said to be tangentially related to the earth element.
However, that didn''t mean he couldn''t strike at the little cretin!
All he had to do was get¡creative!
Varrus had a mad grin on his face as he thought up ways to abuse the Skyrim spells he had access to.
Undermine, an Adept level Alteration spell on the surface was a spell that shook the ground. and caused the enemy to lose their balance, messing up the swing of their weapon.
It was quite frankly, a mostly useless spell when viewed from this lens.
However, the exact system text had Undermine ¡®shift the earth.¡¯
That one line birthed a goldmine of ideas in Varrus''s mind, and he simply had to test a theory!
Varrus was so caught up in the exploration of magic, that he didn''t notice Rho''dan and the Crossguard conspicuously shifting slightly away from him.
Little did they know that Varrus was conducting science!
Casting Undermine on top of Valanar''s position, Varrus looked on with baited breath.
~~~~~~~~
Valanar sighed to himself as he blankly stared at a clump of wriggling white worms within the underground cavern he found himself in.
As a boy, he had fed them some water from the Sunwell, and they had transformed into his longest lived companions. Now they would act as his weapon of war.
He started to prepare a powerful spell for the fight to come, but he found it difficult to even get started.
Where did it all go so wrong?
One moment, he had been peacefully enjoying death within an endless forest of dreams, the next, he had awakened to see the scheming smiles of his siblings. He couldn''t quite recall the details of his afterlife, but he knew it had massive trees, and was vibrant like nothing else.
Then he was resurrected only to be surrounded by schemers and malcontents.
As the youngest son of Lana''thel, and for a time, the youngest child of Anasterian, Valanar had seen the competition for the throne and decided he wanted no part in it.
Which is why he had sequestered himself in this city, and studied Tha''salah. Druidism was a dying skill amongst his people, as it was viewed as weak when compared to the power of Arcane.
Valanar found peace in Nature, and did not feel the need to argue with the naysayers.
Under the shade of trees, and company of animals, Valanar had found freedom from the constant whispers, lies, and backstabbing taking place at Silvermoon. Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
But now he was trapped in a revolting corpse that craved blood, and radiated Death.
The only two reasons he had stuck around after the Dreadlords freed his mind, was 1) to rehabilitate Tha''salah, and 2) help his mother.
As a druid, it was his calling to help all denizens of the forest. Whether it be a tree, or a beast. And as a son, it was his duty to help his mother in her time of need. While he was largely divorced from political matters, and he knew he had disappointed Lana''thel because he did not actively compete for the throne, he still loved her.
And so Valanar had found himself dragged into a civil war against his younger half brother.
In all honesty, he would like to surrender, because he rather liked young Kael. However, the fact that his father became adulterous with Faedra of all people drove a permanent wedge between his mother and father. By proxy, it made his mother eternally scornful towards his little brother.
Fluid relationships were not entirely unheard of given the longevity of the High Elves, yet Faedra was Valanar''s aunt, and Lana''thel''s sister¡such a betrayal was not an easy potion to swallow.
As a result, his mother, desperate to win this conflict, then completed some ritual with a powerful extraplanar being, and was bestowed with incredible power. She also sacrificed the souls of all the other Darkfallen to empower both him and Ariel. As a result, all the Darkfallen fighting outside were mere shells of what they could be.
It was quite frankly revolting to Valanar.
Sighing once more to himself, Valanar felt some powerful tremors shake the soil above him, and some light dust fell upon his perfect silver hair.
¡°That Vandercross kid sure is scary.¡± Valanar muttered to himself.
He never imagined that the laughing stock of recent Highborn society would be so strong.
In a way, he felt a kindred spirit with the young man. Both of them had rejected the political machinations of their parents, and had rebelled in their own way.
If it was under any other circumstance, he would have liked to have shared a cup of moonberry tea with Varrus.
When Ariel had nudged him earlier, and brought his attention to the young bard, Valanar had smiled when he recognized Varrus. However, based upon Vandercross¡¯s expression, he was none too happy with Valanar.
The silver haired prince cursed his perfect looks. It seemed everyone who saw him thought he inherently looked down upon them¡
When he was deep in thought, the trembling earth became more intense, and was even closer than last time.
Glancing up, a cloud of dust coated his face, and he saw some blood red light begin to peak through some cracks in the dirt above him.
Valanar sighed one last time. Whatever that ritual his mother did to him, he feared that should he pass on again, his soul would be consigned to eternal damnation. That he would not return to his forest of dreams.
Unfortunately, that left him with only one option.
To fight!
Valanar smiled at himself in pity, and shook his head.
Adding the finishing touches to the spell he had been preparing, Valanar launched his counterattack.
~~~~~~~~~~
Varrus had been using a combination of Undermine, and Telekinesis to dig his way down to Quel''Thalas''s last Prince''s hidey-hole.
The constant shift of dirt and debris loosened up the soil, and made it easier for him to pull up large clumps every second.
Any excess dirt was tossed on top of the Darkfallen, and served as another means to thin the herd of ravenous Undead.
Between these two spells, it only took him a handful of minutes to reach his target.
There, at the bottom of the hole, the silver haired royal scion looked up at Varrus with that damned smug smile of his!
Varrus snorted. Now that he had a perfect line of sight on his target, he decided he would make Valanar scurry about like a rat once more, and moved to cast Volcano right under the Prince''s feet.
However, Valanar had finished his spell before Varrus this time, and a powerful impact shook Varrus''s tower, making his aim go awry.
Instead of the lip of a volcano spawning under Valanar''s feet, it erupted on a group of Darkfallen instead.
Varrus recovered his balance, and looked down at the Tower of Jenga to see that it was slightly tilted to the side, but otherwise had suffered no permanent damage.
However, a group of giant worms began to bang their heads into his tower, and spat corrosive green slime onto it. Another was spinning silk around it, and trying to tear it down!
Varrus tried bringing them down with some Expert spells that would not damage his tower, such as Sleet Storm, or Lightning Strike, however, these worms were magically resistant! Their skin was special, and magical attacks seemed to slip right off of them!
Raising an eyebrow, Varrus was eager to slay them, and craft gear from their hides.
At this time, about a hundred of these worms were crawling the tower, and were beginning to near the summit.
¡°Should we be worried, Highlord?¡± Rho''dan enquired from the side.
¡°Nonsense, Rho''dan, I have them right where I want them.¡± Varrus confidently replied.
Varrus then narrowed his eyes at the Prince, and responded with a smug smirk of his own.
When the worms grew close to the Mana Stones embedded in the tower, they began to sap the magic from them!
Over the last two weeks, Varrus had kept up with his studies of Vandercross¡¯s memory crystal, and had unlocked another ability or two. One of them was a dampening effect.
As all beings in the universe had mana flowing through them, even if the worms were not actively casting magic, they would still become sluggish as the Mana Stones began to sap them of their energy!
One worm swallowed one of the crystals whole, to which Varrus muttered a quick chant.
The stone began to shine brightly, then exploded inside the worm''s mouth, sending guts and blood everywhere.
With the Mana Stones sapping the worms all this time, Varrus unleashed another Lightning Strike at the closest worm.
One of the white, eyeless creatures had reared its head at Varrus, and was about to spit some acidic splooge when it was struck.
A bolt of hot blue plasma fell from the sky, and scorched the worm, heavily damaging it. It hissed, and recoiled in pain, yet Varrus didn''t give up.
He vast Lightning Strike once, twice, three times, then the beast collapsed, dead!
Varrus repeated this process several more times, and cast the Master tier spell: Static Dome to create a safety net around himself.
The spell created a hovering sphere of electricity, and much like Frozen Orb, would move around the battlefield, and strike at foes with exploding bolts of lightning. It didn''t visibly change the environment much in comparison, but the worms seemed to be weak to lightning, so he would be a fool not to use this particular element.
During the combat, he also received help from both Telonicus, and Tae''thelon in eliminating over half of the remaining worms in just a handful of minutes.
Varrus didn''t celebrate this minor victory, and cautiously glanced at Valanar''s position, only to find an absolute unit of a giant worm emerging from the hole.
If the average size of the giant worms were the size of a school bus, then this mega worm made them look like children in comparison.
The massive worm was big, scary, and pink! It just about matched the Tower of Jenga in size, and sitting on its head was the last Prince, Valanar.
Varrus''s eyebrow twitched, ¡®what is this, a rip off of Dune?¡¯
¡°If only we met under better circumstances. Unfortunately, it was not meant to be!¡± Valanar''s sing-song voice carried over the wind with a floaty quality to it, like he was speaking to air, and not directly at Varrus.
This only made Varrus even more agitated. He didn''t recall ever meeting this guy, and had barely recognized him in the first place.
Shaking his head, Varrus replied with the only language that mattered at this point.
Violence!
Pressing his hands together, electricity cackled all around him, and he cast Lightning Storm. The Kamehameha-like beam of pure electricity scorched the worm from its midsection all the way up to its head!
The worm roared in pain, and Valanar was murmuring some spell. A moment later, a thick covering of goo coated the beast, and Varrus''s lightning did little in the way of damage.
It then spat out a globule of acid with enough liquid to fill a swimming pool directly at him.
Varrus tossed a Frozen Orb in between himself and the goo, turning the acid into chunks of ice, and forcing it to drop harmless to the ground.
Several nearby Static Domes that had been hovering around the tower then went on to collide with the monster, yet only slightly slowed it down as it began to spit out a thick webbing of silk all over his tower.
Varrus ignored the webbing, and dropped multiple casts of Apocalypse upon the worm.
Massive jets of fire, ice and lightning spawned into existence all around the colossal beast, and applied a dozen effects all at once thanks to Varrus''s perks tree.
Just to name a few:
Magnetize lifted the worm up, and away from his tower, dropping the worm back to the ground with a mighty thump.
Shatter repeatedly reduced frost resistance, and caused clumps of slime, and even some flesh to freeze, and break.
Cataclysm reduced magic resistance by a staggering 25%, and blasted the worm into the air every 45 seconds.
Glacial Prison then locked it in place, and added another 25% reduction in magic resistance.
Finally, Absolute Power held the worm in place through the power of magnetism, and reduced its magic resist by another 25%.
This combined elemental attack reduced its magic resist by a whopping 75%!
Again, it had its magic resistance reduced by 75%!
If Varrus was brave enough to step into the firing line of his own spell, his other perks that reduced magic resist would make the worm have a reduction of over 100%.
But for now, he was satisfied!
The worm was struggling to move its colossal frame under the constant bombardment, and was clinging to the tower like a fighter clinching during a boxing match that had run out of juice.
However, this was to its detriment, as the Mana Stones were constantly sapping away at its power!
Varrus allowed himself a small smile as he watched Apocalypse eat away at this boss-level threat like it was chump change.
Truly, the Tower of Jenga was his ultimate masterpiece. Powered by Mana Stones, it provided a shield against ranged attacks, and every brick was master crafted, and enchanted with protection.
Smirking to himself, Varrus couldn''t help but taunt the beleaguered Prince.
¡°It''s over Valanar, I have the high ground!¡±
Valanar chuckled at Varrus''s taunt, and saluted him!
¡®What the hell?¡¯ Varrus thought in confusion at this strange behavior.
¡°You''re right. I surrender!¡± Valanar called up to Varrus from his mount.
Varrus blinked his eyes, baffled.
He had fought in so many death battles, that the word ¡®surrender¡¯ wasn''t even part of his lexicon.
Hell, he had gone from one crisis to the next, and had never once considered anything but completely annihilating his enemy.
Now, this handsome-yet utterly creepy-former royal wanted to surrender?!
But it wasn''t like it was impossible. After all, Jan''alai had teamed up with them, and gone against the Amani, right?
¡°Rho''dan, thoughts?¡± Varrus turned to his number 2 in confusion.
¡°Valanar has largely stayed out of public eye compared to his siblings. He has a bit of a negative reputation. In some regards, he is a misfit, much like the King and the you of the past.¡± Rho''dan analyzed, and spoke in a calm tone of voice.
¡°Your point being?¡± Varrus pressed.
¡°I say go for it. He still has some fight in him, and if he went to ground, rooting him out would prove difficult. If we capture him now, we can move on to aiding Lady Syra, or Kael.¡± Rho''dan suggested.
Varrus glanced at the other side of the battlefield, and while he caught no sight of Syra, he saw that Kael was engaged in a dangerous brawl where fire met blood. The victory of that conflict was far from certain.
Every second wasted here meant that there could be a major screw up at any other point across the warfront. The sooner this was resolved, the sooner he could join his allies, and tip the scales in their favor.
¡°Thank you for your advice, Rho''dan. Have him wear a pair of magic restricting cuffs on both his wrists and ankles.¡± Varrus ordered.
¡°It will be done, Highlord.¡± Rho''dan bowed, then took some manacles out of his mageweave bag.
Varrus shook his head, it was a good thing his guards were always prepared, but damn it was a little unnerving knowing how many torture tools they might be lugging around.
Turning towards the worm, Varrus raised his voice: ¡°we accept your surrender. Give yourself up peacefully, and we will see you remain unharmed!¡±
¡°But of course! However, could you cancel your spell? Kairo here is my only friend left, and I would be sad if he was to die like this. I will not surrender unless you can promise me his safety!¡± Valanar shouted back.
Varrus paused, surprised that someone would show such compassion for a worm of all things.
But he had encountered stranger things on the internet, and if there was anyone who would have such an attitude towards a worm in this world, it would be an Elf.
¡°Granted, but you must send your friend back underground.¡± Varrus waved his hand, and canceled Apocalypse.
However, he held himself at the ready, prepared for any sudden moves of betrayal.
But nothing came of it.
Rho''dan cuffed Valanar, and the worm reduced itself in size until it fit onto the Prince''s palm.
¡°That is some magic.¡± Varrus raised his eyebrows in shocked appreciation.
¡°Would you care to learn it?¡± Valanar said gently, and almost eagerly?
¡°Perhaps another time. My plate is full at the moment with other studies. Now, since I have accepted your surrender, what can you tell me about Lana''thel? Speak well, and I just might be merciful with your sentencing.¡± Varrus threatened.
¡°I hope you take me up on that offer. Nature magic is simply beautiful.¡± Valanar held up his pet worm on his finger, and cast a healing spell on it. He then smiled as it happily wriggled about.
¡°Your mother, Valanar? What information do you have to share?¡± Varrus pressed.
Rho''dan roughly gripped the former Prince from behind, and tightened his hold on Valanar''s shoulders.
¡°Hmm. Scared. I''d say she is terrified of you, and especially Kael. I don''t really know anything about her magic, but her emotions seem to fuel her power. I don''t know much, I just want to see the forest whole again.¡± Valanar shrugged his shoulders, then looked on in sorrow at the crazed World Tree.
Varrus facepalmed his own forehead, as he didn''t get very much out of the interaction. However, he did get a sense that the silver haired prince was very whimsical. He sort of reminded Varrus of Luna Lovegood from the Harry Potter series in a way.
But that was neither here nor there. He had no time to think about this when he had a war to win!
¡°Thank you for your insight, Valanar. Rho''dan, have one of the Crossguard watch over him, and keep me posted if anyone spots Syra. Until then, we advance upon Lana''thel.¡± Varrus ordered, then cast a spell to unbind the bricks holding his tower together, and placed them in his inventory.
¡°Yes, Highlord!¡± Rho''dan saluted, then handed Valanar off.
¡°Keep my offer in mind, Varrus, we could use some more druids.¡± Valanar called after Varrus as he was dragged away.
Whilst Varrus did find such an offer intriguing, it really was too much to deal with at the moment. He had other things to worry about.
Case in point, where in the hell was Syra?
Glancing all over the place, Varrus began to feel a slight worry well up inside.
¡®You had better be okay.¡¯ Varrus thought to himself, then gave the order to move out.
Chapter 100
Syra looked longingly at Varrus from within a shroud of invisibility.
He had thought she was already gone, away hunting the vermin that had struck at him.
Yet she had remained close for just a minute more. She wanted to hold him, squeeze him, and never let him out of her sight.
The way he commanded the troops, the construction of his toys, and the joy in his eyes when he built the tower.
It was all so childish. So wonderful.
In a society where everyone was busy outdoing one another, and attempting to gain attention from their peers, Varrus almost accidentally ascended to the zenith of Highborn gossip and dare she say, admiration.
As his only public fan during his acting days, Syra had been on the receiving end of hateful rhetoric, and mocked for her support of him.
But who was laughing now?
Varrus was the one feeding their addiction. Varrus was the one who reorganized the rule of law, and secured Silvermoon. It was by his efforts that the city was rebuilt, and cleansed of corruption. It was Varrus who crowned the King for all to see.
He was in the limelight. The Hero spoken of in whisper, as if he was some mythological creature.
And he was all hers.
Syra smiled to herself as she watched him grow slightly irritated, and begin to tear away at the dirt.
To others, they might see a cold and composed leader, hell-bent on securing the safety and security of their people. But Syra had been with Varrus long enough, and knew he had lost his cool. He wanted to tear that Prince apart.
Ah, how cute~.
Syra withheld a giggle, and held a hand up to her lips.
Rho''dan was nearby, and glanced at the position she was hiding in with a knowing smirk.
Syra narrowed her eyes. Happy her husband''s guard dog was ever watchful, yet she resented the fact that he had spotted her.
Furthermore, he winked at her!
Syra wanted to sneak up on him, however, what she was waiting for happened.
Another Black Arrow came from an alleyway in the city, and forced Rho''dan to block.
¡®This is it!¡¯ Syra''s eyes widened, and absorbed a large amount of Void energy as she tried to parse through the shadows, and seize her target.
Her vision turned purple-scale, where every object had a slightly violet hue to it. This method of seeing made Syra noxious, but it was the best method to find that which wished to remain unfound.
A second or two into her search, she found traces of Ariel.
She then longingly glanced at Varrus one last time, burning his image in her mind. To her violet-vision enhanced sight, Varrus was like a shining beacon compared to the average Elf.
He truly was special¡
Shaking her head so as not to be lost in thought staring at Varrus-she could do that later-Syra refocused on her query.
Choosing a direction to advance towards, she gracefully flipped over the edge of the 8 story tower, and landed on the ground without making a sound.
Syra made her way towards the alley that the sniper had occupied a moment ago.
Along the way, she dodged between ravenous Wretched Darkfallen, flipped over several cannon shots, side stepped a priest''s Holy Light, and avoided large puddles of pooling blood.
The chaos of battle made Syra itchy for combat.
Her protective instincts long honed within the forests, and achieved during the Orc War screamed at her to cut apart and eviscerate all the scum charging at her husband, but her rationality won out in the end.
House Vandercross was sufficiently prepared for this encounter thanks to her Varrus''s Frozen Orb spell, training, and superior equipment.
She took pride in his accomplishments. Of transforming some slacker layabouts into true Elites.
¡®Ah. No more distractions Syra!¡¯ Syra pouted at herself, and turned away from the war being waged all around her.
Refocusing on her prey, Syra left the main street, and began to search to the best of her ability.
At this point, the sounds of exploding fireballs, and mindless roars of the Undead had become muted. It was close enough to send vibrations through the rain puddles, yet far enough away that Syra felt safe from any accidental friendly fire. If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
Spotting trace amounts of some footsteps highlighted in purple, Syra carefully made her way down an alleyway.
During her hunt, a dragonhawk knight crashed and collided into a nearby building, his mount died, and the knight had a broken arm.
Syra was on edge, and expecting an ambush, yet nothing happened.
Moving closer, she examined the knight.
The bloody rain began to eat at his flesh as the priests¡¯ barrier had popped during the impact. He fumbled to uncork a potion, and barely got the elixir to his lips, but it only delayed the inevitable. What would be a 10 second death had been delayed to minutes thanks to the powerful effects of the healing draught.
Syra looked on, feeling troubled by the development.
Raised by Faedra, she had been conditioned to always complete the mission first. To ignore any obstacles that got in the way of achieving her goal. As a warrior and assassin, Syra had followed this training to great success. Sometimes there would be losses in the field, but ultimately, her murder of the enemy leader or holding a certain fortification resulted in great victories, or forced the enemy to flee. .
However, when she fought side by side with Varrus, liberating the city, rescuing those children, and watching his love and awe for Silvermoon during the reconstruction¡it made all that training under her mother feel¡wrong.
National pride wasn''t exactly something she had experienced, nor did she feel particularly close to the smug Elves thousands of years her elder. They played their games, yet were all pawns between Faedra, Vandercross, and Sunstrider. It was difficult to take such conniving ancients seriously, or express any kind of loyalty towards such two faced, pompous politicians.
But Varrus''s childish glee, and marveling at everything in wonder had made Syra feel things she didn''t know were possible.
Suddenly, a downed knight she wouldn''t even glance twice at had placed her in a dilemma.
Logic and training dictated that she would do the most good if she continued on her quest as if nothing had happened. To finish her hunt of Ariel, and surprise her with a swift execution.
Yet the love of her life was such an exemplary Hero. He was someone who helped people to his own detriment, often to Syra''s chagrin.
But his innocence was precious.
Closing her eyes and biting her bottom lip, Syra had come to a decision.
¡®Oh Varrus you lovable off, what have I become?¡¯ Syra thought to herself as she prepared a barrier spell for the damaged Highborn.
Syra had been fretting over saving the downed knight all this time, and was about to take the risk of revealing herself to do so, when an arrow struck his throat, and claimed his life.
At the same time, a damaged building shook due to the force contained within the arrow, and some rubble toppled over, and splashed into a nearby puddle of blood.
Syra''s outstretched hand closed into a fist.
Her mood soured in an instant.
She had been hopeful, and was clinging to the na?vet¨¦ of Varrus''s generosity at that moment. But the one time she had chanced exposing herself, and forsaking her mission, the one time she chose good over logic.
It was taken from her.
At that moment, Syra felt as if she had just witnessed someone kick a puppy.
Tracking the firing arc of the arrow, Syra replied by slashing with her buster sword.
Gold and violet intermixed with one another, forming a crescent of energy.
The powerful energy wave erupted from her blade, and tore apart the cobblestone road as it collided with a nearby bell tower.
A great bronze bell shook and shuddered as it collapsed, interrupting the steady beat of the rain for but a second before being silenced forever.
Syra had revealed herself in that instant, and instead of waiting around, she ran forward, barely dodging two extremely fast Black Arrows.
The Ranger Captain had also revealed herself, and backflipped over the roof of a building to put some distance between them.
Syra could have easily jumped after Ariel, but instead she cut her way through the building, and emerged on the other side like a wrecking ball crashing into a shop.
Rotten pastries, and other moldy baked goods splattered from within the store onto the street in her wake.
She pressed forward, eager to dice up her foe, only to be met with no sight of her. Only the bloody rain and distant booms of combat remained as her constant companions.
Her violet vision picked up movement, to which Syra sent another crescent of energy towards.
However, it was a feint.
Syra felt a shift in the air behind her, and barely reacted in time.
Twin swords jutted towards her back, forcing Syra to duck and sweep her blade.
The speed of her response was incredible, yet Ariel seemed to keep up!
¡°I studied Silvermoon''s developments, I know Vandercross¡¯s whore is fast, which is why I asked my Lord for a similar blessing!¡± Ariel mocked as she twirled her blades.
Syra didn''t say a word, and slashed down in a series of diagonals.
Ariel grinned, and parried aside Syra''s wide attacks, seemingly waiting for a perfect opportunity to strike.
Unleashing wide magical arcs with every attack, Syra narrowed her eyes as she realized that her Holy Void was not eating away at Ariel''s weapons.
The twin blades had a thick layer of blood on them that were being corroded, however, the constant blood rain was rejuvenating the enchantment at a rate faster than what she could destroy.
Syra narrowed her eyes at this factoid, and recalled several instances where she had witnessed a mortally wounded Darkfallen sup on flesh and blood to heal. While it didn''t protect the Prince from her blade a few months back, Ariel had undergone some strange ritual, enhancing her compared to the average Darkfallen.
Syra wasn''t so foolish as to believe that there were no counters to the Holy Void. Yet from what she had seen, that didn''t mean Ariel was immune!
Tucking that information away, Syra began singing the spell to Sanctuary during the swipes of her sword.
Ariel, upon hearing the chants of magic, appeared to grow desperate to counterattack, and had grown slightly sloppy in her maneuvers, taking a shallow cut here and there.
Syra confirmed her theory from earlier when she saw the Ranger Captain heal from Syra''s attack.
The bitch was trying to bait Syra into overextending herself!
But that was exactly what Syra wanted!
Dramatically raising her sword overhead, Syra brought it down with a supreme amount of force and power, leaving her midsection exposed.
The sky was briefly cleaved in two, and the clouds were parted as the power of her attack contained an enormous amount of mana.
Gold and violet intertwined to form a energy sword the length of a 2 story building from the tip of her blade, spelling doom for any caught in its path.
Ariel took this invitation, and stabbed forward.
Black blood seeped out of Ariel''s eyes, and her flesh pulsed with black veins. An unholy aura surrounded her body, and visible waves of Death magic coated her form.
Her swords collided with the bubble of Light coating Syra, and easily punched forth.
Syra grinned at that instant, and siphoned all of the mana and energy flowing out of her sword into her body. Specifically, at her abs, where she coated them in Holy Void, and hardened them to an astonishing degree.
The twin blades scraped off her midsection, and in fact, had been gripped by Syra as she tightened her core.
In that brief moment of confusion, Ariel tried to perk her weapons back, but Syra''s fists had already locked onto the Ranger Captain''s throat.
Syra squeezed.
Ariel only had a moment of disbelief, before Holy Void infused her body, and ate away at the shield protecting her.
The Darkfallen''s eyes began to expand and pop outward, and were desperately looking upward for the healing rain, yet the sword from earlier had lasted the clouds!
There would be no restoration!
Syra coldly looked on in satisfaction as Ariel tried, and failed to scream.
Within only a handful of seconds, Ariel had burned up from the inside out, and disappeared like a rusted sword decaying into dust.
Unclenching her abs, Syra bit her lip as the pain of Death magic had bypassed some of her defenses, and entered her system.
Looking down at the pile of ashes being swept away in the bloody rain, Syra deemed such an inconvenience worth it.
Flexing her power, Syra cleansed her body, and looked out to the battle.
Furious Dragon roars drew her attention to the other flank.
It would seem Nightsong and Tha''salah were in the final throes of battle.
Picking herself up, Syra wanted to go to Varrus''s side, but at the same time, this could be the opportunity to really show off in front of her mother-in-law.
The General had been an icon, and her personal Hero growing up.
Smiling to herself, Syra had made up her mind, and began to move towards the World Tree.
Varrus would understand.
Chapter 101
(Kael¡¯Thas POV slightly before Varrus''s opening attack on Valanar)
Kael had led the Sunfury into the city with little resistance, thanks to the covering fire from the cannons, and Varrus''s army paving the way.
As a result, he mostly faced the dregs of the treant forces, and served more as a relief force, acting to take pressure off of Varrus as he spearheaded his way towards the city''s summit.
In the past, Kael would have heavily suggested, nay, demanded he take the vanguard. His sense of vengeance used to be so keen, he would rush forward at every opportunity to violently meete out some righteous retribution.
But even though a mere 3 months had passed, he was a changed man.
The weight of leadership, and the expectations of his ancestors put things into a new perspective. He did not have to be the first one to step foot onto the battlefield.
In fact, he found the slow and steady pace of the left flank to be comforting.
With the luxury of acting in a supporting role, Kael was free to rotate his forces so as to prevent exhaustion and conserve both stamina and mana amongst his troops.
Constant war had taught both him and the soldiers when to substitute amongst themselves, when was the most optimal time to consume a potion, and when to turn back to the priests.
Kael was proud of the men and women who followed his banner. They had transformed from a rowdy rabble hell-bent on revenge, and had transformed into a well lubricated war machine.
Even now, as Wretched Darkfallen sprang up from the soil, and blood rain threatened to melt one if it so much as made contact with the skin, the Sunfury remained composed.
They reacted to the sudden ambush with professionalism and efficiency. The slobbering enemy was no match for his army, and Kael had lost less than a dozen people to the overwhelming onslaught.
Each death was like a dagger to Kael''s heart, but unlike Prince Kael¡¯Thas, King Kael¡¯Thas did not sit around and mope when he witnessed such tragedy.
With a snap of his finger, and a quick incantation, Kael summoned a tornado of flame, and sent it amongst the Wretched Darkfallen.
Al''ar screeched alongside him, and repeatedly dive bombed the tightly packed Darkfallen. Flame and talon tore into the densely packed mob of Undead, ripping them asunder, and scorching them into ash.
Kael smiled graciously as several Highborn turned to him with looks of gratitude at his well-timed attack.
His small contribution to the battle opened a gap, and the Sunfury exploited it, coming down upon the Wretched Darkfallen like a wave crashing down upon the shore
Among his forces Heroes like Aethas Sunreaver, and Astalor Bloodsworn competed neck and neck to claim the most kills.
It was public knowledge now that Rommath was a traitor, and the two archmages were in a race to prove themselves.
Kael was lacking a cabinet member, and the position of Grand Magister was a coveted position that carried with it vast duties, responsibilities, and prestige.
Sunreaver exploded upon the enemy with hundreds of flaming spears. The direct impact of his actions were worth a hundred Elites.
Whereas Bloodsworn conjured many collars using Arcane energy, and subordinated the Wretched Darkfallen to fight for him.
Kael was interested in the two, but had yet to make a decision. Sunreaver had experience in Dalaran, and had been a sort of a mentor to Kael regarding Human affairs. He was knowledgeable in fire magic, and was an all-rounder. As a high ranking member of the Kirin Tor, he was largely divorced from Elven politics, and was able to resolve interspecies conflicts. Kael had a high opinion of Sunreaver not only for his skill as a mage, but as a leader too.
As for Bloodsworn, he had a unique perspective on magic that intrigued Kael. His research regarding binding magic was revolutionary, and in fact, he had been credited with inventing bound weapons. Now, it would seem he was pushing the edge of this knowledge, and could even control the enemy directly. Bloodsworn was a widely respected figure amongst academics, and would be a more favorable pick amongst the general population. Furthermore, while his brand of magic made Kael sick, as King, he could not discount its usefulness to his people.
Personally, he found Sunreaver to be agreeable, a great leader of men, and an all-rounder mage. On the other hand, Bloodsworn was well respected by the populace, and had innovated society with his achievements.
It was a tough call, and he would base his decision on who performed better in this war.
Whilst Kael was busy assessing his pick for Grand Magister, Jan''alai flew down, and transformed back into her Troll form.
¡°Come on Goldilocks, we have to go faster! Otherwise they''ll out pace us!¡± Jan''alai gripped Kael by the forearm with urgency.
¡°Did you place a wager with Syra?¡± Kael said in amusement as he repulsed Jan''alai''s hand with a small burst of mana.
¡°They''re almost at the summit!¡± Jan''alai continued, confirming Kael''s suspicion.
¡°Hmm, well we can''t have that, can we?¡± Kael rubbed his chin, and replied in a faux conspiratorial tone.
¡°Then I''ll take the front!¡± Jan''alai excitedly turned around, only to be held back by Kael.
¡°Patience, Green Beak, we''ll have our chance. Our role is to reinforce Varrus, and relieve any pressure. Our very presence has already soaked up tens of thousands of Wretched Darkfallen. Should we abandon our position, and rush forward, we would leave his left flank exposed.¡± Kael explained with some levity in his voice, but was firm in his denial.
Kael allowed himself to smile-something he found himself doing more and more these days-and watched as his muscular maiden worked through the logic.
She was big and strong, but she wasn''t slow. Jan''alai had a different perspective than most, and was ignorant to the finer intricacies of combat. Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
While Kael still considered himself a novice, that didn''t mean he couldn''t educate her, or that she couldn''t learn.
In fact, he was glad she was taking such a vested interest in Syra. With the two women bonding over war of all things, it made his life that much easier.
As King, he had to look towards the future, and the future he foresaw required unity and strength from within. He had experienced the demerits of a house divided. After he ended this civil war, Kael wanted to strengthen his bonds with his people, and maintain his friendship with Varrus.
The fact that their women had become friends could only be a good thing in Kael''s book.
¡°I understand, but how am I supposed to keep up when her husband is cheating?¡± Jan''alai complained, and pointed at a giant, 8-story tower forming up, some ways off.
¡°Impressive.¡± Dranarus commented as he approached from the side. In his hand, a scrying orb took a quick picture of the tower.
¡°He doesn''t do things by half measures, does he?¡± Kael muttered to himself when he saw the tower for the first time.
Kael had received reports about the Battle of Tranquillien, and had heard rumors of Varrus''s ¡®Tower of Jenga¡¯ but it was one thing to hear about something, and another to see it in real life.
Honestly? It made Kael a little jealous.
His true passion was pursuing the study of magic. That was half the reason he went to Dalaran, so he could remove himself from Silvermoon''s petty politics, and devoted himself to his studies.
For the last 3-4 months, he had gloomily sequestered himself in his quarters, ignoring everything. It was only when he became King that his passion was reignited, yet he had been on campaign for over an entire month.
Between leading an army, a nation, and the matters of love, he found he had very little time to practice his hobby.
¡°Come on, we can''t fall behind now!¡± Jan''alai excitedly urged Kael once more.
The way she looked at him was like a puppy begging for a treat.
Kael wanted to say no, but a moment later, Varrus began to toss out spells as if mana wasn''t a resource, and absolutely obliterated half the castle on the hill, and most of the Darkfallen surrounding his army.
Whatever Varrus didn''t blast, his House Guard took care of the rest as he began to engage the enemy Heroes.
Furthermore, Kael also witnessed a retaliatory assassination attempt that left Kael wondering if Varrus was okay or not!
¡°Sunreaver, Bloodsworn, you two secure our rear, and eliminate the remaining threats. Dranarus assemble the Spellbreakers, and follow me, we are ending this threat!¡± Kael spoke with power and authority.
No one threatened his best friend and lived to tell the tale!
¡°Ahh, kick ass! Let''s crump those gray-skinned wrinkly Undead losers!¡± Jan''alai punched her fist into an open palm repeatedly, and with great enthusiasm.
Kael nodded at Jan''alai, then set his eyes on an otherworldly beautiful being floating in the sky above the ruined castle. Besides her was a giant meatball made from the agonized, stitched faces of hundreds, if not thousands of Elves.
It was the evil witch who had orchestrated this rebellion, and saw to kill him as a boy. It was his father''s official wife, and the one responsible for the blood storm raining down upon them.
It was Queen Lana''thel.
The amount of mana radiating off of her was astounding, and gave Kael cause for concern.
Ever since his ancestors had crowned him, he had a connection with the Elemental Plane home to all Phoenixes.
However, they did not agree to be called upon often, and would only show in the most dire of circumstances.
Kael could still summon their flames, but he was not currently in a position to draw limitlessly upon their domain like he had with his fight against Rommath.
Fortunately, he had Jan''alai and Dranarus by his side, along with a few hundred Elites.
Lana''thel wasn''t sitting idle during Kael''s advance, and she began to wield the blood rain with such dexterity, it was like it was a limb or extension of her body.
The corrosive substance turned sharp, needling into Light shields, and putting his troops at serious risk. She also formed the rain into thick lances, which were only narrowly dodged, blocked, or magically countered by his forces. Fortunately, the Soellbreakers leading from the front were able to diminish most of the damage by dispersing the attack.
Dranarus then led the Royal Guard in a mass spell that regurgitated the magical energy they had absorbed from the rain, and generated a channeled beam of energy at the mutilated meatball.
The many-faced monster screeched from every mouth, and created a sonic frequency that disrupted the beam, causing it to fall apart.
As for Lana''thel, she twisted her fingers, causing pools of blood to swarm up the hill, and hit the Sunfury from behind. Within seconds, his forces were enveloped in the corrosive liquid, and would be at risk of having their shields bursting!
Jan''alai flew at Lana''thel with the intent of interrupting the spell, but the former Queen merely scoffed before merging with the rain, and disappearing into the downpour!
Kael couldn''t focus on Jan''alai as she raged and breathed green flames into the blood, he had to rescue his people!
Muttering the incantation to a spell, Kael altered the XYZ coordinates of everything within a wide zone.
Up was down, left was right, and any who intended to move in a certain direction went in the opposite path.
The Sunfury paused for a second, then adjusted on the fly. Thanks to numerous battles and training, they had learned to adapt to Kael''s change upon the environment!
Kael then began to actively channel the spell so that he could direct the deluge of blood elsewhere.
He began to accumulate all the blood he could find, and started to form a river of sanguine.
¡°Now, Al''ar!¡± Kael shouted. Sweat was dampening his brow as moving so much mana rich materials was taxing on his psyche.
¡°Kieer!¡± Al''ar screeched, and began to breathe Life infused fire upon the foul blood.
Entire swaths of the sanguine substance were permanently erased as his Phoenix companion went to town.
Supporting this effort, Jan''alai added her own flame, and the Spellbreakers were actively sapping the mana from within, then repurposing it for Arcane attacks. Then, the entire Sunfury army that wasn''t tied down by the remaining Darkfallen joined in, and blasted the constrained river of blood with everything they had!
Fire, Arcane Explosions, and Divine Hammers crashed upon the red liquid containing everything that the Highborn had to give.
The ground shook, and lights flashed, yet Kael put in all he could to gather as much rain as possible, and hold it still.
Sweat accumulated over his brow, and down his back as if he had run a marathon. As actively moving mana rich material was extremely straining, yet he saw that this was their moment to seize victory!
As a result of his actions, the blood clouds began to diminish, and the sky became somewhat balanced between blue and red!
¡°Watch out, Goldilocks!¡± Jan''alai''s voice cried.
Kael turned to the side, weary from such heavy concentration, and saw the monstrous meatball barreling down atop him.
Sonic frequencies messed with the magic shield he had around his body, causing it to shift and waver, then ultimately, pop as it neared.
At that moment, the blood river escaped his grasp as he lost his concentration, and a giant wave of toxic sludge-one so large it put tsunamis to shame-came crashing down towards Kael''s head.
Kael thought to swap himself somewhere else with his XYZ magic, but the continued screeching discombobulated him once again, momentarily paralyzing the flow of his mana!
He looked on, almost in slow motion as Al''ar flew down in an attempt to cover him with his wings, as Jan''alai lot her form on fire, and crashed into the meatball to stop it, or as Dranarus and his Spellbreakers ran in front of the blood tsunami with their shields up.
Yet each and every one of them, despite their best efforts, was too late.
Kael tightly gripped onto the hilt of Felo''melorn, prepared to call upon the realm of Phoenixes in their entirety once more.
He could only ask for their aid a limited amount of times in his life, and did not want to waste one here¡but he refused to let his story end when there was so much more to accomplish!
Holding his blade aloft, Kael raised his voice, and pumped mana into the ancient sword.
¡°In the name of Sunstrider, I call upon the Phoenix friends to renew our ancient pact, and come for-¡±
¡°Apocalypse.¡± A familiar voice interrupted Kael.
A moment later, jets of flame, ice and lighting descended from the sky, and mercilessly ate into the tsunami from all angles.
Kael shook his head. It slowed the tsunami, but it wasn''t enough. He would have to call upon the Phoenixes after all.
¡°I said. APOCALYPSE!¡± Varrus¡¯s voice boomed out, and five more iterations of Varrus''s spell came into existence one after another.
The world shook, and a woman''s voice screeched in outrage from within the massive blood pool.
Lana''thel''s face formed from the tsunami, and she snarled at both Kael and Varrus with extreme rage.
¡°You boys have ruined everything. Everything!!! So I will leave you with nothing.¡±
Following her words, the very city began to shake, and jets of blood began to explode from the sewers in quantities that Kael found almost unimaginable.
It was so much blood, it resembled an ocean.
Kael turned to Varrus, and gestured towards his sword as if to say ¡®are you going to stop me again this time?¡¯
¡°We''ll be fiiiine. Probably. Besides, at least the rain has stopped, and the sky is clear.¡± Varrus pointed out.
¡°Always the comedian. And such impeccable timing too.¡± Kael sarcastically muttered.
¡°Thank you, thank you. I''m here all night. Please, after you.¡± Varrus mock bowed, and gestured towards Kael''s sword.
Kael smiled at his friend for bringing some much needed levity, then completed his spell.
The former Queen was truly terrifying in her new magic, but he would show her why he was King. Why the Sunstriders could rule a nation of immortals for 8,000 years!
Chapter 102
Varrus had somewhat adapted to some of the absolutely putrid stenches he had come across in his time in Warcraft. He had experienced a zombie''s hot breath, the fried remains of thousands of Trolls, the sticky Kobold throne, and the musky hall of the dark temple.
But the amount of blood oozing out of the sewers was like an oil spill. It colored the walkways and streets, and stank to high heaven.
The stink, however, was the least of Varrus''s concerns.
When the was pooled together in such a large quantity, the conceptual weight of decay magnified.
Unlike on earth where a gallon of acid was about as toxic as 5 gallons of acid, here, magic altered the rules of the universe. The more of this acid-blood coagulated and merged together, the more powerful the effect!
Before, if the rain was a concern, then the sheer amount of poison accumulated in this lakes worth of blood was something worth going into full-blown panic mode over!
Varrus''s first instinct was to reconstruct his Tower of Jenga. Getting to the high ground against a massive pool of liquid was a matter of practicality.
Whilst he cast his architecture spell, he also tossed out hundreds of Raise Walls in between the blood and the Sunfury.
As useful as Kael''s army of Elites were, they would be no match for this furiously churning, intelligent body of blood.
¡°Cast away, Highlord, we shall protect you.¡± Rho''dan slapped his shield, and nodded at the Crossguard standing atop the tower next to Varrus.
¡°Any sight of my wife?¡± Varrus questioned as he began to toss out Frozen Orb''s one after another.
The ice magic had proved exceptional against both the sap and the rain. Now he would test its limits against this massive blood pool.
¡°A scouting report has come in. She is engaging the World Tree, and reinforcing General Nightsong.¡± Rho''dan supplied after reading a message from his scrying orb.
¡°Good enough. Watch my back, and be prepared to dodge away. This tower is strong, but it still has to undergo some limit testing.¡± Varrus replied,
As Varrus was busy setting up his tower, Kael was nearby, and mounted upon Al''ar. He was chanting a spell to unleash the Phoenix Fire! His sword grew brighter and brighter along with his forceful words.
A portal opened up behind the young King, and the cry of Phoenix Song resounded throughout the land.
The blood quivered, and Lana''thel''s voice rose to meet Kael''s.
¡°Ishnu''Van''Anori
Des''dreth Ban''Ghes¡±
A tornado of sticky plasma spawned into existence, and splattered thick blobs the size of sedans in every direction.
Varrus pulled upon the Mana Stones embedded in his tower to draw the energy out of any stray shots. Over 75% of the dank substance was blocked by his first line defense. The remainder was either tanked by the enchanted bricks, or directly blocked by the Crossguards¡¯ shields.
During this, Varrus spared a glance around, and saw Jan''alai alongside Dranarus fighting off the meatball of stitched faces.
As for Kael, he began to bring down a serious amount of fire and life-giving flame into the lake.
Blood blackened and dried, yet it seemed that there was a nearly endless supply!
The sewers gushed red endlessly. All the rain that had poured over these lands during the entirety of the two week siege had accumulated into a serious supply for Lana''thel.
The former Queen retaliated, and had tendrils of blood swinging in the air in an attempt to tentacle both Kael, and Jan''alai.
At the same time, a two pronged attack against Varrus . A surge of liquid was crashing upon his tower, and climbing upward like it had a life of its own. At the same time, it was eating away at the foundation of his tower, and decaying the soil underneath!
Frozen Orb after Frozen Orb splashed into the viscous liquid, exploding after making contact, and creating a winter wonderland of sanguine snow.
This slowed down the progress of the attack upon his building, yet the endless tide would flow over the snow, and melt that which had been frozen.
He tried out the Raise Wall spell a few more times, but it acted only as a stop gap. The stones were powerful thanks to his Spell Power, but ultimately, the decaying effect of the blood only needed to drill a small hole in the wall to make it worthless.
Varrus grimly came to the realization that his tower might collapse. Then, he would have to flee on his flying carpet. He didn''t have enough room for the entourage he brought with him, so he''d probably have to yeet them away with telekinesis.
Whilst Varrus was annoyed that he might have to abandon the Tower of Jenga, he caught sight of Telonicus''s floating weapons platform.
Of course! Blood Elves had levitating buildings all throughout Quel''Thalas!
Varrus had been so busy studying his Mana Crystal magic, cleansing the city, meeting with the Kobolds, and a hundred other things that he never learned how to levitate buildings!
¡°Telonicus! I need you to levitate my tower!¡± Varrus pulled up his scrying orb, and sent a priority message.
The engineer''s face appeared on the orb, and he looked annoyed. His expression seemed to say ¡®do it yourself, I''m busy.¡¯
Varrus''s eyebrow twitched, he had received a similar expression once when asking a coworker for tech support. But now wasn''t the time to get hung up over trivialities.
¡°...100 Mana Stones.¡±
¡°Done!¡± Varrus instantly replied, uncaring to bargain over the price since he was on a timer crunch. Any delay would mean his tower could be toppled over at any time, and all the resources that went into making the enchanted bricks would have gone to waste.
¡°Pleasure doing business with you, Highlord.¡± Telonicus said in a perfunctory tone, and cut the call.
A moment later, the engineer emerged from a portal, and took a look at Varrus''s tower.
¡°Protect me as I inscribe the runes.¡± Telonicus said flatly, then got to work before Varrus could even acknowledge him.
¡®Math heads.¡¯ Varrus rolled his eyes, but kept his mouth shut. If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.
He''d take a single, socially inept, brilliant scientist over a hundred friendly do-nothings any day.
Telonicus was a character, that was to be sure.
Meanwhile, Varrus had one more ace up his sleeve to buy them some time.
Fortunately, the blood gave off a powerful stench of decay, and not Life energy. Which meant, compared to when he fought against Tha''salah''s sap, Varrus''s restoration magic was super effective!
Ordinarily, he would use his go-to spell, Infinite Light. The beam was a powerful concentration attack, and great for cleansing the land.
However, the vast pool of blood was something large, that he wanted to go with one of his less used-yet no less powerful-spells. Something that had a wider radius, and was more applicable to lay down some AOE.
He went with the Master tier Restoration spell: Star Storm.
Raising his hands high, Varrus channeled some Holy energies, and held a pose as the spell required him to constantly concentrate on the magic.
Seconds later, bright lights formed in the sky, and began to fall all around Varrus in a cacophony of violence.
The projectiles weren''t any larger than a tennis ball, but they came down in the thousands every second.
Large chunks of blood hissed and sizzled due to Varrus¡¯s attack.
Lana''thel must not have appreciated it, as several waves taller than the last came crashing down. Varrus felt the tower shake, and glanced at Telonicus, yet received no indication as to the engineer''s progress.
Several more waves rocked the tower, and Varrus could see the foundation begin to almost completely come loose.
He wanted to question Telonicus, but doing so would be like prodding the bear. If you wanted quality, you never rushed a tech.
Biting his tongue to remain silent, Varrus kept on casting Star Storm, and continued to melt away at the endless lake as much as he could.
Varrus was so intune with his spell, he almost slipped when the tower jolted, and began to slowly lean towards a 60 degree angle.
Rho''dan caught him before he could fall off the edge, however, the guard was beginning to slip as well.
Varrus was about to write the tower off as a loss, and unfurl his flying carpet, when Telonicus said the magic words every tech illiterate person wanted to hear.
¡°It''s done.¡± Telonicus muttered, and with the snap of his finger, the Tower of Jenga levitated into the air.
Varrus had the Mana Stones embedded within the tower pulse, and fried any of the sticky sanguine substance that tried to cling onto the tower as it rose.
¡°100 Mana Stones, I''ll send a bill after the battle is concluded. Control has been sent to your scrying orb.¡± Telonicus nodded, and spoke no differently than a mechanic changing the oil. To him, it was all business.
The Royal Engineer then walked through another portal, and disappeared to another part of the battlefield.
¡°To charge money in the midst of a war. He has no shame.¡± One of the Crossguard spat to the side.
¡°Your magnanimous donation of weapons, armor and golems to the King demonstrate your virtue, Highlord.¡± Another Crossguard flattered.
¡°Alright men, focus. The Highlord needs silence to think out his next move.¡± Rho''dan rebuked his compatriots, and cut the chatter.
Varrus nodded thankfully at Rho''dan, and grinned. If only the rest of his troops were privy to the amount of money he would make from cleansing the Dead Scar. Or how many of the enchanting materials/ores he had taken for his own personal use in the name of security?
However, Rho''dan was correct, the endless ocean of decayed blood had been by perhaps 10 to 20% over the course of around half an hour of fighting.
This entire time it was being bombarded by Kael''s Phoenix Fire, Jan''alai''s breath attacks, Varrus Light spells, and hundreds of miscellaneous magic attacks from the Arcane Cannons, and mages in the distance.
As it stood, Varrus only had so many Mana Stones left on hand, and there was no way that the rest of the Elven forces were doing well. In fact, he had already seen several Elves fall down due to mana sickness, and a lack of energy.
A battle of attrition was not in the cards for this one.
It became increasingly clear to Varrus how important, and OP the Sunwell was to the Highborn.
Depending on Archimonde''s status, Varrus decided he might have to restart the Sunwell sooner than later, because losing due to a lack of mana was unacceptable.
The more he watched Kael unleash torrent after torrent of flame, only to see it eventually become smothered was disappointing.
He knew that Kael was making progress, that if the Sunwell was around, he could easily snipe the pool, and burn the traitor out.
But instead, Kael had to take more risks, and had Al''ar perform dive bomb attacks so that the Phoenix could run his claws within the pool. All the while, the young King would slash his powerful sword into the blood, and cleanse large swathes with every swing.
This method of attack was impactful, yet extremely dangerous. Already, Varrus had witnessed the tendrils almost catch Al''ar''s talons, and specks of diseased blood had landed on his feathers, forcing the Phoenix to waste mana molting the rot and decay away.
All this risk taking gave Varrus a headache, and a queasy feeling that Kael would eventually be caught.
He considered continuing his Star Storm, Frozen Orb, Apocalypse combo. To throw everything he had into the lake, however, Telonicus''s floating weapons platform gave him inspiration once more.
The Tower of Jenga was levitating now too, and it was chock full of Mana Stones.
Varrus had been studying and working on the Vandercross Family Magic for a few weeks now, and had made some progress.
While he couldn''t make a forest, have the crystal transform, or turn the energy into Elementals, he had been practicing the absorption and release of mana.
With the Tower of Jenga, Varrus had found a way to shoot a beam directly up, like a skyscraper shining lights into the sky.
However, ever since he had that talk with Telonicus months ago, he had forgotten all about his floating platform idea.
Now that the Tower of Jenga was in the air, not only could he shoot a beam up, but he could direct it to the ground as well!
Not only was there an incredible amount of mana stored within-some of which had been absorbed by the blood storm-but while he had been casting Star Storm earlier, he had inadvertently struck many of the crystals, and had attuned them with the Holy attribute!
Varrus adjusted the tower, and had it levitate towards the central location of the battlefield. Its movement speed was relatively slow, moving at perhaps 30mph. However, the building was an ominous sight.
Standing on high, Varrus for the first time truly felt like a Magus King from legend. The design of the tower made him think of ancient Babylon, or the pharaohs of old. Whilst he stood gazing down at the filthy ocean, he couldn''t help but let the arrogance get to him. Everything he surveyed was but trash to be vaporized.
During Varrus''s brief megalomaniac interlude, Kael was desperately trying to cut his way out of a tendril, and was on the verge of being caught when the shadow of a colossus shaded him from the sun.
8 stories of magically enchanted bricks shone brightly as golden hued, giant crystals lit up like the brightest of fireworks.
Varrus madly cackled, like some sort of insane scientist, as his tower sucked in ambient mana like a locust swarm devouring a farmer''s crops.
A second later, a massive beam like none Varrus had seen before dropped down from his tower.
The whooshing sound was like no other.
Golden light briefly blinded Varrus''s eyes as he looked on in glee.
Over 85% of the bloodwell had been vaporized!
Truly, Light magic against Death magic was just a cheat code. It was like using a water pokemon in a rock type gym.
Simply put, it was unfair!
Varrus''s grin widened as he saw the Holy magic had left Kael, and any other person or object left unharmed.
The beam wasn''t a concussive attack, like a Hammer of Justice. No, it was pure energy.
From Varrus''s POV, it was like a nuclear firestorm that healed instead of destroyed.
It was wonderful.
However, every crystal attached to the tower had been used, and crumbled into dust. Furthermore, Varrus only had a few dozen more Mana Stones in his inventory, as he had been absorbing them like mad to keep up with his astounding expenditure.
The fight needed to end soon.
Looking down, Varrus saw that there was perhaps an Olympic swimming pool''s worth of blood left.
In fact, Lana''thel had emerged from within, and was engaging Kael in melee.
Large claws constantly clashed with Kael''s sword, and Al''ar''s talons.
Lana''thel was fast, but Kael was surprisingly skilled with a sword. The pair of duelists moved quickly, reminding Varrus of anime characters when they clashed.
However, Lana''thel was not skilled in close quarters combat, and was only so dangerous due to the boost provided by the blood.
Already, Kael had scored several wounds on her, yet she regenerated them each time.
Even if the blood pool was swiftly diminishing, she kept going at Kael as if she didn''t have a care in the world.
This large amount of self healing was annoying, and Varrus had a contingency for dealing with it, but it didn''t seem necessary as the large pool had reduced in size to an average sized family pool. Lana''thel was on the verge of death.
Varrus thought his friend had it in the bag when Kael''s sword pierced her heart, however, the insane witch''s claw entered Kael''s chest at the same time as she traded a wound for a wound.
Al''ar tried clawing her away, but she stuck to Kael like glue. Her mouth opened wide, and beastly fangs sprouted forth.
Varrus felt his breath hitch at the sudden development, and acted before thinking.
He Blinked down next to them so he could work his magic at near point blank range, then he cast his contingency plan for cockroach regenerators: Bloodseeker.
Bloodseeker: Casts a homing flare at a target. When it reaches the target, it heals or deals magic damage equal to 175% of the Health the target gained or lost while it was in flight.
Lana''thel froze for a second when the spell hit her. She looked back at Varrus in horror and fear before she evaporated from this plane.
Varrus paid her no mind, and rushed to Kael''s side. He cast Dispel Magic, and a healing spell on him quick as can be.
¡°Kael, buddy, are you okay?¡± Varrus said in a hurry.
¡°Help me up, I must appear strong for the people.¡± Kael held out a hand.
Varrus hauled Kael to his feet, and patted him on the shoulder.
He opened his mouth to say something, but Rho''dan Blinked next to him.
¡°Report, Tha''salah has been subdued, I report, Tha''salah has been subdued!¡± Rho''dan saluted Kael, and Varrus.
¡°Subdued and not slain?¡± Varrus questioned in surprise.
¡°I do not know the specifics, but Valanar and General Nightsong worked some druidic magic, and soothed the World Tree. Lady Syra was critical in distracting Tha''salah, buying them time to finish the job.¡± Rho''dan shrugged his shoulders as he replied.
A moment later, Jan''alai came crashing down with the meatball in her talons. The many faced monster was damaged beyond belief, and trying to screech, but she wouldn''t let it, and ripped it apart with her beak.
¡°It''s finally over.¡± Kael breathed in relief.
¡°No my friend, it has only just begun. Quel''Thalas is just the beginning.¡± Varrus put a hand on Kael''s shoulder, and gestured towards the mountain range south of Deatholme.
On the other side lay Stratholme, and the Plaguelands.
The true war to purify the Eastern Kingdoms was on the horizon.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
AN: Read 25 chapters ahead at: karp pa treon
Chapter 103
The battle over Deatholme had concluded, and with the death of Lana''thel, Varrus and Kael had made swift work of the remaining crazed Darkfallen.
There was so much carnage, dried blood, and disgusting vital fluids, that Varrus had power washed a good 60% of the city streets with Infinite Light. The beam spell purified the land, and eliminated most of the horrendous stench wafting in the air.
After they had cleansed the city of any remaining Undead, Varrus found himself alongside the rest of the Convocation, and the Monarchists sitting at a table within the ruined remains of Deatholme''s castle.
Over half the structure had been blasted to smithereens thanks to Varrus''s bombardment, yet it was made of sturdy stones, and had a chamber large enough to host Quel''Thalas''s Heroes.
Before everyone sat down, and the meeting could begin, everyone in the chamber was standing around, and engaging in small talk. Varrus took this time to find Syra, and embrace her in a tight hug.
¡°You made me worry.¡± Varrus muttered as he gently nibbled her ear.
¡°Sorry. I wanted to impress Nightsong.¡± Syra ducked her head.
Varrus blew a cold current of air on Syra''s ear, causing her to shiver.
Chuckling to himself, Varrus clunked his forehead against hers.
¡°Hey, it''s okay it just means we have to communicate with each other. The next time something like that happens, we can just send a quick message via scrying orb. That way, we don''t have to keep guessing at each other''s safety.¡± Varrus raised her by the chin, and planted a firm kiss on her lips.
¡°Mnn.¡± Syra smiled at Varrus, and rubbed her head into his chest.
¡°Thatta girl.¡± Varrus encouraged, whilst he worked his fingers in small circles on her back.
Syra made a cute expression when he felt a knot come undone.
Grinning at her movements, Varrus was reminded of a dog wagging its tail, asking for more.
¡°So how did it go? Rho''dan informed me that you subdued Tha''salah? And it was with Prince Valanar''s aid no less.¡± Varrus questioned.
¡°It was okay¡¡± Syra said trailingly in a small voice.
Varrus blinked. He did not like the sound of that.
¡°Want to talk about it?¡± Varrus asked in concern.
¡°Not really¡but when I was all set to save your mother and impress everyone, Valanar and Lor''Themar whispered to the stupid big tree, and made it surrender before I could do much.¡± Syra pouted, and glared at the Prince who was sitting in a mana suppressing cage to the side. She then harrumphed at the sight of Lor''Themar standing next to Nightsong.
The white haired Prince was simply sitting there meditating, and looked like he didn''t have a care in the world.
Varrus felt a headache at this development. Syra, his loving wife had gone off and tried to impress Nightsong, only to be one upped by a pretty druid and the charismatic Ranger General.
In fact, said Ranger General was currently making Nightsong cover her mouth in suppressed laughter.
The long haired blonde winked at Varrus when he caught his eye, and subtly nodded towards Nightsong.
Ah hell no! Was Lor''Themar interested in pursuing his mother?!
Admittedly, they were not close as mother and son, but dammit Lor''Themar!
Varrus''s eyelid twitched, and his face froze in a rictus-like grin.
¡°Varrus?¡± Syra tapped him on the forehead to get his attention.
¡°Hm? What?¡±
¡°Everyone is sitting down, but if you''re comfortable being here, so am I.¡± Syra whispered in a half giggle, half serious tone.
Varrus realized he was in a bit of a compromising position, what with his hand massaging her back. He imagined to an outsider, he must look like the Addams Family parents making out and dirty talking in public.
Wiping a hand down his face, Varrus patted Syra on the cheek, and nodded in thanks before he went to take his seat in the middle of the table.
Once everyone sat down, Varrus got to work.
¡°Members of the Convocation, Kings Council, and His Majesty Kael¡¯Thas, victory has been achieved. The civil war is over, and Quel''Thalas is whole once more, however, there is still much to be done if we wish to maintain this security.¡± Varrus announced to the room, and looked everyone in the eye.
¡°But before we begin our discussions of the future, we must discuss the present. Pathaleon, you are an accomplished logistician, what are our losses, what is the surviving tally of Quel''Thalas, and what is the state of our economy, can we afford to wage a long term war?¡± Varrus asked one question after another towards the somewhat cowardly, yet well learned man.
Pathaleon the ¡®Calculator¡¯ was the treasurer and herald of the previous administration, and although he wasn''t as math smart as Telonicus, his talents lied in logistical support. While Varrus had had a run in with the man when he first transmigrated 4 months ago, that didn''t mean Varrus would kill or dismiss Pathaleon like some blood crazed lunatic.
To Varrus, it was okay to have some disagreements, because at the end of the day, all that mattered to him was whether or not the job was completed. And Pathaleon, for all his political maneuvering, was no threat to Varrus, and was an integral piece to the running of the nation.
¡°Ahem, our losses amongst Highborn are slim. Thanks to the potions provided by House Vandercross, and the efforts of our priests, less than 1,000 Highborn have perished in this campaign.¡± Pathaleon looked at Varrus, and politely applauded.
¡°Hear, hear!¡± Koren loudly clapped along, only to abruptly stop when he saw no one else was clapping along. Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.
Varrus felt Syra pinch his shoulder from behind, but he refused to look around, and maintained a serious expression as he looked at Pathaleon.
¡°Continue.¡± Varrus gestured with his hand.
¡°Yes. Unfortunately, the majority of our golems are completely lost, or heavily damaged beyond repair. Less than 500 golems survived the fight, and none of Lord Vandercross¡¯s iron golems remain.¡± Pathaleon bowed his head at Varrus.
¡°Dire news indeed. Although an eyesore, those iron golems of yours proved sufficient.¡± Tae''thelon''s cultured voice butted in.
¡°Indeed, by my estimates, the golems reduced casualty rates by over 37.33%¡± Telonicus added on.
¡°It is of little consequence. With the compact I have forged with the Longcandle tribe, the Kobolds will supply us with the minerals and components necessary to forge new golems.¡± Varrus said with finality.
¡°So you truly managed to rope those rodents into the fold? What-ever will the Humans and Dwarves in the Alliance think of this? Tsk tsk.¡± Tae''thelon swirled a goblet of wine, and took a sip with a look of schadenfreude upon his face.
¡°The Headmaster is correct, the rodents deserve nothing but death. But he is also wrong. Who cares what the other members of the Alliance think? Has Quel''Thalas ever been subject to the whims of Humans and Dwarves?¡± Thaladred spoke harshly from one end of the table. The dark knight slammed his plated fist down upon the table as he seethed.
¡°So this is a typical meeting of the Convocation?¡± Kael chuckled aloud, silencing the table.
¡°What are your thoughts on the Kobold matter, my liege?¡± Lor''Themar stroked his goatee, and asked in a neutral tone.
Kael glanced at the Ranger General appreciatively, then addressed the table.
¡°The First Seat informed me of the Kobolds more than a month ago. It is only now that we have reclaimed Quel''Thalas that we have time to codify his efforts. It is my understanding that you not only made friends with the Kobolds, but have transformed them into a client state?¡± Kael steepled his fingers, and spoke directly at Varrus.
Varrus barely withheld a smirk, and internally thanked Kael for this bit of political theater. With the King as his best friend, there really wasn''t any proposition Varrus couldn''t pass.
¡°Yes, Your Majesty. The Longcandle tribe have agreed to become our dependents. Unlike the flimsy Alliance that was dominated by Human policy, the Convocation is ruled directly by us.¡± Varrus let loose with a shark-like grin at everyone present.
Koren eagerly nodded back, Liadrin looked thoughtful, Thaladred stoic, Telonicus lost in mathematics, Lor''Themar amused, and maybe even a shred of respect from Tae''thelon.
¡°Putting the vermin under our control. Vandercross, I do not know how you did it, but I wish we had done so earlier. This, I can approve of.¡± Tae''thelon raised his glass in an arrogant manner, and tipped his head towards Varrus in a sign of respect.
¡°Thank you, Headmaster. I have further plans for the Convocation, but we can get to that part later. Pathaleon, if you would. We may have gotten sidetracked, but we must learn of the realms resources before we make any decision towards the future.¡± Varrus took a sip of tea, and nodded towards the Calculator.
¡°Thank you, Highlord. Now, as the losses in this conflict were light, I have a final tally for the total number of Highborn in Quel''Thalas.¡± Pathaleon explained, and passed a sheet with some figures on it.
Silvermoon: 323,890
Tranquillien: 46,732
Sunsail Anchorage: 176,545
Deatholme: 0
Minor Towns/Hamlets: 31,700
Friendly Darkfallen: 34,792
Total Living: 578,867
Total + DF: 613,659
(Pre-Scourge population: 1,736,601)
Doing some quick math, Varrus came to the realization that about 33%~ of the population had survived the Scourge invasion.
It was an incredibly tragic situation. Unfortunately, he wasn''t stronger from the start, otherwise, even more would have survived. However, at the very least, Varrus knew that he was making an impact.
Canonically, something like 98% of all High Elves were supposed to die when the Scourge attacked.
Nodding his head, Varrus aimed to do better moving forward. The future would be full of perils, but Kael had matured, and Quel''Thalas was on track to becoming a powerhouse. History had already been changed, and what was done, was done.
Once the paper had been passed around, most people had grim looks, yet the info was not surprising. Everyone here was a survivor, and had fought tooth and nail for survival. Some painful statistics would not dampen their morale.
In fact, glancing at his compatriots, the low number only seemed to invigorate everyone, and bind them together towards achieving a common goal.
Elves may be a fickle race prone to backstabbing, but when it came to opposing outsiders, they were locked in.
Pathaleon nodded at everyone once he received the sheet back, and resumed his presentation.
¡°Now, as for the economy, it is not looking good. The supply of Mana Stones can barely meet the demand, and between the war, experiments, and stockpiling for emergencies, it is not looking good. Already we are rationing what we use, but it is not enough. Between supplying Liadrin''s army, House Vandercross, the Sunfury, and this siege, we are in dire straits. Whatever plan you have to restart the Sunwell Highlord, I recommend it is completed sooner than later.¡± Pathaleon grimaced at Varrus with a haunted look that only a corporate employee who routinely worked with numbers could give.
Varrus felt like a CEO that was just informed that all of his stock had lost its value.
He had to supply enough mana for HALF A MILLION people. And if they didn''t get their fix, they would transform into mana addicted crack gremlins.
Varrus palmed his forehead in consternation. He never thought being a drug supplier would be such a pain in the ass. Yeah, it gave him fiat control over the economy and a shit ton of power. But his people were the worst.
¡°Telonicus, how long until we have enough Rune Stones to mask a resurgent Sunwell?¡± Varrus tiredly questioned.
¡°Three to six months. It all depends on the shift of the leylines, and finding the perfect place to set the stones.¡± Telonicus responded.
¡°There''s your answer, Pathaleon.¡± Varrus shrugged.
¡°Not ideal, but we can make it work with further rationing.¡± Pathaleon nodded, and input some info in his scrying orb.
¡°Lastly, whilst we are doing well on foodstuffs, we are almost completely out of reagents. The potions in this campaign prevented an estimated 23,789 wounded, and 62,454 deaths. I need not stress how vital they were in strengthening, and speeding up warriors, defusing poisons, or healing wounds.¡± Pathaleon intoned with a severe expression.
¡°I can help with that!¡± A voice sounding like it came from a K-pop star sounded out.
Turning in his seat, Varrus took hold of the imprisoned prince.
¡°I am a friend of the green.¡± Valanar whimsically blew a strand of his hair away from his eyes, and looked at them, yet seemed like he was looking at something that wasn''t there at the same time.
The perfect looking pretty boy gave Varrus an odd feeling, but he decided to remain silent, and looked to Kael.
Although he had captured him, Varrus decided he would leave Valanar''s fate to Kael since they were half-brothers.
They had just won a civil war, and even if he was Undead, Valanar was of royal lineage and remained a claimant to the throne. From Varrus''s POV, he would support whatever decision his best friend came to.
For Kael''s part, he looked conflicted. As if he wanted to say yes, but then he would get an austere Kingly look about him, and he looked like he was on the verge of ordering his brother''s execution then and there.
It was a little sad for Varrus to see his friend war between hopeful innocence, and that of a cold monarch.
¡°...thank you Valanar, but We do not require your-¡±
¡°Ah, let him do it Goldilocks, the little guy calmed down the World Tree, that''s got to count for something, right?¡± Jan''alai piped up from behind Kael''s chair.
Like Syra, Jan''alai was not an official member of any group, and so was standing in as an unofficial advisor.
Kael frowned, and for once, displayed a look of anger at being interrupted by Jan''alai.
Varrus raised an eyebrow. It would seem the family strife had really hurt the young King. He''d have to find some time and shoot some fireballs with Kael mindlessly at something, and talk about nothing.
The pressures of leadership were heavy, and one of the best ways for a guy to blow off steam was to mess around with magic.
¡°I too shall add my voice towards Valanar''s defense. He was instrumental in our victory. Now he wishes to aid us further. To deny him this right of redemption¡it spits in the face of all Darkfallen who love this country.¡± Nightsong spoke up from her end of the table, utterly silencing Kael and everyone else.
¡®Goddamn!¡¯ Varrus raised his eyebrows even higher.
Taking a glance at Kael, he knew his friend wasn''t in the mood to be taking any shit from anybody-even if it was a fair argument-and he decided to go against his better judgment, and stepped in to mediate.
¡°A fair point, General Nightsong. Valanar has earned some trust from us, but the fact remains that he had taken up arms against us before his surrender. I suggest the Prince be placed into protective custody and under the watch of House Vandercross. Under my care, he can manage the Vandercross botanical gardens, and should he prove himself, then one day he may be free.¡± Varrus proposed essentially placing Valanar under house arrest as a compromise that hopefully would satisfy both parties.
¡°...very well. I will allow this.¡± Kael crossed his arms, and nodded at Varrus.
¡°It is good to see a sensible decision coming from a Sunstrider for once.¡± Nigntsong nodded, then turned back to whispering with Lor''Themar.
Varrus let out a sigh of relief that the compromise had worked. A conflict between Nightsong and Kael would be the last thing he wanted. Civil war part 2 electric boogaloo was not on his bingo card, and something he prayed would never happen.
Clearly a few people were hot under the collar, and could use a bit of cooling off.
¡°Okay, let''s take a half hour break, then resume this meeting. Some fresh air will do us all some good.¡± Varrus said, then stood up.
Varrus internally chuckled as he saw the sour expression on his friend''s face. Kael may have admonished the group at the beginning, but he turned out to be just another player in their game.
Locking eyes with Syra, he found her meaningful grin and wink of the eye to be so silly.
Allowing himself to be dragged to an unoccupied room, Varrus felt her hands removing his robe at lightning speeds.
This woman wanted 12 kids, and nothing would get in her way of realizing that dream, not even some stuffy meeting determining the fate of Quel¡¯Thalas!
Chapter 104
After some quick lovemaking, Varrus and Syra were returning to the meeting room when he spotted Nightsong and Lor''Themar engaging in a spar out in the courtyard.
The pair of generals were moving with fluidity and grace that Varrus only hoped he could match one day.
Lor''Themar, with his twin blades, and Nightsong, with her sword and shield were testing one another in terms of pure skill.
No mana coated their weapons, or exploded outward as a manifestation of their energy.
All they focused on was precision, footwork, and timing.
Watching two of the most accomplished melee specialists in the kingdom spar was extraordinary, and made Varrus realize Nightsong had likely gone easy on him when they had their duel.
As the intensity of their fight picked up, Varrus had a better understanding of why Lor''Themar in the original timeline was picked as the regent lord of Quel''Thalas whilst Kael when traipsing to Outland.
The old man had skills!
¡°I should be down there.¡± Syra held onto her bustersword''s handle, and looked towards the courtyard in envious eagerness.
¡°Then we shall.¡± Varrus gripped Syra in a side hug.
¡°No, wait-¡± Syra embarrassedly got out, but was cut off as Varrus Blinked them both into the courtyard.
Lor''Themar glanced at them for a moment, but Nightsong had no such distractions, and clobbered the Ranger General in the chin for his trouble.
Lor''Themar regained his balance, and swept his blades at her knees, only for it to be a feint, and knee her in the midsection.
Both fighters grinned at one another, and Lor''Themar wiped his chin, removing a dribble of blood.
Varrus narrowed his eyes at the seeming comradery, but was quick to draw his sword when Lor''Themar suddenly lunged at him.
A second later, Varrus heard numerous clashes of steel on steel, indicating that Syra and Nightsong were going at it as well.
Varrus fumbled with his sword, unprepared for the sudden development, and only just got his sword up in time to deflect one sword, then catch the flat of Lor''Themar''s other blade to his knee.
Stumbling forward, Varrus was forced to roll forward to evade a cross slash, and caught a glancing blow to his shin for his troubles.
His leg stung, but Varrus grit his teeth and began to analyze Lor''Themar''s form.
During all this conflict, Varrus''s one-handed skill had risen to 73, and with it, his ability to comprehend one-handed weaponry had drastically increased.
As a result, when he watched, and physically experienced Lor''Themar fight, he had a baseline understanding behind the how''s and why''s of his actions, and fighting style.
From his POV, Lor''Themar was taking this much more seriously than when they first sparred, and had begun to demonstrate stances and moves in between a flurry of slices, stabs, and cuts.
Varrus locked swords with the Ranger General, and caught him looking at Nightsong''s behind.
¡°Your mother is a truly skilled woman. Your swift learning speed with the blade must come from her.¡± Lor''Themar complimented him.
¡°You are as transparent as a glass of water.¡± Varrus rolled his eyes in reply.
¡°Am I now? Then I suppose we both can replace the stench of the plague with our sweat this fine day..¡± Lor''Themar grinned at Varrus, and shoved him backwards.
Varrus squinted his eyes at Lor''Themar, yet the damned old man kept up his grin, and winked at him like an uncle that watched a nephew discover the joys of the internet for the first time.
Sure, Varrus was getting busy with his wife, but when Lor''Themar said it like that, it made Varrus feel dirty. It didn''t help that the handsome old man was very clearly making moves on his mom.
¡°Ah, that sour expression is quite something. Where has the typical Vandercross arrogance gone, I wonder?¡± Lor''Themar taunted as he began to dodge each of Varrus''s swipes at the last second, and had refused to strike back.
¡°Just. Just stop talking, damned old man, and fight me already!¡± Varrus seethed, and barely kept himself from yelling.
¡°Let''s see how your two on two skills are.¡± Lor''Themar replied, then suddenly he turned his back to Varrus, and blocked an attack from Syra.
¡®Chance!¡¯ Varrus thought to himself, and rushed at Lor''Themar''s back, only to catch a shield to the chest.
Feeling the wind go from his lungs, Varrus tumbled sideways for a second before he righted himself, and sprang to his feet.
Preparing himself to meet Nightsong, he was surprised to see Syra getting double teamed, and being forced back.
He was about to join the frey when a boisterous laugh echoed in the courtyard. If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
¡°Don''t worry bestie, I''m here for you!¡±
The shout was followed up by a thump and raised of dust as the green, muscular Troll dropped down from the second story, and ran at Nightsong, club in hand.
Jan''alai had a wider grin on her face as she smashed into Nightsong''s shield.
¡°The King''s paramour. How novel.¡± Nightsong muttered, and examined Jan''alai curiously.
¡°Stop disrespecting Syra, ya hear! She''s a good, honest woman who loves Varrus with all her heart!¡± Jan''alai angrily remarked, and used her extra reach to snake a leg behind Nightsong with the intent to trip her up.
However, the ancient warrior replied by stabbing her sword into Jan''alai''s thigh, halting her in her tracks.
¡°You go too far, General!¡± Kael''s voice thundered from the second story.
Powerful energies twirled around the King, and the air became thick with the tang of mana.
¡°Reeelax, Goldilocks! She''s just playing rough! Two can play at that game!¡± Jan''alai shouted back at Kael, then dropped her club, and used both her hands to hold Nightsong in place.
The Forest Troll then began to headbash Nightsong on the forehead repeatedly.
Kael levitated down to stand beside Varrus, and had a conflicted look of fury, pride, and awe mixed on his face.
As for Varrus, he too was surprised by Jan''alai''s ferocity.
It just went to show that no matter the race, or time lived, a Hero was a Hero. It suddenly made sense to Varrus how the Trolls could prove to be such a throne in the Elf and Humans¡¯ sides.
In a way, Jan''alai was like a jinchuriki from Naruto, except instead of a tailed beast residing in her, she had a Wild God known as a Loa.
Although it was an aggressive maneuver on Jan''alai''s part, Nightsong was not using any magic, or the enchantments in the gear. So to Varrus, Jan''alai had a very powerful natural edge over most people-even Elves-when it came to physical attributes.
Loud smacks resounded in the courtyard as forehead met forehead, yet Nightsong was smiling!
In fact, the Undead General released her hold on her sword, and gave back everything Jan''alai delivered with interest!
Jan''alai stumbled backward from a concussion, and ripped the sword from her thigh. Her wound rapidly healed within seconds, and the Troll began to slash at the Elf.
Nightsong responded by picking up the club, and the two engaged in a furious melee.
Varrus and Kael were standing on the sideline, shocked by the sudden turn of events.
Glancing at Syra, Varrus saw that she was none too happy, having her thunder seemingly stolen like that, and was taking it out on Lor''Themar. However, the two were evenly matched, and his wife couldn''t get the upper hand on Lor''Themar no matter how much she tried.
They were all so focused on their individual battles, that Varrus took the opportunity to cast Shroudwalk on himself, and flanked Lor''Themar.
¡®Attack me without warning, openly flirt with my mother. Hmm, we''ll see about that!¡¯ Varrus huffed, and thought to himself.
The next time Lor''Themar was forced to reposition in his fight with Syra, Varrus placed an Acceleration Rune right where he was going to land.
Lor''Themar''s eyes went wide as his momentum was multiplied by a huge margin, and he was flung face first into a nearby wall.
He hardened his body with mana, and took the hit like a champ, but he was out of the fight when Varrus immediately cast Paralyze on him whilst he was still embedded in the wall.
Varrus withheld laughter as the old man was stuck in a pose with his arms extended outward. Lor''Themar looked like he was trying to make a snow angel with the castle bricks!
¡°If you''re going to cheat, then so am I.¡± Kael witnessed everything, and muttered to himself.
The young King glanced at the spot where a sword had pierced Jan''alai a moment ago, and narrowed his eyes.
He began to cast a spell, however, both Jan''alai and Syra were pressed into the ground by Nightsong''s superior skills. She then looked Kael dead in the eye.
Nightsong didn''t say anything, but her posture was provocative in its nature, the silence threatening more so than anything words could be.
Varrus recalled his initial meeting with Nightsong, as well as the heated conversation half an hour ago. The General seemed to have some beef with the current political system, and the Sunstriders specifically.
If he didn''t step in, this kerfuffle could transform into another civil war.
Picking up his sword, Varrus hesitated for a second, then cut himself along the chest.
¡°Oh, owe, Lor''Themar take it easy, we are only sparring!¡± Varrus dramatically staggered forward, and wore a grief filled face. He let the very real pain add to his sell.
Nightsong dropped the club, and practically teleported to Varrus''s side. Her expression was fraught with concern and worry.
¡°Varrus-¡± Syra began, but washed arrived a beat later, and was shushed by Nightsong, who was running a green glowing hand up and down Varrus''s midsection.
The thin crimson line spread across Varrus''s chest healed within seconds of Nightsong''s ministrations.
While this was going on, Kael was red in the face on the sideline, and his mana was slightly erratic.
As someone who had witnessed Varrus paralyzing Lor''Themar, Kael obviously knew what was going on, and angrily stepped forward, magic still lighting up his fingertips.
Varrus desperately waved at Jan''alai, and nudged her with his telekinesis.
The Forest Troll stood up from a healed concussion, and moved to return Nightsong''s sword.
¡°That. Was. AWESOME! I knew you were the best bard in town, but who knew your mom could kick ass!¡± Jan''alai laughed at Varrus, then nodded at Nightsong.
¡°I am fortunate to have such great people as friends and family.¡± Varrus humbly bowed, and discreetly nudged Kael in the side.
¡°True! We girls are the best, eh?¡± Jan''alai wrapped her twin pythons around Nightsong and Syra by the shoulders, her infectious grin made even the two serious Elven ladies smile slightly.
As a result of the back and forth, Kael had lowered his hands, and Nightsong looked away.
Crisis averted.
Varrus sighed in relief, and watched on in amusement as Jan''alai practically dragged Nightsong and Syra back into the meeting room.
Her loud voice boomed in the halls, and lewd jokes unfit for children''s ears graced the once vibrant halls.
As the sound of their laughter became distant, Varrus placed a hand on Kael''s shoulder, and cast a shroud of Muffle around them to keep their conversation private.
¡°I feel you, buddy. It''s tough to watch the woman you love go through strife, or be harmed while you can''t do anything about it.¡± Varrus spoke in a comforting tone.
¡°...you are right, my friend. But your mother irks me to no end. She commands a force of over 30,000 and I hear murmurs of her from the rank and file soldiers. To them, she is a legend made real. When they speak of her ability to polymorph, to seamlessly command thousands whilst fighting¡it makes me. It makes me jealous. Furthermore, I worry that she may cause civil strife. I worry that she will drive our friendship apart, that you will go against me.¡± Kael said wistfully as he stared off into the distance with a complicated expression upon his face.
¡°Kael¡¡± Varrus stared at his one and only true friend, speechless.
¡°I do not know if you are aware of Nightsong, but my father''s memoirs detail the time before we landed in Quel''Thalas. After the sundering of the world when the Well of Eternity exploded, new continents were forming, and life was as cheap as a handful of grain.
We once numbered in the tens of millions, but had been reduced to a number even less than we are today. It was a time of chaos just as, if not more brutal than we are undergoing now¡and Nightsong was the General that everyone looked to.
Her strategy and charisma were second to none. If my father''s notes are to be believed, you may be her son, but she has been dead for thousands of years. Which means you must have been placed in stasis or hidden for some purpose.
There is a plot surrounding you and me, and I don''t like it. Nightsong is suspicious, and I fear for my people, for my love, and for the future of our friendship.¡± Kael spoke seriously, and kicked some nearby rubble as he let out some pent up emotions.
¡°I understand your concerns. So long as you don''t become a Fel addict, you can always count on me.¡± Varrus said in a joking manner, and punched Kael on the shoulder.
¡°This isn''t a laughing matter. I''m trying to have a serious discussion here.¡± Kael frowned, and dodged a second follow up punch.
Varrus stopped what he was doing, and smiled at Kael.
¡°Look man, life is so serious. You have a kingdom and people to look after. I get that, and appreciate you sharing your concerns. I really do. But I am being serious, as long as you stay away from the Fel, I trust, and believe in you. You are a good person Kael, now help me keep watch.¡± Varrus said, then pulled out a paint can, and brush.
Kael stood in place mulling over his thoughts, then he looked up as he realized what was going on. He slapped his own forehead, yet couldn''t help but chuckle.
As much as things had changed between them, as much as they had grown older and matured, some things would always stay the same.
Kael chuckled to himself as he watched the First Seat of the Convocation begin to paint a goofy picture all around Lor''Themar who was implanted on the wall.
Varrus, would always be Varrus. He would always be his friend.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
AN: Yo, 40% Christmas sale on patreon till the 31st.
Read 25 chapters ahead only $6 at: karp pa tr eon
Chapter 105
Returning to the meeting room, Varrus took his seat at the center of the table, and nodded at everyone present.
¡°Good, now that everyone is here, we can discuss our plans for the future. For the agenda today, I have 4 things in mind.
- Sunwell Restoration & the Legion
- Securing The Ghostlands
- Darkfallen
- Advancing South
If anyone has anything else to add, now is the time to speak up.¡± Varrus said, opening the meeting by setting an agenda.
¡°Are we still on track for reconstruction? I hate to see our beautiful nation remain in such decrepit squalor.¡± Tae''thelon huffed.
¡°A good question, Headmaster. Silvermoon is cleansed of corruption, as is the isle of Quel''Danas. The capitol will take time to rebuild, but with our diminished population, it might be more worth our tike to focus on reconstructing other places first.¡± Varrus nodded his head in agreement, but also spoke in a cautioning tone.
¡°And leave the crown jewel of Quel''Thalas barren? Silvermoon is a symbol of Highborn supremacy. A subtle reminder of power cloaked in elegance. I do not care for our new path, allying ourselves with the lesser races. But if we are to control them, then we must instill upon them the majesty of the Highborn. I have helped set up the teleportation gates in Sunstrider Square, should you wish our fair city to serve as the new hub for an empire, it must be presentable.¡± Tae''thelon all but demanded in a haughty tone.
Glancing around the table, Varrus saw that a good 80% of the population was nodding along in agreement.
Even Koren, Varrus''s number one fan seemed to be in favor of Tae''thelon¡¯s plan.
Varrus was also partially in agreement. People judged you based upon the state of your house. Appearances mattered. What kind of message would Varrus be sending to his new vassals if they visited Silvermoon, but saw that half the city was in a wreck?
¡°Silvermoon is a priority, but let us not forget the walled fortress of Tranquillien, the walls of Deatholme, and the Elf Gates separating us from the Human lands. The Scourge are still a threat, and not only them, but my scouts have reported sightings of Undead Trolls roaming the Amani city-state of Zul''Aman.¡± Lor''Themar-cleaned of any paint-piped up from the side.
At the same time, he unfurled a map, and pointed to the south-eastern corner of the Ghostlands. Circled in red was the infamous capital city of the Amani people.
¡°Crush them before they can mobilize. We must be swift and end this menace once and for all.¡± Thaladred snarled, and directed a look of hostility at Jan''alai whilst doing so.
¡°What are the numbers, do they pose a serious threat?¡± Liadran''s soft voice questioned.
All eyes turned to Lor''Themar, curious as to the danger that the remnant Amani might be capable of.
¡°I do not have a specific number, but my scouts estimate somewhere between 40-80,000 have been risen. More join their ranks every day.¡± Lor''Themar explained.
¡°The Sunfury will handle this.¡± Kael''s voice spoke with authority, and brooked no disagreement.
His stern expression seemed to dare Nightsong to contradict him.
However, the General seemed aloof, and wasn''t forthcoming with a response.
Kael seemed satisfied, and leaned back into his seat, content that he had flexed his authority.
Varrus wanted to slap his own forehead at the general stupidity taking place between his friend and mother, but Zul''Aman did need to be secured.
If they advanced into the Plaguelands to the south without securing their flanks, them they were practically begging for an ass whooping.
¡°My knights will assist in this endeavor!¡± Koren loudly proclaimed.
¡°I would be happy to aid our brothers and sisters in the Light.¡± Liadran clasped her hands, and innocently smiled at Kael.
¡°There are still kin and lesser tribes under their yoke, I know it. Please, Kael, let me speak to them and reach an understanding.¡± Jan''alai reached a hand down, and said in an almost pleading voice.
Kael wore a conflicted look upon his face as more than half the Elves present looked at Jan''alai in silent condemnation.
¡°We will give them a chance.¡± Kael slightly inclined his head.
¡°That is all I ask.¡± Jan''alai exhaled heavily in relief.
Varrus raised a brow at their interplay. He felt bad that his friend had to balance romance and politics. It was not easy to make love or peace with a mortal enemy. But if there was anything that solved years of conflict back on Earth, it was marriage alliances.
Hopefully Jan''alai could be the link that snapped in this long chain of hatred.
¡°Very good, then if that is settled, let us discuss the renewal of the Sunwell.¡± Varrus clapped his hands to draw attention to himself, and move on to a topic that all Highborn held near and dear to their hearts.
¡°Yes, yes, you said it will be done once Telonicus has set the Rune Stones in place. We don''t want any big scary demons knowing about its restoration.¡± Tae''thelon tiredly sloshed the contents of his drink in a bored manner.
¡°True, I do not wish to rehash old talking points. However, there is another development we should be aware of. Someone bring in Valanar, I have a question for him.¡± Varrus looked over his shoulder, to which Rho''dan nodded, and left the room. If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
A minute later, the silver haired Prince was escorted inside by several Crossguard holding him at sword point.
¡°Valanar, you were in contact with the Legion, yes? When was the last time they messaged you or your mother?¡± Varrus questioned the whimsical Prince who was standing off to the side and was busy glancing aimlessly at a tiny flower growing from a crack in the wall.
¡°Mmm? About 2 weeks give or take?¡± Valanar responded without bothering to look towards Quel''Thalas''s most important Elves.
Varrus withheld a chuckle as he noticed Tae''thelon balk at the disrespect.
¡°Thank you, Valanar, you can go now.¡± Varrus shooed the Prince off.
¡°Ah!¡± Valanar gestured towards the flower in surprise before he was hauled off by the guards.
¡®One must be touched in the head to be truly talented as a druid. The Emerald Dream was no joke!¡¯ Varrus shook his head, then returned his attention to the meeting.
¡°And this is relevant how, exactly? Don''t tell me you brought the flower sniffer here to say less than a sentence?¡± Tae''thelon raised an eyebrow and scoffed.
¡°A sentence is all I needed for confirmation.¡± Varrus smirked at Tae''thelon knowingly.
¡°Enough with the theatrics, Varrus.¡± Lor''Themar plainly stated.
¡°Sure sure. Anyway, some time ago, I saw the attack on our kin through my spies.¡±
¡°Faedra''s spies.¡± Nightsong spoke up for the first time since the meeting began.
¡°Faedra''s spies.¡± Varrus inclined his head.
¡°But the point remains, I saw the Legion Commander, Archimonde, begin his assault. Now, there is no word? I find it difficult to imagine that a Demon of his caliber would remain silent all this time. I believe he is defeated. We should capitalize on this knowledge, and perhaps advance the time table of the Sunwell''s restoration.¡± Varrus eagerly turned to Telonicus, and proposed his plan.
¡°...three months at the earliest. I cannot guarantee anything more. Plan for six, but three is not impossible.¡± Telonicus frowned as he completed a few calculations.
¡°I''ll take it. Now as to the security of the Ghostlands-¡±
¡°I shall end the remaining threats in the Ghostlands. Many of our people who have chosen to follow me seek a purpose. Do not deny them this.¡± Nightsong spoke up, her voice strong, and carrying a hint of challenge in it.
¡°The Light calls for forgiveness and acceptance. Please, fellow council members, and Royal Advisors. Allow them this mercy.¡± Liadran raised her soft voice to be heard over the mutterings of the crowd.
¡°Just so long as they are kept out of Silvermoon and Eversong. The ash-skin may say they are for us, but can we trust that they won''t hunger after our flesh? Or that their master, the Lich King, won''t assert his control over them once more? I do not like this.¡± Thaladred voiced his concerns.
¡°I admit, General Nightsong is an inspiration, but I sort of agree with Thaladred¡¡± Koren ducked his head low, evading Liadran''s frown.
¡°You can trust General Nightsong to do what is best for Quel''Thalas. She has done so before, she will do so again.¡¯ Lor''Themar spoke up in her defense.
Kael had a sour expression on his face, and looked like he was moments away from disagreement.
¡°30,000+ isn''t a small number. They would do well to secure your flank against the Trolls, my King. In fact, they would make for a most excellent decoy. Any Scourge forces that might want to advance from the south would encounter Nightsong first. She could simply tell them that Quel''Thalas is secured, and that there is no need to go any further north.¡± Varrus detailed the usefulness of the friendly Darkfallen in the hopes that Kael wouldn''t blow up on them.
¡°...We welcome and value your support in securing Quel''Thalas. Thank you, General Nightsong.¡± Kael eventually bit out, and managed to keep a neutral expression whilst saying so.
¡°We appreciate the trust you have placed upon us, King Sunstrider.¡± Nightsong replied in kind, her voice just as formal as Kael''s.
Varrus ground his teeth, hating every second of BS politics playing out in front of him.
His mother and best friend were going at it with such passive-agressivism, that he''s wished he could slap both of them, and tell them to get along.
¡°Very good! Then since we''re already discussing the role of the Darkfallen, perhaps we can station them at the Elf Gates, and here in Deatholme until we can research a cure?¡± Varrus suggested to the council.
Nightsong looked like she might disagree, however, she remained silent as everyone else voiced their approval of the plan.
Varrus gave her an apologetic shrug of the shoulders.
Maybe Nightsong wanted to reintegrate the Darkfallen into society. Maybe that would be best for their mental health.
But Varrus was concerned that they might have a blood addiction, just like how normal Highborn had a mana addiction.
For now, he didn''t want to risk the larger population of living Elves, nor did he think the majority would be happy to live next door to some zombies.
The Scourging of Quel''Thalas had just happened, and a small sense of normalcy was returning to the average citizens life. If Varrus suddenly introduced a large influx of Undead into Silvermoon, then that fragile peace might snap.
¡°I am sorry Nightsong, but as you said, once the Darkfallen prove themselves, perhaps the rest of Highborn society might be more willing to accept them. Until we have proven without a shadow of a doubt that they are capable of reintegration, it is for everyone''s best interest that the border with the Humans remains secured.¡± Varrus raised his hands, and spoke soothingly towards his mother.
¡°We will prove ourselves. You can count on that.¡± Nightsong spoke with a firm tone of voice, and projected confidence that belied a strong will.
Looking at her, Varrus believed every word she said. Nightsong truly was a General for the ages.
Varrus unconsciously found himself grinning at his mother. It was hard not to like such a strong woman. She had spunk, and was willing to stand up against the King of a nation.
If only she had been around when he first transmigrated.
Shaking his head, Varrus clapped his hands once more, and moved the meeting along.
¡°On to the last topic. Our plans for invading the south, and eliminating the Scourge presence upon the Eastern Kingdoms. I''ll be the first to say it, with our current numbers, victory almost seems impossible, even with the help of the Sunwell. Even if we did win, we would possibly face catastrophic losses.¡± Varrus seriously intoned as he met everyone in the eye.
¡°Build more golems. They will tear through the weak willed Undead with ease.¡± Thaladred exclaimed.
¡°That is part of the plan, yes. However, there are tens of millions of Humans in Lordaeron alone, not to mention the other Human nations. On top of that, there are generations of dead resting in crypts and graveyards. Telonicus, Pathaleon, how many Undead could we possibly be fighting against?¡± Varrus questioned.
¡°Well, there were roughly 70~ million living Humans in total, as far as my estimates go. 25 in Lordaeron, 18 in Stromgarde, 2 in Alterac, 15 in Gilneas, 9 million in Kul''Tiras, and a few tens of thousands within the city state of Dalaran.¡± Telonicus listed out.
¡°Assuming they have a loss rate similar to ours of about 69%, then the remaining living Humans should number around 21,700,000.
As for Undead, that would be 48,300,000. By taking into account the thousands of years of habitation, and the decay of said corpses, there is a potential for 100-230 million Undead.¡± Pathaleon added on in a grim tone.
The entire table looked on in stunned silence. Necromancy was an incredibly fearsome magic. Amongst those Humans, there was sure to be some Heroes and Elites too. It was an absolute nightmare going up against such a daunting foe.
¡°Surely you jest.¡± Magister Governor Allatrocx licked his lips, and nervously tugged at the collar on his robe.
¡°He speaks the truth.¡± Telonicus supplied. ¡°However, that is only half of the equation. It is true that this is what the Scourge is capable of, but they do not possess unlimited mana.¡± Telonicus added on.
Relief flooded the meeting room, and everyone breathed a sigh of relief at the good news.
¡°That is not to say that they are toothless. Death magic is self feeding. The more Undead that gather, the more ambient energy the necromancers have to draw upon. Like a snowball rolling down a hill to form an avalanche, the Scourge is growing rapidly. They should already have 8-10 million at the least, with a number growing by 10,000+ every day.¡± Telonicus busily explained whilst he scratched out some numbers and continued to calculate.
Varrus nodded along. If they were to win, they needed to out tech the enemy, and put more boots on the ground. The golems were a good start, but he had been inspired by Telonicus''s invention during the battle for Deatholme.
¡°So what we need are new weapons of war, and allies to match. While we hide and wait to restore the Sunwell, we need to make more floating platforms to house our mages, airforce, and canons.¡± Varrus glanced at Telonicus and Tae''thelon.
¡°I have just finished setting up the portals across Quel''Thalas¡I suppose it can be done.¡± Tae''thelon spoke in an irked tone of voice.
¡°Supply the Mana Stones, and I will build what is required.¡± Telonicus curtly replied.
¡°Good, good. I have Helios supplying the Human resistance under Garithos at the moment, and have been sending weapons, food, and clothing to other holdouts. Lastly, there is a civil war taking place in the nation of Gilneas. I intend to lead House Vandercross inside, and install a new leader. One loyal to Quel''Thalas.¡± Varrus grinned at the other members of the Convocation.
¡°A serious undertaking, indeed. But the First Seat has a proven track record for negotiation given the Kobolds. I agree, we need allies if we are to destroy the Scourge. All in favor?¡± Lor''Themar queried the rest of the table.
A resounding number of ¡°ayes¡± rang out.
Varrus nodded in appreciation at Lor''Themar.
¡°Meeting adjourned. May we bring victory and peace to the Eastern Kingdoms.¡± Varrus raised his drink in salute.
¡°To victory and peace!¡±
106
Two more weeks had passed since the victory at Deatholme, and it had been about 5-6 months since the Scourging of Silvermoon. At this time, Varrus was busy going over a mental checklist from within his office before he set out for Gilneas.
As for why he chose Gilneas as the next member state for the Convocation? There were several factors.
To begin with, while theoretically, Varrus could turtle up, and wait for the events of WC3 to play out as usual, then emerge from Quel''Thalas 1-3 years later for the start of Vanilla WoW, that would limit his plans for creating the Covenant.
With the races of man at their most desperate during this onset of a Scourge induced zombie apocalypse, Varrus could cement the Highborn as a beacon of civilization, and as the only legitimate hope for survival.
By seizing the initiative, Varrus would force others to react to him and his people, and he would no longer be caught on the back foot.
Based upon that line of thought, Varrus continued his search for allies, and he had settled on Gilneas.
For the time being, the nation of Gilneas made the most sense to Varrus because it was the easy to reach by sea, and was largely free from the Undead.
This freedom was because, geographically speaking, Gilneas was a peninsula jutting out from the western edge of the Eastern Kingdoms. Like Spain on Earth, it was isolated from the mainland by a ¡®narrow¡¯ strip of land. Making the country more easily defensible than most.
Additionally, that gap between Gilneas and Lordaeron had been covered up by a massive wall sometime during the 2nd Orc War.
Meaning that the majority of Gilneas''s population had remained intact, and free of any taint.
This very same wall became a major source of contention. Ultimately, it became the focal point leading up to the Northgate Rebellion.
That was because the wall separated one of the major fiefdoms of Gilneas from the rest of the country. Ordinarily, this would not be a big deal in times of peace, but then the Scourge attacked.
The leader of Gilneas, King Genn Greymane, feared the plague, and refused entry to any within his walls. Even his own people trapped on the other side.
Witnessing the horrors committed by the Scourge against his subjects, the leader of these lands, Lord Darius Crowley was incredibly irate, and had launched the Northgate Rebellion.
As the country descended into internal strife, Varrus saw this as an opportunity to bring Gilneas into the fold.
His opinion on the two principle leaders, however, was not positive, and he did not intend to fully back either of them to rule the nation.
Greymane was the very definition of a curmudgeon. When the Dark Portal first opened over a dozen years ago, and the Orc Horde razed Stormwind and genocided the Humans living there, the northern nations of the Eastern Kingdoms formed the Alliance for the first time.
Unlike what is presented in WoW, the Alliance was a loose organization made up of egotistical monarchs all vying for political capital. However, despite the despicable political shenanigans taking shape, it was a necessary organization. Otherwise, the Orcs would win, and every last Human would be wiped off the map.
Greymane hated that he couldn''t be the leader, and caused as much political turmoil as anyone else. Eventually he became an isolationist similar to the likes of North Korea, or ancient Japan.
When the Alliance looked as if it could bind the nations of man together, and end the pointless wars between them, Greymane withdrew Gilneas.
In short, Greymane was not the ally Varrus wanted leading what in his eyes, was a soon to be client state.
Naturally, one might assume Crowley to be Varrus''s pick, but Varrus had some misgivings regarding the rebellious Lord.
The number one concern he had with Crowley, is that he turned against his Liege Lord in the first place.
Whilst it was in the name of preserving his people-an admirable trait-could Varrus trust that he wouldn''t do the same again if Crowley thought the safety of his people were at risk?
Even if it was ¡®for a good cause,¡¯ could Varrus ever be comfortable trusting such a charismatic traitor?
Rapping his knuckles on the table, Varrus felt like he understood Kael''s concerns over Nightsong when he thought about it like that.
But the point was, Crowley was a revolutionary, one whom Varrus might have swayed to join a version of the Alliance, but that wasn''t what Varrus wanted. He wanted a dependent state that wouldn''t just leave at the slightest of disagreements. He wanted a mageotech empire dominated by the Highborn, dominated by the Covenant!
Which is why Varrus planned on playing both sides against one another, and to conduct a sinister campaign of sabotage alongside his wife. The idea was to greatly escalate the war, and create as much chaos as possible. Then, when all hope seemed lost, he would swoop in and join the ¡®winning side¡¯ with the full might of House Vandercross behind him, and install the leader of his choice.
He had been practicing the Polymorph spell quite a bit these last two weeks, and could transform himself into a Human among a few other forms.
This campaign to subvert Gilneas''s loyalties was risky, but worth it from Varrus''s POV.
As a nation bereft of Undead, and a natural buffer state, they would serve as the perfect thorn in the Scourge''s side. By launching guerilla attacks via boat, they could chip away at the Scourge, then retreat behind their wall.
Whilst the Dreadlords directed their ire towards the Gilneans, the rest of Quel''Thalas could perform a flanking maneuver from the north, and catch them completely off guard.
Perhaps during that interim, the surviving mages of Dalaran could also be brought into the fold, but Varrus doubted that. They were a proud lot, and unlike the vast population of illiterate peasants, were well educated, and were wise to Elven machinations.
But that didn''t mean the city-state of Dalaran should be completely removed as an option for conquest. They too were in some incredibly dire straits after Arthas murdered their leader. This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.
Varrus shook his head, and tabled the idea for another time. He was taking care of many things domestically, had sent Helios out with supplies to reinforce the Human resistance in Lordaeron, and he was currently focused on Gilneas. Dalaran could wait for another day.
As for the upcoming subterfuge, Varrus had taken inspiration from the evil Dragon, Deathwing, and found himself a disguise of a lesser known noble house. His intent was to masquerade amongst the Humans, and sew discord.
As a powerful smith, he would prove himself indispensable to both sides by providing arms and armor.
Varrus grinned as he finished up his plans for Gilneas. He was only a few days off from setting out, and had accomplished much in the last two weeks.
During this time, he had cast an innumerable amount of bricks, and had reconstructed about 90% of Silvermoon. Due to time constraints he left the fringes and less-walked places in some disrepair.
Otherwise, the city was once more a shining utopia. Banners draped in red fell from balconies, red carpets cleaned by an army of enchanted brooms lined the streets. People conducted commerce, and Varrus even saw a few of them smile when he went out!
Varrus had been hard at work to help Silvermoon become the crown of a multicultural empire. The portals connecting to the Longcandle tribe were already in use, and a few hundred applicants had become students to learn the Elven ways of Light magic.
Alongside these new converts were first time merchants and other workers dropping off raw materials. The Elves very obviously disdained the Kobolds, but none ever spoke Common in their presence or bothered to engage with the rat-kin if they did not have to.
And if they did speak to the Kobolds, the Elves spoke so eloquently, that it went right over their tiny little heads. To Varrus, it was especially amusing to witness one of the Highborn make a joke at a Kobold''s expense, thinking they had roasted the creature, only to realize a moment later that the funny ratman was standing still, and scratching his head in confusion.
It didn''t take long for most Highborn to get the memo that Kobolds were much less easily riled up than Humans. In fact, it had become a bit of a fad for some Highborn to dress up the newest arrivals to Silvermoon.
It was kind of messed up from Varrus''s POV that they were treating the Kobolds like the dogs of Earth, but at the same time, a Mobold dressed in a tuxedo wearing a top hat looked rather dapper. Such interactions had smoothed out the initial biases, and whilst there was definitely some heavy disdain coming from the Elves, the Kobolds didn''t notice it.
And so, the Kobolds had cemented themselves in Highborn society as a sort of ¡®cute¡¯ like a hamster, almost-a-pet group of people.
Despite this acceptance, all foreign races had been limited to Sunstrider Square, and the Grand Bazaar by the King''s decree. Unless, of course they had someone to escort them, or were there under special permission to travel to other districts, like the priests and paladins in training.
The first time Varrus had seen the Kobolds, they were wide eyed and a little insane when they saw the ¡®great candle in the sky¡¯ for the first time.
Several of the buggers had to be healed as they almost went blind gazing into the sun.
Varrus had also linked up with Karwl, and sent him off to school to learn the skills of the paladin.
The little guy was adorable in his oaths of loyalty, and while such qualities were admirable, Varrus didn''t want to take his newest follower around on death defying adventures until he had figuratively leveled up a bit.
Who knew, perhaps one day Karwl would lead Varrus to an adamantium vein, or help Him escape some mine.
Just because his companions weren''t as strong as him, didn''t mean they were useless. But ideally, he would want his followers to at least have the skills of an Elite. After all, how tragic would it be to drag Karwl along, only to have him die from something as simple as a stray arrow?
Besides overseeing the induction of the Kobolds, and strengthening his hold over the Polymorph spell, Varrus had kept up with his usual grinding, love making, and Mana Crystal study.
He had made some progress in the study of Mana Crystals, but his leveling had slowed down considerably. Manually raising his stats was becoming more and more difficult. However, he wasn''t worried, as he had time on his side.
Between advancing his Family Magic, and grinding levels, it would only be a matter of time before he surpassed the gap between being a Hero and attaining the skills of a Dem-God.
Blowing his long blonde hair out from his face, Varrus rubbed his tired eyes, and made his way to the gardens, where he knew Syra would be.
Along the way, he passed by the various workshops he had set up when he first took control of House Vandercross.
The fires of industry were hard at work as the craftsmen repaired damaged gear, retuned wands, mixed potions, and accomplished a dozen other minor tasks that kept the Elven war machine going.
In one particular hall, the Undead priest, and former Convocation member, Dawnbringer was jovially instructing a group of students.
Their faith lit up the room with a golden glow, protected the practitioners in shields of Light, and enhanced their physical capabilities.
The portly priest nodded with a smile at Varrus, then continued with his instruction.
Varrus returned the nod, and was happy to see them hard at work.
Pausing at a railing on the 2nd floor, Varrus looked down into the square, and saw Rho''dan, along with a few dozen other Arcane Warriors practice Blinking from one end of the square to the other.
The warriors then tried to do as many short ranged teleports as possible. It seemed that they were figuring out their limits, and trying to increase their mana pool through constant use.
Catching the stalwart guards eye, Varrus nodded in appreciation.
House Vandercross was small when compared to the tens of thousands that made up Kael''s Sunfury.
However, what they lacked in numbers, they made up for with the number of Elites.
Everyone wore enchanted equipment, and it had all been master forged by Varrus. Not only that, but when it came to the Light, or Arcane Warrior training, they had the best instructors.
Varrus smiled to himself, each step carrying a spring to it as he made his way out the back and into the garden.
Where House Vandercross was perhaps lacking in Arcane studies; it did have certain advantages in other fields.
Already, Valanar had taken in several acolytes. The farmers of Quel''Thalas already knew some basics, and had proven to be prime candidates for this long forgotten arte.
But that wasn''t all.
Turning a corner, and entering a cave, Varrus watched from the back of a gathering as Syra demonstrated the finer intricacies of the Void.
Purple light shifted mesmerizingly along the cave wall as she held an orb of pure Void in her hand.
Varrus took note, making sure that every member within was wearing their Void resistant amulets.
After disenchanting Zul¡¯Jin''s Void powered weapon, Varrus gained the ability to add resistance to gear. For these nascent practitioners, he had mandated that they wear these amulets at all times. Additionally, he had added on the Spirit stat to the enchantments, boosting the willpower of all those who wore them.
Void corruption was no joke, and was something Varrus almost didn''t want to risk. But Syra had already been teaching the Illidari, and her own faction within the family, the Vanderguard.
She had been excited to do something that benefitted the House, and Varrus found he couldn''t say no.
Besides, watching her seriously demonstrate how to wield the Void gave her some serious sexy teacher vibes.
¡°And so, much like the Light, the Void can be used to empower oneself, but the risk of mutation is always a risk. That mutation, however, can be used on objects, plants, or animals and bend them to our will.¡± Syra explained to the students.
She then infused a cup with the purple energy. A moment later, the inanimate object exploded with a bang.
Syra contained all of the shard within a bubble of Light, then let them drop.
¡°Cursed objects, such as this can be used as mines, poisons, or for assassinations among other things. Whilst Arcane can accomplish the same feats, Void does so faster, and requires much less study. However, the dangers are magnified 100 times over.¡± Syra then dropped the barrier containing the shards, and gestured towards some purple goo seeping out of the broken cup, and eating away at the dirt floor of the cave at an accelerated rate.
Clapping her hands, Syra answered a few more questions, then dismissed the crowd.
After everyone had shuffled out, Varrus walked up to Syra for a hug and a kiss.
¡°You did amazing.¡± Varrus complimented.
¡°Mnm. I wish I could do this without talking so much.¡± Syra rubbed her face onto Varrus''s chest, and took him in an embrace.
¡°Maybe you won''t have to. I mean, if my plays could be recorded, why can''t your teachings?¡± Varrus ruffled her hair, and suggested.
¡°Varrus. Why didn''t you tell me this earlier!¡± Syra gripped his collar tightly, and all but growled up at him.
Varrus grinned at her cute behavior, and bopped her on the nose.
¡°Because, silly, I was busy. We''re going to Gilneas tomorrow after all.¡±
¡°That was tomorrow?!¡± Syra muttered, and raised like a deer caught in the headlights.
¡°Yes?¡± Varrus grinned in bemusement.
¡°I still have to finish packing my tools! You distracted me.¡± Syra said accusingly.
¡°Well I seem to recall an invisible hand speaking into my office during a meeting with my middle managers~¡± Varrus playfully responded.
¡°Details! Ack, Varrus!¡± Syra shoved Varrus away, then ran back to the mansion in a hurry.
Varrus chuckled at her as she left. His girl always had a million things on her mind, and packing was not one of them.
¡°Pfft-hahahaha!¡± Varrus chuckled to himself.
¡°And no laughing!¡± Syra called from a distance.
Varrus only laughed louder in response.
He then shook his head, and here he thought he was going to get a good break from the grind.
Sighing to himself, he decided to make more Mana Stones and raise that exp bar just a sliver higher.
Because all breaks were temporary, and the grind never stopped.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
40% Christmas sale at: patr eon.com/KarpQQ
Read 25 chapters ahead~
Chapter 107
Walking through the fortified city of Sunsail Anchorage-a portal town off the west coast-Varrus, Syra, and a contingent of House Vandercross made their way to the harbor where their ship awaited them.
His trip to the docks was surreal. Every other town or city in Quel''Thalas had faced the fires of war, but this seaside port town had remained unscathed.
Buildings were in pristine shape, and there were zero signs of damage. Varrus had grown so accustomed to death and debris lining the streets, that the idyllic life of immortal peace had seemed like an alien concept to him.
Yet Sunsail Anchorage was like a scenic picture freezing the grand lifestyle of Highborn culture in a time capsule.
The people here seemed much more cheerful, and a partying atmosphere spread through the streets. Music loudly blared from opera houses, inns were lively, and Highborn busily showed off their magic to one another.
It felt like he was a tourist that had gone back in time, and visited ancient Rome, Egypt, or any other great civilization of the past. Magnificent structures floated in the sky, massive statues of Heroes and artists lined the streets. Laughter carried on the air, and the cool sea breeze ran through his hair.
In short, Sunsail Anchorage felt like the most beautiful seaside resort town Varrus had ever experienced.
They were in stark contrast to the survivors of Silvermoon. Where the victims of the Scourge were well aware of the Undead threat, and had put their all into working together for the good of society, these people were partying as if they didn''t have a care in the world!
At first it was a magical feeling, but the contrast between this place and the rest of the kingdom didn''t sit right with Varrus. While everyone else was suffering, and doing their best just to survive, the residents here continued as if nothing bad would happen. As if thousands of their compatriots weren''t off risking their lives to ¡®hold the roof up¡¯ so the world didn''t come collapsing down on top of their pretty blonde heads!
¡°Disgusting.¡± Varrus spat into a nearby gutter as he watched a musician captivate an audience with his violin.
Over a thousand people clogged the streets, and thousands more sat in an open air amphitheater, captivated by this musician. Yet the procession of warriors and mages from House Vandercross barely registered a side eyed glance.
In fact, several Elves sneered at them for making too much noise, and interrupting the performance!
¡°Agreed. You are not even 100 years of age, yet you work for these people while they play games ignoring reality. You are a true Hero, Highlord.¡± Rho''dan commented from the side, and shook his head in derision at the partygoers.
¡°We should give them something to fear. Disrespecting our sacrifice is a huge slap to House Vandercross''s face. But more importantly, their disrespect of your achievements is simply unforgivable.¡± Syra muttered with a hint of blood lust, her hand rested on her sword''s handle, yet she looked to Varrus with an eager look of anticipation on her face.
She wanted violence!
Varrus quirked an eyebrow. He didn''t want to disturb the peace, but seeing the locals partying and relaxing whilst the rest of the nation was actively fighting a war put a sour taste in his mouth.
Just last night, he had awakened in a cold sweat after dreaming about a dead little girl he had dug out of a rubble heap when he first transmigrated. Her face frozen in a scream of terror¡ it really put things into perspective, and reaffirmed that even if his actions might be deemed questionable to some, he was doing the right thing.
Taking a shaky deep breath, Varrus felt Syra''s hand grip his tightly. Turning to his lovely wife Varrus weakly smiled, and patted her on the shoulder.
¡°A bold idea my love. If they wish to be entertained, then we shall put on a performance for them that they''ll never forget!¡± Varrus said coldly. Pursed his lips, he marched towards the stage where the violinist was performing.
¡°Hey, you can''t interrupt maestro Lightswallow, he''s the most famous musician in the entire Anchorage-¡± One Elf stood in their way, only to be shoved to the ground by Rho''dan like he was as insignificant as a beach ball.
A few other attendees tried to stop them, but the 100+ men/women Varrus had marching behind him formed a spear shaped formation, and moved anyone who got in their way.
The music stopped, and the crowd parted, allowing Varrus easy access to the amphitheater¡¯s stage.
The violinist took one look at Varrus, his face red with fury.
¡°Do you know who you have just interrup¡ted.¡± The maestro began, only for him to quiver, and go pale as he seemed to recognize Varrus.
¡°Get off the stage!¡± Someone in the crowd shouted.
¡°Leave the stage child, we want to hear the maestro, not watch an overly flowery play lacking in substance!¡± Another catcalled.
The audience members jeered, and erupted with laughter whilst Varrus stood on the stage, and House Vandercross acted as a wall to push them back.
¡°L-Last D-d-dance!¡± The blonde, pretty boy maestro shouted in fear. His magically enhanced voice spread through the crowd, resulting in a swift and nervous silence to permeate the air.
The Highborn that had been laughing and mocking a second ago had all fallen silent.
Varrus bathed in the silence like a plant absorbing the sun.
The uncertainty, and subtle hint of fear wafting towards him was like the most intoxicating of ambrosia.
It was glorious.
Varrus had realized long ago that his father, old man Vandercross may be incredibly unpopular, but the people listened when he spoke. Stolen story; please report.
If being a villain in the public eye meant being respected, then Varrus would wear that label with pride. The more he thought about it, the more convinced he was that the political strife between his father and the previous King was manufactured.
Varrus was okay with that. Kael could be the face of fairness, the beloved celebrity. While he was the boogeyman that enforced a spine within the populace.
To the citizens of Quel''Thalas, he was once nothing more than a notorious playboy. Silvermoon and the other survivors had long been disillusioned from this notion.
However, to the sheltered residents of Sunsail Anchorage, so divorced from reality, Varrus''s ascension to the First Seat must seem like a joke of the highest order. It was like seeing a 10 year old become the Prime Minister.
But then that same child was recorded murdering high level socialites at a famous party eligible to only the most talented and connected members of society, and there were no consequences.
Well then, some jokes had to be taken seriously!
Projecting the weight of his mana, and the effects of Imposing Presence outward, Varrus commanded the attention of every eyeball in the open air theater.
Thousands of merry goers were silenced by Varrus''s mere presence.
¡°Some of you seem to think the war is over. Perhaps you''ve read the news reports, and come to the conclusion that with Tha''salah secured, and the traitor Queen slain, that there is peace. Well you''d be dead wrong.¡± Varrus addressed the crowd, and began to pace the stage, his voice rose in volume after every syllable, every step of his echoing to his march.
¡°As we speak, your King is handling the remnant Amani. Your Convocation is rearming, and training themselves for the conflict to come. I am due to leave for foreign lands and gather allies. The Scourge remains undefeated, and is growing in number every day. Yet here you all are, enjoying the sun and dancing to the music!¡± Varrus gestured angrily at the musician, and shouted his disdain.
¡°I supply a hundred Mana Stones to this city every single day. It is by my grace that you still draw breath. It is by the sacrifice of the men and women fighting on the front lines that you can smile so freely. I do not wish everyone to be a combatant, nor do I command you respect me. But you will respect the soldiers who fight and die for your freedoms.¡± Varrus paused in his pacing, and held his arms wide, gesturing to the rest of House Vandercross.
¡°Loom at them. Look at these survivors! The day the Scourge attacked, each and every one of them took up arms, and resisted. They answered the call so you didn''t have to! They saw their families eaten before their very eyes so that we can all go back to a life of peace. But that time has not yet come! There is work to be done. Ships to be built, trade to be conducted, fish, food and a million other supplies necessary for the survival of this nation!¡± Varrus heavily breathed as he looked several members of the audience in the eye, yet each and every one of them ducked their heads.
¡°What you need is motivation. I can see that peace has made you soft. Remember this feeling, and hold it close to your heart when you think of slacking in your duties to this nation. Because the men and women on the front lines feel it every second of every day.¡± Varrus solemnly ended his speech by raising his hands high, and unleashing a spell.
Crimson lights left Varrus''s hands, and a fog of red spread amongst the crowd.
The fear inducing spell, Hysteria spread through the audience like a plague.
People screamed, ran into one another, and panicked like a group of chickens knowing the fox had come.
Syra clapped gleefully at their misfortune, and even Rho''dan could be seen sporting a small grin.
¡°Death would have been too good for them, but this is a performance for the ages. These base creatures will remember this for the rest of their paltry lives.¡± Syra covered her mouth, and laughed at their misfortune.
Varrus glanced at Syra, and shrugged his shoulders. He didn''t want to kill anyone, but these people needed to be taught a lesson. They were all one country, one nation that must share both weal and woe.
¡°A drastic option to be sure, but the Convocation is not to be disrespected. I shall endeavor to spread word of this throughout the kingdom. Your father would be proud.¡± Rho''dan shallowly nodded at Varrus, yet kept his eye on the crowd, ever observant for any sudden attacks or assassination attempts.
Varrus nodded. He had once disdained everything his father had stood for. But the more he interacted with the world, the more he understood that he acted the way he did for a reason.
The Highborn were an advanced race, highly intelligent, highly educated, and possessed technology akin to the best of Western civilization. In some cases, such as teleportation, they even surpassed Earth technology. To wrangle immortals with access to all these amenities, strength and a firm hand were much more effective tools to govern the populace than something like democracy.
After all, a person was smart, but the people were stupid. The fact that these residents were partying so hard when the rest of the nation fought for their lives was evidence of that.
¡°It had to be done. We can ill afford any more detractors from within. We just overcame our country''s largest betrayal and civil war. I will not tolerate any further bungling or malcontents to destroy this tenuous victory.¡± Varrus spoke with an edge to his voice as he watched the audience members continue to freak out at one another in a state of unmitigated fear.
He took no pleasure in their mental agony, but he recognized this as a necessary evil to motivate the people. If these immortals would not recognize the grace and understanding Varrus had previously granted them with free Mana Stones, then he would have to show them that there was a cost to be laid for slacking during a national emergency.
Varrus let this spectacle go on for 5 minutes, and then he canceled out the fear with the calm spell: Harmony.
The running and screaming Elves all stopped their random acts of panic, and looked to Varrus with a mixed cocktail of expressions.
Some had anger or resentment, yet the majority were instilled with a healthy dose of fear and obedience.
Smiling at the crowd, Varrus raised his voice one last time.
¡°Our nation is teetering on the brink of annihilation. What you experienced is but a taste of the horror Silvermoon experienced that fateful day 6 months ago. Now begone! Take the memory of this day, and never let go! Each day you wish to party whilst our soldiers are on campaign, remember that I, Varrus Vandercross, First Seat of the Convocation of Silvermoon am always watching.¡± Varrus boomed, and dismissed the crowd.
As the attendees filed out, Varrus saw the maestro try to slink away. Nodding at Rho''dan, his guard got the memo, and gripped the musician by the shoulder.
Tossing him at Varrus''s feet, Rho''dan stood back with his arms crossed.
Varrus paused, and smiled at the trembling man.
¡°Relax, I''m not going to hurt you. I have a few simple questions for you. Do you know any Human music? Any sea shanties perhaps?¡±
Glancing left and right, the musician remained silent, and hung his head low.
¡°Answer him.¡± Syra drew her blade, and rested it on his shoulder.
¡°Yes! Yes, I know them!¡± The musician cried out.
¡°Congratulations. You''ve been shanghaied. Welcome aboard!¡± Varrus forcefully helped the violinist took his feet, then shoved him towards his guards.
¡°Waitz wait, you can''t do this, my fans!¡±
Varrus merely glanced back at him, and the musicians suddenly shut up.
¡°Hm. Come Syra, we have a voyage to take.¡± Varrus held out his arm.
¡°I''ve never been on a cruise before!¡± Syra skipped up to Varrus''s side, and took his arm.
¡°Surely you sailed on some boats when fighting during the Orc War?¡±
¡°But never on a cruise with my beloved!~¡± Syra cheered, and snuggled close to Varrus.
¡°Well¡I haven''t been on a cruise then either. Rho''dan, grab our new friend-Lightswallow, was it?-and make sure our vessel is stocked with the finest foods, wines and other beverages that Sunsail Anchorage has to offer! All on his tab of course!¡± Varrus gestured towards the musician, then walked away.
¡°This cannot be happening.¡± Lightswallow groaned in despair.
¡°You heard the Highlord. Come along now, we don''t want to leave Lady Vandercross waiting, otherwise you might be short a pair.¡± Rho''dan muttered, and pushed the musician forwards.
¡°But my brother is the governor, First Seat or not, he can''t just do this!¡± Lightswallow stomped the ground in indignation, and crossed his arms like a pouty teenager.
Rho''dan paused in his steps, and backhanded the musician to the cobblestone floor.
Blood and a tooth sprayed out of the musician''s mouth as he fell.
Squatting down beside the maestro, Rho''dan gripped his hair, and lifted his head.
¡°The Highlord can do anything he wants. We live in a state of martial law. If the governor raises any complaints, he can be replaced.¡± Rho''dan whispered.
The musician shuddered as he was hauled to his feet, and force fed a healing potion.
He glared hatefully at Rho''dan when the guard looked away, but was quick to look docile when Rho''dan looked back.
¡°I like that look of revenge you have going on. I like schemers, especially when they spill their secrets in the dungeon.¡± Rho''dan threatened, and snapped the maestro''s finger like it was nothing.
¡°Mnnmm!¡± The maestro tried to shout, only to have his mouth covered by one bear law sized, gauntleted hand.
¡°This is how it''s going to go. You will direct us to the best establishments, and you will pay for the food. Any discreet notes, nods, or wordplay will result in a broken bone. Nod if you understand.¡±
Upon witnessing Lightswallow nod, Rho''dan removed his hand.
¡°Aren''t you going to give me another sip of the potion?¡± The musician cradled his hand, and said whilst he winced in pain.
¡°Welcome to House Vandercross, we appreciate your donation, and resolve to aid this nation in its most dire hour of need!¡± Rho''dan patted Lightswallow on the back, and pressed him forward.
¡°I¡¯m doooomed!¡± Lightswallow bemoaned his fate as he was forced into the nearest upscale restaurant.
Chapter 108
After securing some supplies and luxury goods, Varrus had set sail towards Gilneas.
In preparation for his infiltration, Varrus had assumed the identity of a minor noble House.
Sometime in the last few hundred years apparently, old man Vandercross had instructed his retainers to father children in all the major Human kingdoms. From what the Crossguard told him, these families were used as connections for information, trade, and influence.
As a result, a whole host of Van-style noble Houses came into existence, such as the: Vanshields, Vanbuilts, etc.
This naming scheme and low-key infiltration took place over the course of centuries.
Arranged marriages were held between the various cadet families, and after a few generations, the children of said families were almost indistinguishable from Humans in appearance. Although they had a stigma amongst both peoples, these families were some of the few allowed trade with Quel''Thalas.
Elves did not share their trinkets or luxury goods lightly, and the old man had finangled a way for the Highborn to discreetly ¡®dispose¡¯ of their half-blooded children into these minor Houses, bolstering their ranks. This action served the dual purpose of furthering his influence in Human lands whilst also being owed a favor from the prissy, horny immortals.
This long term strategy benefited Varrus, because it just so happened that the leader of the Gilnean branch, a Vanhook, was visiting Quel''Thalas for trade during the Scourge invasion, and had perished during the conflict.
Seizing his vessel, Varrus was pretending to be the cousin and heir to the Vanhook family.
He had set out with Syra, Rho''dan, Valanar, a complement of 100+ House Vandercross Elites, and one shanghaied musician.
Keeping the druid, Valanar under house arrest, Varrus had seen that the whimsical Prince was likely not a player in the game, and by bringing him along, he could be sure that he wouldn''t be fucking things up in Silvermoon while Varrus was absent. But mostly, he brought Valanar along because of the Worgen issue.
What was the Worgen issue, one might ask?
During the outset of the Scourge invasion of the Eastern Kingdoms, Gilneas was set to be overrun. To save his country, King Greymane turned to a wizard for a solution. The wizard summoned a beast from another plane, a Worgen-basically a werewolf-to battle the Undead.
It worked in driving the zombies off, but the creature had also infected dozens of native Gilneans. This magical curse was uncontrollable for those infected, and had them turn upon their fellow man, and mindlessly slaughter any who got into their paths. Even their own families.
So whilst the civil war was at the forefront, this Worgen curse was lurking in the background.
In the original timeline, the Night Elves had felt responsible for the Worgen outbreak, and had taught the Gilneans how to control this transformation.
Varrus brought Valanar along primarily for this purpose.
Generic Worgen:
He had many levers and other soft power means to take Gilneas into the fold, but gaining control of this curse would be another tool in his toolbox. Plus, this werewolf-like transformation qualitatively boosted Gilneas, and transformed them from a minor power into a solid state worthy of respect. No matter the universe, werewolves were a step above Humans on the food chain, and could even the playing field against many an opponent.
When Humans couldn''t beat monsters through faith or technology, they made monsters of their own in response.
But Valanar was one component among many that complicated Varrus''s plan.
House Vandercross, and the image of a savvy merchant were also crucial to completing his objective.
The Elven force accompanying him had all been equipped with trinkets that altered appearance. To any casual observer, the men and women aboard the ship looked no different from your everyday, ordinary Human.
To help with his disguise, Varrus had stowed a few comically large chests in the hold. Within said storage, were tons of masterworked iron arms and armor.
The supply of iron from the Kobolds had been plentiful since he signed them up with the Covenant over a month ago, and had allowed Varrus to craft a large amount of gifts meant to gain the support of Gilneas''s two warring factions.
There were also a few fine silks, rare spices, and other high end luxury goods that were meant to appeal to the nobles amongst the goods he had taken with him. Because if World of Warcraft was anything, it was incredibly stereotypical, and the nobility were no exception to this rule. Based upon that logic, Varrus could conclude that a generic noble would much rather have a fine dress for his wife than 10 loaves of bread for his subjects. In effect, every gift Varrus sent out would be free advertising. If he could make this Vanhook persona popular and we''ll regarded, he could be in a position to effect real change in Gilneas without ever having to lift a sword or cast a spell in anger.
However, just because he was peddling influence with the upper crust, that didn''t mean Varrus would skimp out on food for the commoners. While the nobles may occasionally produce Hero tiers within their ranks, and were Elite tier on average, that didn''t mean Varrus would ignore the peasants or working class. Among this group were future taxpayers, adventurers, and citizens of the Covenant. If he could add them to his coalition, then perhaps once he began setting up the Adventurers Guild and other institutions, they could become his most ardent supporters. Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.
During times of war, the lower class would be the ones affected the most. Feeding them was as important to advancing his goals as was arming the warring factions in Gilneas.
Thanks to his foresight to recruit farmers at the onset of the Scourge invasion, and Eversong''s cleansing of tainted land, Quel''Thalas was experiencing a surplus so grand, they had to store food in magic bags so that it wouldn''t rot by the roadside.
While he didn''t consider himself altruistic, that didn''t mean he wanted to see the average guy on the street suffer. It was one thing to profit from a civil war against generic nobles who kept literacy rates low on purpose, and a completely other mess to deliberately withhold food from starving peasants when his own supply of grain exceeded demand.
There were millions of people in Gilneas. Why would Varrus try to achieve a military victory with some sort of Elven invasion, when he could secure their loyalty through trade, and act as the lynch pin moderating force holding the two political factions together? He had a plan to replace the leadership with people sympathetic to Quel''Thalas, and to feed the masses. With such a strategy, no matter who won the civil war, Varrus would come out on top.
Essentially, his goal was to be like Palpatine in Star Wars, and play both sides. He just had to find himself an Anakin Skywalker to corrupt and champion his cause.
And so, not only had Varrus brought with him weapons of war, but he had also taken copious amounts of magically grown fruit, and grain for this trip.
These gifts served his goal to reach out, and influence the course of a nation. But he had to get their first.
The trip across the sea had been mostly calm, and they had only received a few showers up until this point.
Thankfully, Rho''dan and a few other members of his House had learnt how to sail over the course of their long lives, and so Varrus had appointed the red-headed stalwart guard to Captain the Gilnean vessel. Under his stewardship, their journey was nothing but smooth sailing.
The ship they rode upon, the Golden Loom was a galleon, and looked like the ships used in the Pirates of the Caribbean movies.
Equipped with dozens of heavy cannons and many more light guns, and possessing large white sails, they made good time.
The distance from Quel''Thalas to Gilneas by sea was roughly the same as from England to the Strait of Gibraltar, south of Spain.
Two days had passed since their departure from Sunsail Anchorage, and they should be arriving at their destination, Kael Harbor, sometime in the next few hours.
As one of the primary bases of operations for the Northgate Rebels, the walled city was Varrus''s first stop before he headed for the capitol, Gilnean City.
At the moment, Varrus was calmly looking out to sea, and Syra was resting her head in his lap, sun bathing.
Stroking her soft blonde hair, and feeling the gentle breeze for the last two days was a relaxing experience that had taken his mind off of work.
As someone who had probably spent the majority of his life inside of a building-his house, school, and an office-he liked to get out every now and again and just breath in the air, look at the clouds, some trees, or admire a mountain.
He had only been on the open ocean twice in his life back on Earth, so it was a somewhat novel experience for him this time around.
Their musician was singing a bawdy sailors song, much to his crews ire, but Varrus was enjoying every second of it.
Sailing upon a galleon made him feel like a pirate, or conquistador of old. While he respected, and somewhat feared the awesome power of the ocean, and was weary of what lurked below, he was confident in his abilities.
The Ship:
Even if they met a hurricane, Varrus could fire back with his own wind spell, Twister, or freeze the sea should a giant wave come crashing down.
So while he had a healthy dose of respect for mother nature, and wasn''t aiming to win a Darwin Award anytime soon, that did not mean he was quivering in his boots.
Syra glanced up at Varrus from her position on his lap, and stared at him lovingly. Her expression suddenly morphed, and she jumped to her feet, blade in hand.
Trusting her instincts, Varrus also jumped up, and scanned his surroundings.
He couldn''t see much, but the direction they were headed in was covered in a thick blanket of fog.
¡°All hands on deck, we have company!¡± Rho''dan¡¯s deep voice rang across the galley.
Varrus heard it before he saw it.
The sound of muskets cracking, and deep bass explosions of cannon shells carried over the wind. Men shouting, and the groan of lumber bursting apart assaulted his keen Elf ears.
Sailing forth into the fog, Varrus beheld a sight of anarchy as a three way battle seemed to be underway.
Two ships were bombarding one another in a broadside barrage, meanwhile, a teal skinned Sea Giant was hurling large rocks at the dueling vessels.
Sea Giant:
On one of the ships, Varrus spotted the Gilnean flag flapping on the wind. The commander of the galleon must be a Hero, because she wielded an enchanted blade, and moved with a speed and precision that not even an Elven Elite could match.
With her sword, she cleaved apart an incoming cannonball, and with her pistol, she shot a magic bullet back at the other ship, sniping an enemy¡¯s head clean off.
Several shouts and cheers followed after her remarkable action.
¡°Lady Crowley!¡±
¡°Northgate!¡±
Varrus narrowed his eyes. He had almost forgotten that the leader of the rebel faction, Darius Crowley, had a daughter. Perhaps she could fill a position of leadership in his new Empire?
¡®Or even fulfill the role of ¡®Anakin Skywalker?¡¯ Varrus mused to himself.
His thoughts were interrupted as a return salvo boomed across the sky towards the Gilnean ship.
Glancing at the other ship, Varrus was startled to see it flying Lordaeron¡¯s colors, however, what really made him surprised was that the ship was crewed by the damned! Zombie sailors loaded guns, and were maniacally shooting everything they had!
When the smoke cleared, Varrus was surprised once more by the lack of damage done to the Gilnean vessel. It was largely unharmed between this exchange!
As if sensing his shock, Rho''dan stood beside him, and offered an explanation.
¡°Gilnean Ironwood, Highlord. It is durable, fire retardant, and very expensive.¡± Rho''dan said from the side, and patted the railing with a confident expression.
Varrus nodded along, and turned his attention to the sea giant. He had confidence that the Hero aboard the Gilnean ship could handle both it and the Undead given time, but that didn''t mean he couldn''t make an entrance and secure some good will!
¡°Rho''dan, take us in, we are going to aid the Gilnean forces!¡± Varrus commanded.
¡°Aye aye, sir! You heard your Lord, man the cannons, arm yourselves, prepare for battle yee scallywags!¡± Rho''dan roared, and slammed his gauntleted hand on the railing.
The crew reacted to his words, and moved in a flurry of motion.
Varrus caught a wild grin on Rho''dan¡¯s face, and shook his head with a smile of his own.
His #2 had taken to the high seas better than he thought. Perhaps the red headed guard had spent more time in the open ocean than he had thought?
Shaking his head, Varrus prepared a Bolide spell in his hand.
He wanted to make an impression, that he was a competent mage, one who was well connected to Quel''Thalas. But he did not intend to show off with any of his Master tier spells. By limiting himself to the skills of a low-tier Hero, or high-end Elite, he would showcase himself as a valuable ally to be coveted, yet not one to be wary or feared should he overplay his hand and reveal his true power.
¡°Onward, let us show our new allies the might of the Golden Loom! Bard, play us a sea shanty!¡± Varrus roared in joy, somewhat taken up with Rho''dan''s enthusiasm. As a boy, he had always wanted to fight like a pirate!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
AN: Christmas Sale 40% off, ends on the 31st!
Read the 1st chapter of my new story, Jedi Insurgency on my site!
Read 25 chapters ahead at: patre on.com/KarpQQ
Chapter 109
(Lorna Crowley POV)
Lorna Crowley, daughter of the Northgate Rebel leader, Darius Crowley, was an auburn haired, lithe woman with sharp features, and possessed a confidence about her that others couldn''t help but listen when she spoke.
Wielding an enchanted cutlass in one hand, and a Dwarven rune pistol in the other, her kit was topped off with an enchanted necklace of Elven make; it helped reduce the impact of kinetic or magical strikes.
Standing fearlessly on the deck of her ship, Lorna repeatedly took potshots at the Undead crew with her pistol.
Blue bullets erupted from the maw of her gun, each blue bolt-thick as a mans thumb-exploded where it landed.
After unloading six shots into the enemy, her pistol hummed and vibrated, hot steam escaped its chamber, and the lip of the gun glowed red.
Blue lines slowly began to crawl up the side of the gun as ambient mana in the air was drawn into glowing runes.
Every 30 seconds, a rune would light up, indicating that one bullet had been reloaded.
Whilst her weapon was recharging, Lorna didn''t remain idle. Her crimson cutlass flashed through the air. Wherever she struck, red slices of energy swept at bullets and cannon shot, knocking them out of the sky.
However, for all her efforts, the enemy vessel packed some serious firepower, and inevitably, some attacks would get through.
¡°Aurgh!¡± One man-at-arms fell to the deck, he shakily looked at his missing arm, then passed out as blood leaked from him like a faucet.
Many others fell to the deck with minor wounds as tiny flechette wounds exploded when the wood and timbre of the vessel was struck.
¡°Priest, see to the wounded!¡± Lorn commanded.
Biting her lip in worry for her men, she cut a boulder in half that was tossed from the sea giant, but when she did, that left her ship open for retaliatory fire from the Undead.
¡°Captain, we cannot face both!¡± Her sergeant at arms took aim with his rifle, and popped a head, then ducked for cover.
Lorna knew that they were too far from port to try and break away, but they were close enough to land that some might be able to swim back.
Should she go down this route, over a hundred sailors would die, but if she fought until the bloody end, then all of them would perish!
Closing her eyes, and gripping her hands tight, she made the most difficult decision of her life.
¡°All hands, abandon de-¡±
¡°Reinforcements captain!¡± The sergeant roared, interrupting her.
Snapping her eyes open, Lorna witnessed a galleon sail at the Sea Giant, and open up with a volley of cannon fire.
Emerging from the fog, this new ship was like a phantom as it moved to flank the big teal menace. Smoke from the guns mixed with the shroud of white. The high level obscurity meant that Lorna could not get a good sight of the ship''s colors, but that didn''t matter.
They had been given a second chance!
The opening strike was followed up by a flaming meteor. Fiery orange-red streaked through the air, and forced the Sea Giant back.
Lorna felt her breath hitch at the sight. She knew she could slice that meteor in half, but it would prove challenging. Whoever that mage was, he was no push over!
¡°Dalaran''s balls, they''ve got a powerful mage aboard!¡± The sergeant cheered.
¡°Belay that order! There will be no retreat, and we will give those grey skinned piles of bones a taste of vengeance! All hands, prepare for a boarding action! We''re closing with the enemy!¡± Lorna ordered with determination, and a voice filled with fiery passion.
Her auburn hair covered her face, and heart, which had given up hope a moment ago, and had felt like it had been stabbed and torn apart once again yearned for victory!
She didn''t know who captained the other ship, or if they were Royalists, but against the abominations, they were all Gilneans!
Cannon fire roared, and her ship took a pounding as they came closer, yet so too did the Scourge vessel take serious damage.
Planks were missing, and an explosion in the hull had caused the enemy ship to lose its way, it was moving at an incredibly reduced pace. They would make contact in less than one minute!
¡°Secure the cannons! Tie down the barrels, get your shut together ye scurvy dogs, move, move!¡± The sergeant roared, and pushed men around in a flurry of activity.
When most everything had been accomplished, Lorna raised her cutlass high to the air, and uttered one unifying word to address the crew.
¡°Gilneas!¡± Lorna roared at her crew as the ship teetered closer and closer to the enemy vessel.
¡°Gilneas!¡± Her men roared back, raising their weapons high into the air.
Every sailor had been whipped into a frenzy. They knew that this would be it. One final clash to end it all.
The time to close with the enemy was swiftly approaching!
Nodding her head at the fervor and patriotism of her fellow countrymen, she had one last task to accomplish before they boarded the enemy ship.
Prowling back to her cabin, Lorna slammed the doors open, and grabbed a robed teenager by the scruff of his neck.
¡°Come mage, time to earn your keep.¡± Lorna brusquely demanded, and dragged him out of the room.
The trembling boy was 17, the same age as her, but his lack of enthusiasm made her scowl.
She almost wished they hadn''t taken in some refugees from Dalaran. There were few enough magic practitioners in Gilneas as it was. Her fellow nobles feared that the ¡®up jumped peasants¡¯ would cause a revolutionThis story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.
She couldn''t fault them for that fear, but as queer as the mystics were she could not deny their usefulness.
¡°I, I need more time to prepare, I-¡± The mage stuttered, only to be pushed out into the cold, foggy morning air.
¡°We are seconds away from collision, freeze the ships together, we need a bridge head!¡± Lorna brooked no arguments, and said in a no nonsense tone of voice.
The mage caught sight of her eye, and must''ve sensed her willingness to mete out violence, because he was quick to shut up, and approached the side of the ship.
Lorna nodded her head, thankful that she didn''t have to resort to anything more drastic than some harsh words. Every second she delayed would mean her men would die.
As captain of this crew, she would not allow the inaction of one man to jeopardize the lives and trust her crew had placed on her!
¡°Ten seconds! Brace! Brace! Brace!¡± The sergeant roared.
Men and women held tightly onto ropes, railing, anything that could secure themselves for the oncoming collision.
Lorna held onto the mage with one hand, and the railing with another.
A second later, a mighty collision resounded in the air.
¡°Do it.¡± Lorna ordered.
The mage was shaking, yet he began a chant. Blue light colored his eyes, and coated his hands.
A moment later, frost left his fingertips, and the two ships were locked together.
Falling to his knees, the mage was panting from mana exhaustion, but Lorna couldn''t afford to spare him any more attention.
¡°Forward!¡± Lorna ordered, then charged and led the vanguard.
Her cutlass sliced through a rusted sword, and diced a decayed arm, then entire body from top to bottom.
Twin halves of a corpse fell rotting to the deck, but she paid it no mind, and moved on to the next opponent with speed and precision.
Ducking a musket shot, and the stab of a spear, she began to cut, parry, and sliced her way forward.
Soon, the thumbs of boots jumping on the deck followed after her, and her crew joined the melee.
Anarchy ensued as men bled out, and skeletons were crushed under foot.
A group of 6 Elite, plate wearing Death Knights marched towards Lorna. Their enchanted weapons cut through her ranks like butter.
She took aim with her pistol, and unloaded all 6 shots on a singular Death Knight.
The Elite blocked two of the bullets, brother precision and accuracy outskilled him, and they got through. The first two ultra hot blue bullets clashed with a barrier of frost, then popped it. The next bullet scorched the heavy plate helm, and the last bullet penetrated the scorch mark, and exploded inside.
Her pistol hummed as it recharged. Holstering the marvelous Dwarven weapon, she prepared herself for some intense close quarters combat.
The sergeant pulled up next to her alongside 4 other Elites from House Crowley. They too were decked out in plate armor, and wielded enchanted weapons.
¡°Ready, sergeant?¡± Lorna smirked.
¡°Ready as I''ll ever be, captain.¡± The sergeant gruffly replied, and banged his longsword against his buckler shield.
¡°Good, we wouldn''t want to bore you!¡± A cultured voice spoke from behind the Death Knights.
Emerging from their ranks, an unhealthily pale, dashing man dressed in violet colored, noble attire smirked.
His long black hair, mustache, goatee, and great coat all fluttered as a cool seabreeze passed through.
¡°Cervantes.¡± Lorna frowned.
¡°The very same.¡± The debonair man tilted his tricorn hat in greeting.
¡°Even the Scourge can get to pirate scum like you, huh?¡± Lorna mocked.
¡°What can I say, my dear? Immortality was such a tantalizing offer. I can share it with you, Lady Crowley. Think of it, no more hunger, no more pain, no more fear of what comes next. It is an astounding experience.¡± Cervantes slowly edged forward, his twin swords glowing ominously.
The sound of his boots on the deck seemed to pull Lorna into a trance. Her focus on the rest of the battle, the sound of swords clashing, and men screaming all faded away.
¡°Snap out of it, captain!¡± The sergeant urged.
Shaking her head, Lorna felt herself getting pushed back, and a pair of gor tipped blades pressed mere inches from her face.
Blood sprayed onto her clothes as she watched her loyal sergeant gutted right in front of her.
Shock.
Horror.
Rage.
It all bubbled to the surface as she witnessed her faithful companion fall to the deck, dead.
¡°Pity. I thought you''d fall for that. Oh well, you''ll join him soon enough.¡± Cervantes shrugged his shoulders, and spoke with a calm casuality as if he had done something as simple as taking out the trash.
Flicking his blood tipped blades, Cervantes lunged at her.
Lorna pressed back, and a duel ensued.
Her cutlass marched his twin swords blow after blow.
Swiping at his head, Lorna tossed a zombie into his oncoming attack, and forced the dread pirate back.
Pressing forward, she scored a few nicks and cuts on his outfit, and even managed to snag a pair of fingers, weakening Cervantes''s hold on his left sword.
¡°A drunken fool who only ever wielded his blade against peasants and commoners. Today marks your end, scum!¡± Lorna scowled, and batted away his sword, then drew her pistol ready to blast his head off.
However, the black haired Undead pirate smirked at her.
His face of confidence clued her in that something wasn''t right. She tried to turn around, but the hand she had severed gripped onto her ankle, pulling her back.
Black tendrils entered her leg, and she cried out in pain, and fell to one knee.
Emerging from the ongoing melee, two blood drenched Death Knights tossed the corpses of her House Elites to her feet.
¡°You see luv, I may not be trained in yer fancy noble artes. But the sea be my mistress, and she taught me all I needed to survive.¡± Cervantes leered down at her in triumph. His mouth opened wide, and revealed a hole full of rotten black teeth, and worms.
Lorna recoiled, and dumped the stored bullets into the pirate captain.
¡°Hahaha. It''s over, Miss Crowley! You are mine! Welcome to the Midnight Howl, I be treating you real nice!¡± Cervantes howled with laughter as he blocked each of her bullets, and the Death Knights moved to stab her in the back.
¡°Father, Sergeant Lucas, everyone¡I''m sorry.¡± Lorna bitterly muttered to herself as she mustered up what energy she had left, and intended to resist until the end.
She parried one sword, cutting off one DK''s knees, she then rolled, dodging a cleaving slice, and tripped the last DK, ending him with a quick cut to the neck.
However, the black splotch on her leg was festering, and the Undead hand was digging malignant fingernails into her flesh. Every second that ticked by, she felt herself die little by little.
The pain and poison entering her system was so severe, she felt as if she could barely move.
¡°Blasted wench.¡¯ Cervantes raised his blade to finish the job, when a sudden crash rocked the boat, and caused him to miss.
¡°Avast, House Vanhook has joined the battle!¡± A manly voice called out.
Through her fading vision, Lorna saw a swashbuckling young man run at Cervantes, blade in hand.
Besides him, a paladin shining in Holy Light wielding a massive sword swung at the Undead.
A flash of flame and a bright light swept before her eyes. She felt hot air, then nothing as the ever pervasive fog reentered the battlefield.
She heard the groans of the wounded, meaning the reinforcements had made it in time, they had won!
Forcing her eyes open, she got a good look at the man who had saved her crew. She at least wanted to lay eyes upon the one who had avenged her before she died.
It was a lithe, young man with shaggy brown hair, and blue eyes. By the look of it, he was probably no older than his early 20''s. He had an arrogant, perhaps cocky smile on his face as he peered down at her.
¡°Well, well, well. Look at you!¡± The man clapped his hands and laughed.
Lorna wanted to scowl. She was dying here, and the man had the nerve to laugh!
Dark splotches coated her eyes, but she mustered up some final effort to say something, to get some last message to her father.
The information they had been seeking was true. The Scourge had begun to take over, and construct ships. The wall that Greymane was so proud of would count for nothing if the enemy could invade by sea!
¡°Take. Take wo-word to Crowley, the Scourge. They-¡± Lorna barely got out with great pain, but the blasted young man simply put his hands on his hips and laughed some more, interrupting her dying breath.
¡°She really thinks she''s going to die, huh Ro?¡± The young man turned to a large red headed muscular man.
¡°She will pass if she is not seen to, my Lord.¡± Ro responded.
¡°Oh yeah.¡± The man shook his head as if he had forgotten something, and snapped his fingers.
A second later, golden energy suffused her body, and Liadrin sucked in a breath as her heart and lungs got back to normal, and the disease left her system.
Standing angrily to her feet, Lorna moved to grab the surly fuck by his collar, only to catch a blur of motion as the silver armored paladin decked her across the face.
Rolling to her feet, Lorna wiped blood from her chin and growled.
Some of her surviving men witnessed this, and stepped beside her, weapons held at the ready.
¡°Easy now, easy. The wife doesn''t like other women touching the merchandise. You''re lucky all you have is a bloody chin!¡± The handsome man raised his hands in calm, and exclaimed in surprise.
¡°What is the meaning of this? Are you a servant of Greymane, or do you stand with Northgate?¡± Lorna pointed her cutlass at them.
¡°Neither really, but I''ve been away for too long up in Quel''Thalas. They drove the Scourge out of their homeland, so I figured now would be a good time to return to Gilneas and see how things have transpired. Honestly? Not impressed.¡± The man said with a shake of the head.
His tone of voice and impermanence was aggravating to no end, but he did save her.
¡®Damned man!¡¯ Lorna internally seethed.
Yet eyeing Cervantes''s rotting corpse lying still on the deck, she had a newfound appreciation for this maddening man.
If what he said was true, then perhaps they could see a new ally against the tyrant, Greymane.
¡°Hmph. Fine, I''ll accept that answer. But I believe introductions are in order. I am Lorna Crowley, daughter of Lord Crowley. And you are?¡±
¡°Thought you''d never ask! The name''s Vigo Vanhook. Pleasure to meet you!¡± Vigo slightly nodded, and flourished his feathered cap.
Lorna closed her eyes and sharply inhaled.
This handsome bloke was trouble, but in desperate times like these, madmen like Vigo were a needed commodity.
¡°Welcome Vigo. Let us retire to my cabin, we have much to discuss. Many things have changed since your departure for Quel''Thalas.¡±
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
AN: 40% christmas sale 3 days left till it expires~
Chapter 110
Note: Changed Rho''dan''s ¡°Human¡± alias to Roy.
As Varrus marched along towards Lorna Crowley''s cabin, he made note of the Gilnean soldiers.
Almost every one of them was armed with a flintlock pistol, or musket.
Curiously, he even noticed a few dozen breech loaded rifles, which was a significant tech upgrade from the more commonplace muskets that could be found throughout Human lands.
While this discovery wasn''t ground breaking, or seriously threatening considering that wands were the Elven equivalent to guns, it was something worth noting.
Ever since the Orcs invaded, the Humans and the Dwarves were in an arms race to counteract their brutish strength, and foreign magic.
With mages being less than 1 in 10,000 amongst the Humans, and nonexistent amongst Dwarves, the great equalizer was the gun. When Demons, Dragons, Voidlings, and all sorts of threats attacked, the only way for an average Human to survive was to invest in guns!
Swords and spears were nice, but with a population of huge peasants readily available, Varrus could foresee these weapons becoming more and more common.
Breech loaded rifles were impressive to Varrus because of a couple reasons.
One, they had grooved barrels, meaning they could be fired more accurately at longer ranges.
Secondly, they were much faster to reload than muskets. Where muskets required a ball to be prepared in a wad, and then get rammed down the shaft, a breech loaded rifle had the bullet loaded closer to the trigger, like a double barreled shotgun.
As Varrus was musing about the advancing tech tree, he made sure to splash the wounded sailors with healing magic for good measure, and earn himself some bonus points for the upcoming discussion.
He made a show of it, and chanted some nonsense words with a deep timbre to his voice too.
A dozen wounded people stopped their groaning, and stared at Varrus in shock.
Even those who weren''t hurt had looks of surprise on their faces.
Varrus quirked an eyebrow.
Had he done too much? He knew that his healing capabilities were awesome, even by Elven standards, but it wasn''t like the Highborn didn''t have their fair share of priests.
Surely this wasn''t anything strange in a fantasy world?
Glancing at Rho''dan for some advice, his chief guard slapped his own face. ¡°Act fatigued.¡± The red headed man muttered.
Varrus''s eyes widened. He totally forgot about that!
In Quel''Thalas, everyone was used to such displays of magic. With the Sunwell being such a cultural icon for thousands of years, it was strange to see someone tired after casting magic. Even after its destruction, they had Mana Stones to subsist off of.
But for Humans, or anyone else for that matter? Mana was a precious resource to be used sparingly, or in moments of great need.
Varrus''s casual use of magic went against the norms.
However, this could only help serve his goals to appear in a more friendly light.
Plastering a sickly look on his face, Varrus stood in a hunch, and leaned onto Syra for support.
His wife rolled her eyes at him, yet she held him tight. Perhaps too tight. It seemed she did not care for the close contact he had with Lorna a moment ago!
Varrus leaned into her tight embrace, and let her drive the air out of him to sell the image of an enfeebled man.
¡°You are a priest as well?¡± Lady Crowley paused in her stride, and turned to Varrus with a look of curiosity.
¡°I dabble in the Light.¡± Varrus chuckled.
¡°I was rude to you earlier, I''m sorry for that. What you did for me was important. But more important than saving my life, you saved the lives of many men. Thank you Lord Vanhook, from all of us!¡± Lorna nodded her head in appreciation at Varrus, then half bowed at him.
¡°Northgate, salute our savior, salute the fallen!¡± Lorna raised her voice to the crew.
¡°Salute!¡± A few dozen sailors raised their guns to the air, and fired off into the cool morning sea.
¡°Now please, I would like to get to know both you, and Lady Vanhook better within my quarters.¡± Lorna gestured, and took the lead once more, but this time, she was going all out to appear friendly and congenial.
Varrus chuckled, but felt the grip on his side grow even tighter.
¡°O-oi, Rho''dan, a little help?¡± Varrus said in jest to his guard.
¡°Unhand the Highlord. You know he is simply playing politics.¡± Rho''dan said with steel in his voice.
Varrus felt like the atmosphere went frigid for a moment.
¡°Please come inside, I have some coffee beans, straight from Stranglethorn Vale!¡± Lorna called out to them from her cabin.
¡°Ah ha ha, yes, let us go.¡± Varrus pulled himself out of Syra''s death grip, and gave Rho''dan a ¡®what the hell?¡¯ look, then dragged her along by the hand.
¡°I shall protect you from out here. Enjoy yourself, my Lord.¡± Rho''dan sternly bowed with great seriousness, then closed the cabin door behind them.
Varrus wanted to question Syra about that odd interaction, but before he could, Lorna had placed three cups of steaming hot coffee down in front of them.
Looking around the cramped quarters, Varrus saw maps, charts, a hastily made bed, and a pile of dirty clothes stuffed in a wardrobe.
¡°A loyal man, that guard of yours. Keep him close, because you never know when they''ll be gone in the line of duty.¡± Lorna stared at her beverage with a forlorn look upon her face.
¡°Rho, ahem, Roy has been with me since I was a boy, he''s a good man. But what really keeps me going in this cruel world is my wife. Without her, I never would have survived the Scourge outbreak.¡± Varrus smiled, and patted Syra on the hand as he took a seat.
Syra rolled her eyes, clearly aware of Varrus''s sweet words, but she seemed happy to go along with his act, and silently sat by his side.
This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
Varrus subtly nodded in appreciation at her understanding. He knew she had little desire to speak when other people were around due to some deep seated childhood traumas, and respected her need for silence.
¡°How fortunate that you two love one another. I was betrothed to Prince Greymane, but with the disagreement between our fathers, it was not meant to be.¡± Lorna bitterly stared off into the ceiling at the end of her statement.
Varrus raised an eyebrow. What was this, a Romeo and Juliet plot line?
However, instead of the lovers dying, perhaps he could kill off the warring parents, and leave the children of both sides in his debt? He was still searching for a replacement to lead Gilneas, one subject to his whims, and this could be a tentative ¡®Plan A.¡¯
¡°A tragedy to be sure, Lady Crowley. Perhaps I could send a message to the Prince when I go to Gilneas City.¡± Varrus suggested.
¡°You shouldn''t!¡± Lorna harshly rebuked, but upon seeing Varrus''s stone-like expression, she quickly amended herself.
¡°I mean, the Royalists will likely shoot on sight, assuming you are either a rebel, or a plague carrier. Anyone not flying their colors is persona non grata.¡± Lorna explained.
¡°That is all risk I am willing to take, after all, while I hold close ties with the Elves, I am a man of Gilneas at heart, and wish to explore both sides of this issue before deciding if I should get involved.¡± Varrus crossed his arms.
¡°...that is a most gracious offer, Lord Vanhook, I thank you for carrying a letter for me. But enough of me, you claimed that the Highborn have driven the Scourge from their lands, is this true?¡± Lorna leaned forward in curiosity.
¡°Tis true. Whilst visiting their fair lands for trade, we witnessed the might of their Heroes and army. It was truly spectacular. However, for all their power, the Elves are few in number. They asked their distant kin to search for allies.¡± Varrus half bowed, and raised his mug of coffee before taking a sip.
¡®Bitter!¡¯ Varrus failed to mask his expression, and pursed his lips at the strong taste.
Syra chuckled beside him, and took a big swig herself. A satisfied look appeared on her face.
¡®Ah, so she enjoys bitter flavors, she? From all the sweet foods she bakes for me, I thought she also had a sweet tooth. Hm, maybe her flavor profile was influenced by the time she was forced to survive in the forest against the Amani as a little girl?¡¯ Varrus thought to himself as he glanced at his loving wife.
Syra poked him in the side, and nodded towards Crowley. Evidently she had been saying something, but it had gone completely over his head.
¡°Hm, sorry Lady Crowley, could you say that again?¡± Varrus said with a roguish grin.
¡°Haah, the up-tight religious zealots of Lordaeron would be scowling if they saw such impropriety. You are a lucky couple.¡± Lorna shook her head, and took another sip of her coffee.
¡°As I was saying, what would the Elves want with Gilneas? They were the first to leave the Alliance, claiming Human idiocy led to the Orcs invading Eversong and burning down their woods. Then under the King''s orders, we foolishly left the Alliance within days of that happening. We are not exactly the closest of peoples.¡± Lorna shook her head, and looked at Varrus in confusion.
¡°Well for one, you''re no Undead, and secondly, you''re easily reachable via boat. Most of Lordaeron is a cesspool of rot, and from my understanding, the Elves would rather fight the Undead together, than alone.¡± Varrus explained.
¡°Then you should join the Northgate Rebellion! King Greymane wants nothing more than to sit on his throne, and do nothing! We, on the other hand, want to help our fellow Humans, and end this blight!¡± Lorna spoke with passion.
Varrus could see the light of revolution burning in her eyes from that statement. She was an idealistic, well meaning youth.
He admired that trait, especially the well meaning part. People could be so nasty sometimes, and cruel for no reason. It was refreshing to see a noble who wasn''t caught up in pomp and fashion.
However, would someone so idealistic be willing to stay under Elven leadership?
Varrus didn''t know, and that uncertainty was giving him some strong reservations.
Perhaps ¡®Plan A¡¯ could take a back seat for now as he continued to shop around for a Gilnean leader. But that didn''t mean he couldn''t be friendly with the young lady.
¡°I appreciate the invitation, but again, I must decline for the moment. Until I see the state of things with my own eyes, I will reserve my judgment.¡±
¡°Oh, well, as is your right. You will find my father to be very accommodating. Much more so than that stuffy fossil we call a King.¡± Lorna pouted.
Varrus thought the expression on her face was quite cute. If he wasn''t a married man, perhaps Lady Crowley would have a new suitor, but alas, he was taken.
Feeling a pinch on his side, Varrus dropped the smile, and decided to get down to business before he departed.
¡°Ahem. In any case, the Elves have graciously provided arms and provisions for the people of Gilneas in their time of need. It is within my discretion to whom these goods shall be distributed to, and I deem you worthy of such a gift.¡± Varrus stated in a grand manner.
¡°The Elves are known for their isolated nature, is this true?¡± Lorna skeptically looked Varrus in the eye.
¡°Fresh fruit, grain, and masterworked iron arms and armor. All gifted in the name of peace and friendship.¡± Varrus couldn''t help but grin.
¡°Come, I''ll show you.¡± Varrus stood from his seat, and beckoned.
After walking between ships, and entering the Golden Loom''s hold, Varrus popped open a couple of the chests, and revealed the goods.
¡°I accept this gracious gift, however, are you certain there is nothing I can give in return? Although gold is scarce with the outbreak of this war, I am sure my father could-¡±
¡°Say no more, this is a gift. However, if you would do me a favor, could you satisfy my curiosity, Lady Crowley?¡± Varrus gently closed a chest, and glanced at her.
¡°You have been mostly generous, Lord Vanhook. Ask away.¡± Lorna replied with a smile.
¡°Where did you acquire such a marvelous handgun?¡± Varrus asked.
He had been impressed with the invention, as it seemed capable of threatening even Elites!
¡°Oh, this? My father commissioned many weapons from the Dwarves of Iron Forge. They included this as a thank you for such a large order. From what the merchant said, it is an experimental technology, but one that is gaining traction with the help of Gnomish engineers.¡± Lorna held out the glowing gun filled with runes, and offered it to Varrus.
Taking hold of it, Varrus was reminded of the plasma pistols from 40k, or perhaps more accurately, the blaster pistols from Star Wars. It was pretty cool to hold something so sci-fi in a fantasy world.
But this pistol was just a fraction of Gnomish + Dwarven technology. They had helicopters, long range artillery, and teleportation pads. In retrospect, something like this wasn''t very surprising when the Draenai were literally space faring aliens, and other insane levels of tech already existed in-universe.
Hell, the guns that hunters used in WoW were probably just as, if not more outlandish than this pistol.
Shrugging his shoulders, Varrus let the surprise leave him. If tanks, helicopters, heavy artillery, and flamethrowers were Canon, then a rune pistol was the least surprising item on that list.
¡°If you like it, it''s yours.¡± Lorna spoke up, interrupting Varrus''s thoughts.
Looking up, Varrus saw that she didn''t really want to give up the gun, but he wasn''t going to say no to this.
If he could get Telonicus to reverse engineer the pistol, or make an Elven version of it, then that would be great.
Varrus intended to recruit entire kingdoms to his coalition. If he could equip low skill peasants with guns like these, then they would stand a fighting chance the next time the Burning Legion, or other existential crisis made itself known.
¡°Thank you for the gift. Let this exchange commemorate our friendship.¡± Varrus took the pistol, and placed it within a pocket within his robe.
¡°Safe travels to you, Lord Vanhook. I have funeral rites to attend too, then I must report to my father. Please keep my offer in mind. Northgate would appreciate your support.¡± Lorna slightly bowed her head, then departed the hold.
Several members of her crew shuffled in, and began to haul chests away.
Varrus paid them no mind as he held Syra close. Once they had left, and there was no one but Varrus and Syra within the hold, he leaned close to whisper to her.
¡°Patience my love, she is of no threat to you. I meant what I said back there. Without you, I would be lost to the Scourge. I will always cherish what you have given me.¡± Varrus leaned close, and tried to kiss her on the lips, only to meet the palm of her hand.
¡°Not while you look like that, it feels like cheating.¡± Syra glanced at Varrus with a hint of ire in her voice.
Varrus withheld a sigh, it would be nice to make love to the Human persona Syra had disguised herself as, but he could see her point.
In fact, he admired her resolve to keep their relationship pure.
¡°You are right, of course. I was merely testing you.¡± Varrus flashed a roguish grin.
¡°This is why I have to watch you around other women. I know you weren''t really a playboy, but that attitude of yours enures women to your charm. And I won''t have it. You''re mine, Varrus, and only mine.¡± Syra tugged Varrus close, and clunked her forehead on his, then walked off.
Rubbing his neck, Varrus blew out a breath full of hot air.
Damn that women knew how to get him hot and bothered!
Kicking the floorboard, Varrus put his hands in his pockets, and whistled a merry tune as he walked out to the top of the deck.
¡°Trouble, my Lord?¡± Rho''dan questioned as Varrus emerged from the lower decks.
¡°Nothing I can''t handle my friend. Now, let''s set sail for Gilneas City.¡± Varrus ordered.
¡°We are not stopping at Keel Harbor then?¡± Rho''dan questioned.
¡°Nah, I got what I wanted. Meeting with Lord Crowley would just be a waste of time.¡± Varrus put his hands behind his head, and looked out to the endless sea of fog in boredom.
¡°You intend to replace the father with the daughter?¡±
¡°Maybe. She''s pretty headstrong, I want to shop around a bit.¡±
¡°Hmm, well if I may offer a suggestion, perhaps you could look to Greymane''s daughter as a figurehead.¡± Rho''dan suggested.
¡°I wasn''t aware you were so intune with Gilnean politics, Rho''dan. Why the daughter, and not the son?¡± Varrus questioned with genuine curiosity.
¡°As your father''s servant, I have eyes on many channels of information. And why the daughter? Let''s just say that she has a particular condition that Greymane would rather keep private.¡± Rho''dan mirthlessly grinned.
¡°Is she a Worgen?¡± Varrus asked, somewhat surprised, but not shocked in the least.
Greymane, after all, ended up infected with the magical disease himself, and tried to hide it from his ministers in the original timeline.
¡°Not quite. Her constitution has made her grow close to the Void. Very few are privy to this information, and I suspect Lady Vandercross could prove to be a suitable mentor for the one you wish to place upon the throne.¡±
¡°Hmmm, I''ll keep that in mind. It is a good ¡®Plan B.¡¯ Thanks Rho''dan, I don''t know what I''d do without you.¡± Varrus smiled, and clapped the taller man on the shoulder.
¡°It''s what I do. Now if you''ll excuse me, I must correct our course, and chart out the path to Gilnean City¡± Rho''dan bowed, then turned to complete his task.
Varrus sighed as he watched his closest confidant go about his business.
Rho''dan protected his back, interrogated his enemies, ran a spy network, knew how to sail a boat, and probably had a thousand other skills Varrus was unaware of.
Lorna was right, he should cherish his time together with Rho''dan. Because if he died, Varrus would feel like he lost a limb, and gone blind in one eye.
Nodding his head, Varrus decided he would have to try and get adamantium ASAP. The sooner he could clad Syra and Rho''dan in that absolutely OP material, then the greater his peace of mind.
He may be a one man army, but without his friends and loved ones, it would be extremely lonely at the top.
Releasing a sigh filled with pent up emotions, Varrus reassured himself as to why he fought in this crazy war, and why he was willing to commit basically what amounted to war crimes for the sake of security.
¡°It''s all for my family.¡± Varrus muttered, as he imagined him and Syra holding onto a beautiful baby girl or boy.
Clinging tightly to the railing, Varrus looked out into the fog, and resolved himself to win over Gilneas, no matter the cost.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Last day on that 40% Christmas sale~
Chapter 111
Sailing into the nation of Gilneas proper, Varrus consulted a map from within his cabin.
The country was a large peninsula divided into 5 different regions.
To the north was the province of Northgate. This region was where the wall that separated Gilneas from the rest of the Eastern Kingdoms was located, and the sight that began the rebellion in the first place. It was flush with trees, and was where the famous Gilnean ironwood was procured. Before the Orc War, and Gilneas''s withdrawal from the world, lumber was their number one export.
In the east was the province of Emberstone. It was home to many mines, and mineral deposits. Additionally, its mostly flat land was the only one suitable for farms amongst all of Gilneas''s regions.
To the south was the Blackwald, a large swampy province deemed to be almost uninhabitable. What Towns and villages that did exist were primarily along the coast. Often these places had the phrase ¡®storm¡¯ somewhere in their name. Unsurprisingly, this region was often subject to heavy flooding, and dense rainfall.
To the west and north-west were the Headlands. A region hilly and rainy, it was similar in feature to much of northern Scotland, and had many cliffs on the western side, making it impossible for any ports to form. However, the eastern side of this peninsula was sheltered from waves, and many fishing communities formed. It was here that Keel Harbor-one of the major rebel strongholds-was located.
Lastly, in the center of it all was Varrus''s current destination.
Gilneas City.
Sitting upon a series of large islands, the city was similar in geography to New York City. In terms of sheer size, the landmass of Gilneas City was almost as large as any one province. In effect, it was practically a state all of its own.
The seat of the royal Greymane family, Gilneas City had a proud military tradition, and trained thousands of soldiers every year. It served as the commercial hub, and as a beacon for craftsmen to ply their trade.
¡°We should go on a date when we arrive. I heard Gilneas City is quite the opposite of Silvermoon from the bards, and other soldiers I fought alongside in the Orc War. I wonder if this is true?¡± Syra spoke from a nearby chair.
Varrus looked over, and saw she was busy sharpening her sword. The care and attention she spent into maintaining her weapon was another trait he admired about her. It took real work and dedication to keep a weapon fresh and ready to go. The fact she did it herself gave her a reliable quality, and made her seem more down to earth than the regular prissy Highborn.
¡°What? You agree don''t you?¡± Syra looked up from her blade, and looked at Varrus curiously since he had been staring at her silently.
¡°Of course I do, we''ll have a great time in Gilneas City, I''m sure heads will roll when the locals see us.¡± Varrus grinned. ¡°I was simply caught up in the moment admiring my wife''s skills.¡± Varrus gestured towards her blade.
¡°Well, anyone could do it.¡± Syra quickly turned back to her task, but Varrus noticed her cheeks were flushed red.
The grin on his face only blossomed wider. Syra was so used to being needled by her mother, that whenever he genuinely praised her, she would clam up, and turn red like a tomato.
It was quite adorable.
Varrus was about to tease her some more when he felt the boat shake to a sudden halt.
Stumbling forward, Syra suddenly stood, and caught him in a tight embrace.
¡°I''d better go check what that is.¡± Varrus said in an annoyed tone-like someone forced to get out of bed on a day off-and reluctantly pried himself out of Syra''s arms.
Walking up onto the deck, Varrus found that their ship was surrounded by 3 other vessels. A dozen searchlights pierced the thick fog, and almost blinded him with their intensity.
Shading his eyes, Varrus followed the source of the light, and found several stone watchtowers, and a wall flush with cannons on the horizon. Further past the wall was an opening leading to a harbor.
They must be at Gilneas City! This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
¡°Stay where you are, and prepare to be boarded!¡± A nasally, cultured voice yelled at them from one of the other boats.
A gangplank was soon slammed down upon the side of their ship, and a gaggle of armed men rushed aboard.
¡°Good morning gentleman, what can we do for you this fine morning?¡± Varrus stepped forth with a friendly grin on his face.
The grim soldiers roughly pointed blades and muskets at the polymorphed members of House Vandercross. Varrus saw that many of them looked haggard, and had dark circles under their eyes.
These men looked trigger happy. The paranoia of zombies, and Worgen would do that to a man. Varrus idly thought to himself.
¡°You men wear the tabard of Vanhook, where is your Lord, has he gone and gotten himself slain? What are you doing returning to Gilneas City 6 months after the Scourge outbreak? You''re not knife-eared spies, hm?¡± The cultured voice from earlier spoke out once more.
Heavy boots slammed along the gangplank, and a bearded, spectacled old man appeared out of the fog.
Dressed in all black like a funeral mourner, the man wore a top hat in the style that Abraham Lincoln wore, and wielded a rapier in one hand, and a flintlock in the other.
Varrus recognized this man. He was the third most influential man within the kingdom, it was Lord Vincent Godfrey.
¡°Greetings Lord Godfrey, I am Vigo, heir and nephew to the late Lord Vanhook. We rode out the storm in Quel''Thalas, tis true, but when we learnt of a rebellion taking place in our homeland, we rushed back to swear our allegiance to the crown.¡± Varrus placed a hand over his heart, and tilted his head.
¡°A most heartwarming tale, young Vigo. If it is true, I am certain the King would be pleased to add another ship to his navy. We are facing dark times, where kin can smile with one word, then stab a friend in the back with that very same smile. You understand, of course, that we must search your vessel?¡± Godfrey asked rhetorically. At the same time, he waved his hands at his soldiers, and they began their search, uncaring for Varrus''s consent.
Varrus didn''t care for this treatment, but he understood why someone neck deep in a civil war would be so suspicious of a noble that returned so late into the conflict.
That didn''t mean Varrus was going to let Godfrey off though. If he was just doing his duty, Varrus wouldn''t mind, but the guy was being a prick about it. Plus, Godfrey was a diehard Human supremacist. Canonically, when he learnt that Greymane was infected with the Worgen curse, he committed suicide rather than serve what in his eyes, was a perversion.
Such a character would prove to be a thorn in Varrus''s idea of Elven hegemony, so for that reason, he had to go.
¡°Easy with the chests, I have traded for some fine silks, fresh foods, and arms!¡± Varrus raised his voice as he saw the soldiers roughly handle his merchandise.
¡°You don''t have anything to hide, hm? No rebels hidden amongst your crew? Or missing goods donated graciously to the Northgaters?¡± Godfrey pressed his spectacles to his face, and leaned close to Varrus in suspicion.
Varrus wrinkled his nose as the man''s breath was foul, and reeked of garlic.
¡°Nonsense. I have-at great personal expense-secured a gift for King Greymane and his subjects. The Scourge and the traitors are a serious threat to my homeland. It is every native Gilneans dream to see our country whole and strong against all threats, whether they be foreign.¡± Varrus paused to look out towards the Highlands. ¡°Or domestic.¡± Varrus about faced, and glared at Godfrey.
¡°Oh hoh hoh, you have gumption boy, a real Gilnean! Unlike that soft hearted fool, Crowley. I do hope you speak truth, Vigo.¡± Godfrey revealed a mouth full of pearly whites, then turned to his adjutant.
¡°It''s as he says sir, the hold is full of food and weapons. None of their crew match any of the descriptions of the wanted posters either. The ship is filled to capacity, he couldn''t have donated any supplies to the rebels my Lord.¡± The adjutant saluted.
¡°Well then, it seems I''ll be calling you ¡®Lord Vanhook¡¯ in the near future when you give your vows to the King, won''t I? Ha! Rest at your manor, and I''ll see a page notify you when the King is available. This gift will surely put a smile on his face.¡± Godfrey sheathed his weapons, and tipped his hat at Varrus.
¡°I live to serve Gilneas.¡± Varrus cooly replied.
¡°Of course you do. Welcome home!¡± Godfrey cackled, then turned about to board his ship.
Once the other boats unhooked themselves from the Golden Loom, Varrus sighed in relief that his cover wasn''t blown.
It would be a hassle to kill his way out, and make his planned infiltration that much more difficult.
Thankfully, he had tons of resources within his Deep Storage. After sending Lorna Crowley off with some goods, he simply refilled the chests in his hold from his inventory.
¡°Such disrespect, I will be glad to show him the hospitality of the Vandercross dungeons, Highlord.¡± Rho''dan said from the side.
Varrus glanced at his long-time guard, and shook his head. Although he was a stalwart guardian who often offered rational advice, it was easy to forget how bloodthirsty he and the Crossguard could be at times.
An image of Zul¡¯Jin regrowing his limbs, only to have them hacked off again and again by his men flashed through his mind.
¡°That will be unnecessary my friend. It is better to end such cantankerous old men than to posture and gloat. Some enemies are better transformed into ash, then to chance their return.¡± Varrus cautioned, as he had had enough of the typical ¡®good guy¡¯ narrative in which imprisoned great evils escape to wreak havoc on the world.
Hell, all of the Old Gods were currently imprisoned, and were ticking time bombs just waiting to ravage Azeroth once more.
In fact, Godfrey ended up becoming an Undead in the original timeline, and became a terrorist guerrilla fighter. So yeah, Varrus would only use prison if there was no other choice, like with Dakar. Otherwise, it was simply in his best interest to eliminate all his opponents.
¡°I think I know what I want to do for our date.¡± Syra emerged from the cabin, and placed her chin on Varrus''s shoulder.
Varrus glanced at Syra''s joyful expression of gleeful murder, and he could only shake his head once more.
¡®Sorry old man, but it seems your time has come.¡¯
¡°Of course, my dear, but let us get settled in at the manor first, then we shall have our fun.¡± Varrus acquiesced to her idea.
¡°Shall I take us in?¡± Rho''dan questioned, and gestured towards the harbor.
Varrus nodded his head, then turned to address the rest of House Vandercross that had come along.
¡°This is it people, I know that the Humans may not be important to you, but they will serve as a valuable asset in our war against the Scourge. Do not allow yourselves to be revealed. You all have your assignments, for House Vandercross!¡±
¡°For House Vandercross!¡± The men echoed.
Varrus nodded at them happily.
Gilneas would join them soon. Once that was accomplished, and Telonicus had set up the Rune Stones, he would restore the Sunwell.
It was all coming together. A net was slowly forming around the Scourge, and they didn''t know better.
Chapter 112
A day had passed since Varrus and company had settled into Vanhook Manor, and he was ready to explore the city with Syra on a date.
The night before, he had sent Rho''dan out with an invitation to meet with Prince Liam Greymane so that he could deliver Lorna Crowley''s letter. They were due to meet a few days later at an opera house.
Rho''dan had also delivered a message to meet with Princess Tess Greymane, but received no reply.
Lastly, Varrus was still waiting for the King''s schedule to free up, so until then, he would see the sites, then eliminate Godfrey once they had had their fun.
It was a cool, and foggy morning in Gilneas City, and Varrus intended to see what he could during his brief stay. As someone who had driven nearly every inch of his home town of 200,000+ people, Varrus had a knack for urban exploration.
Standing at the gate to the manor, Varrus held out his arm to Syra, and helped her into a horse drawn carriage.
Once they were inside, Rho''dan whipped the reins, and they were off.
Varrus kept holding onto Syra¡¯s hand, and silently watched out the window as they drove down cobblestone streets. She leaned into him, and they silently enjoyed one another''s company.
Taking a sip of tea, Varrus enjoyed the feeling of warm currents traveling throughout his system. The morning chill was rather intense, and the warmth of his loving wife, and a good cup of tea soothed his soul.
Just the other day he was fighting ghost pirates, and a literal giant. It was small moments like this carriage ride that he lived for.
Risking his life was exciting, and a little scary, but it had become such a frequent event, that he came to view it as a necessary evil.
But when he was alone with Syra, and the threat of imminent extermination wasn''t breathing down his neck, then he could truly relax, and unwind.
He had a lot on his plate, including a planned assassination later in the evening. It was crazy how regular such an idea had become. He almost wanted to scoff at how easy it was to become the man he currently was.
But he had seen what leaving a festering thorn had resulted in. The Cult of the Damned, the betrayal by Darkhan, it was all avoidable if the leadership had been more proactive.
¡°It will all be okay, my love. You are doing better than anyone had expected.¡± Syra soothed, and massaged Varrus''s shoulder.
Varrus sipped on his tea once more, and warmly smiled at Syra. ¡°Of course you noticed my fugue. It''s nothing serious, I¡¯m simply enjoying the calm before the storm. You don''t need to worry.¡± Varrus was quick to reassure his wife, because he didn''t want her to feel down.
¡°How can I not worry? You are so busy every day, I''m glad you are here, I''m glad you are you.¡± Syra snuggled closer.
¡°Hoh?¡± Varrus grinned, took a whiff of her hair, and enjoyed her scent.
¡°Mhm, because if you didn''t step up, then I''d have to lead.¡± Syra spoke with a sour expression.
¡°Yes, that gaggle of Heroes that have been following you since the Orc War are quite enamored with you. I''m sure you would make a fine leader, heck, you already taught a few classes on Void magic, that makes you half a leader already!¡± Varrus encouraged.
¡°Ugh, don''t remind me. I just want to hold onto you forever, and raise 12 children, is that too much to ask for?¡± Syra looked directly into Varrus''s eyes.
¡®Yes!¡¯ Varrus internally screamed, yet the smile never left his face.
He briefly canceled his polymorph spell, and leaned in for a kiss.
¡®When words fail to communicate, the body finds a way!¡¯ Varrus thought to himself as he closed his eyes, and pressed his lips to hers.
¡°You are my anchor, I like to joke around a lot, but I really do appreciate you. I think I''d go crazy if I had to fight alone. And you don''t give yourself enough credit. I think you really could be a good leader.¡± Varrus smiled.
¡°Thanks.¡± Syra said in a quiet tone, blushed and looked away.
¡®Ah, what a woman!¡¯ Varrus admired her for a moment longer.
Taking a deep breath of her scent once more, Varrus tossed up his Human disguise, and turned to look out the window.
The scenery reminded him of Victorian London, only it was a little darker. Figuratively speaking that is. Instead of London, perhaps it would be better to liken the architecture in Gilneas City to that of Bloodborne.
Fog was ever pervasive, buildings were sharp with angular features, and hauntingly dim lamp posts dotted the streets.
Currently, they were in the district meant for the well to do, and upper crust of society, the Greymane Quarter.
The buildings here were massive manses, and sprawling estates. We''ll kept lawns, and strong iron gates dotted the landscape.
Few people roamed the streets in this part of the city, as everyone was working indoors.
What people they did pass by were little more than black silhouettes. Even with his enhanced vision, the people of this city came off as odd.
They were-on average-gaunt, pale, and exceptionally thin. It was a little creepy riding in this fog, and had Varrus''s imagination running wild.
While he knew he was in no danger, that didn''t mean he would discount his instincts.
In fact, Varrus noticed the only sound was the whinny of his horse, and the wheels of his carriage. There were no other wagons, carriages, or pedestrians around them for the last ten minutes.
Varrus palmed the rune pistol he had filched from Lorna, and held it at the ready.
Syra had her hand within a mageweave bag, also prepared to pull out her massive buster sword.
A moment later, the howl of a wolf resounded in the thick fog, and a thump fell upon the top of their carriage.
The crack of a flintlock pistol rang in the air as one of the Crossguard-who was sitting besides Rhodan-unloaded.
¡°Ai!¡± The bark of a dogs yelp entered Varrus''s ears.
Seconds later, a big white werewolf-looking body fell to the roadside.
¡°Hrma hrn!¡± The horse neighed, and began to run out of control.
Several more thumps fell onto the carriage, and the door was ripped open, revealing a slobbering Worgen.
Varrus pushed his pistol into its jaws, and blew the monster''s brains out. He then kicked it out, and slammed the doors shut.
¡°Rho''dan, status report!¡± Varrus yelled, and stuck his head out the window.
He was met with a clawed hand, but thanks to his enhanced stats, and Elven constitution, he outsped the claw, and ducked back.
Retaliating with two shots, Varrus hit the creature''s jaw, and chest, bringing it to its knees. Remarkably, it was still alive!
Judging it based upon speed, and the ability to move despite the damage sustained, Varrus figured this Worgen was at least as tough as glass armor! Get him a potion, or a priest, and he would be good to go!
If this was what the Worgen transformation could bring to the table, then Varrus could see the benefit of incorporating it into the Covenant.
¡°We seem to be surrounded.¡± Rho''dan calmly replied from the front of the carriage.
One hand held the reins, whilst another held onto a blood soaked blade.
Varrus glanced in front of them, and saw that his guard was right. Thanks to his Mana Sight racial trait, and Detect Life spell, he confirmed Rho''dan''s assessment. There were about a hundred of these beasts on the streets and alleyways in front of them, and a few dozen on the rooftops. Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.
As the carriage wasn''t a car, making a u-turn wasn''t feasible given their current circumstances.
¡°Then we go through them!¡± Varrus climbed out the window, and planted himself on top of the carriage.
Syra followed after him, and had drawn her buster sword.
Aiming the pistol, Varrus noticed his vision had enhanced, it seemed that the Archery perk tree applied to firearms as well!
¡°Then we ride!¡± Rho''dan whipped the reins, and the horse plowed forward.
Varrus emptied his remaining bullets, then bolstered his pistol in favor of casting spells.
He didn''t want to destroy the city or any buildings, so he went for something simple.
He chose: Mayhem.
Once the red light of the Illusion spell fell upon the Worgen waiting for them up front, they went into a frenzied chaos.
All 100 of them began to rip and tear at each other''s throats, and cannibalize one another.
The Worgen prowling on the rooftops weren''t caught up in this sinister magic, and despite witnessing their compatriots'' fates, still decided to make the leap.
Every time a Worgen jumped down at their carriage, Syra would swing her sword, and the world would be short of one flea bitten mongrel.
Her speed and efficiency made short work of any remaining werewolf wannabes.
The cobblestone ground was slick with a fresh paint of blood, and furry pelts, yet no guards or soldiers had come due to the commotion.
As they advanced, Varrus realized that what they had fought was but a scouting force, or a group meant to secure the flanks.
Up ahead, a large wolf-man was howling in glee alongside 4-700 other Worgen. They were surrounding a battered carriage, and dozens of Gilnean soldiers lay dead.
About 30 men at best were left standing, their halberds, swords, and rifles were stabbing and shooting every second, but it was clear to Varrus that they were soon to be overrun.
Dueling the large wolf-man was a lithe, raven haired young woman. Dressed in riding leathers that made one think of a Napoleonic era cavalry officer, she made for a striking figure.
Her sword flashed with a silvery glow, and her movements placed her at the height of an Elite''s skill level. She was fluid, yet strong. Bendable, yet decisive.
Varrus could see that with the proper guidance, this young woman could very well become a Hero.
However, the massed Worgen seemed intent on slaying this lady of noble birth.
Ordinarily, Varrus didn''t like getting involved in conflicts such as this. Just because the Worgen were ugly, and the woman was beautiful was not enough of a reason for him.
However, he had been indiscriminately attacked, and that, he could not abide.
Besides, the way that she moved with the darkness of the fog was quite skillful. In fact, with his Mana Sight, he detected an abnormal amount of Void mana within her system.
This must be the Princess he had intended to meet!
¡°Keep going forward, we will not stop until the street is slick with Worgen blood!¡± Varrus commanded.
¡°Aye my Lord!¡± Rho''dan nodded, and continued to advance.
~~~~~~~~~~
Tess Greymane grimaced as she was forced to block a direct strike from the massive beast in front of her.
She flicked her blade, and cut at its hand, only to have the tip of her sword blocked by glowing, mana enhanced nails.
Tess felt indignation knowing that this was the way she would die.
She had spent the majority of her life locked in her room, her father called her a curse. Ever since her mother had died, he spent all his attention on the stupid wall, on her stupid brother, and on the stupid civil war. The one time she wanted to make herself useful, to show to her father that she wasn''t a pariah, or family stigma, she found herself besieged on all sides.
¡°Blasted bugger, fight me like a man, one on one!¡± Tess spat into the giant Worgen''s face, and gutted three more Worgen that tried to sneak up on her in one fluid motion.
¡°Hargh hargh, none of that noble sentiment now luv.¡± The massive Worgen laughed, and casually killed another one of her soldiers.
The guard screamed as the Worgen slowly bit into his chest.
Tess was grim faced as she watched one of the soldiers she would sneak out and play pranks on collapse into a pile of stinking corpses.
The many circling Worgen whooped and hollered at the kill, and scrambled for a bite to eat.
Their cheers and shouts of joy sickened Tess to no end. She knew the people had it bad ever since the Scourge attacked. Many of them turned from the Light, and joined the Wolf Cult to find safety. But to eat your fellow man?
Such a sight made Tess queasy, but more so, it made her mad.
While her awful father was busy organizing hunts in the Blackwald, the Wolf Cult was organizing itself, and terrorizing the populace right beneath his seat of governance!
The arrogant old man had forgotten his people, just like he had forgotten her!
¡°All alone now, Princess. Come with us, the Alpha will make you his Queen.¡± The large Worgen beckoned with a grin, and a crook of one clawed finger.
Seeing the death of her longtime servants, friends and confidants sent something off in Tess.
These were her only friends. What children of nobles, peasants, craftsmen, and any else she had managed to find throughout the years had all come together to help her in her investigation. To rid their beloved Gilneas of this foul threat.
Yet here they were.
Dead!
All at her invitation!
She couldn''t handle the loss, she couldn''t handle the smug mockery. She hated her father, but she hated herself even more.
Tess had had.
¡°Enough!¡± The young scion of Greynane roared.
Purple splotches of energy twisted in the air, and colored her skin with a toxic tint. Her silver blade took on a sinister hue, and the fog stood still.
The laughter halted, and not a peep was made.
¡°Greymane''s Curse.¡± A whisper seemed to resound amongst the pack, and stilled fog air.
¡°Just a legend and tricks! The Greymane''s tell this story to put fear in our hearts, to make themselves feel special and above the common folk!¡± The large Worgen snarled at his compatriots, yet he also slowly backed away, and pushed a few awestruck Worgen in front of him.
Tess began to lose all reason. All she knew was she wanted these bastards dead!
Lunging forward, Tess moved faster than she ever had, and diced through a dozen Worgen as she tried to kill the pack leader.
¡°Get her!¡± The pack leader snarled.
As one, the quivering hundreds of wolf-men listened to their orders, and began to suicidally run at her.
Tess ducked under claws, and moved with the darkness like it was an old friend. It helped guide her step, and foresaw an enemy¡¯s move a second ahead of time.
Within less than ten minutes, Tess had slaughtered a couple hundred Worgen, yet she felt energy leaving her system.
A lull in the battle had developed, and she stood still, barely supporting herself with her sword.
Her eyes dared them to step forward, but the mound of wolf flesh discouraged any from stepping forward.
Tess¡¯s bones ached, and her veins felt like they had poison in them, yet she stood her ground.
She defiantly stared down the pack leader, and let a grin take hold of her face.
¡°What''s wrong, your balls drop too late? Oh wait, a dog like you probably got snipped. With an ugly mug like yours, I can''t imagine your Alpha wants you breeding the next generation.¡± Tess endlessly taunted.
If she was going down, she wanted them to finish it quickly. It was better to die here, than to be taken as some prize for an even bigger wolf.
¡°You. You bitch!¡± The pack master snarled, and ran at her on all fours.
¡®This is it. I only wish the old bastard would have acknowledged me once.¡¯ Tess felt her heart relax as she accepted her fate.
However, she was forced to blink her eyes as a silver blur interposed itself in-between her and the pack master.
¡°Another bitch for the Alpha!¡± The pack master crowed.
Tess wanted to warn this newcomer, and held out her hand to say something, that she wasn''t worth saving, that she was only a curse that had gotten all of her friends killed.
But whatever warning she had prepared on her lips was silenced as the pack master was sliced into two halves.
Tess gulped, and noticed a faint purple aura covering this blonde woman.
Her relaxed heart became excited as she realized she wasn''t alone!
Was this some distant cousin who had come to the rescue?!
Her shock didn''t end there, as the mystery woman was joined by three others.
They made short work of the remaining Worgen, and absolutely slaughtered them down to the mast soul!
Tess gulped. The lady was just as strong as her father! There were a few dozen Heroes in all of Gilneas, but none could match her father.
Until now.
¡°Wh-who are you?¡± Tess reached out her hand, only to stumble and fall onto the ground as the pain of channeling the Void came back with a vengeance.
¡°Us? We''re the Vanhooks.¡± The young man stepped forward, and offered her a potion.
Taking a sip, Tess felt herself feeling better immediately.
¡°I meant her! We must be related, because I''ve never seen anyone use the Void like that before! Anyone else who tries goes mad!¡± Tess wiped her lips, and slightly bowed at the blonde lady.
¡°Pretty rude and foul speaking for a Princess. But hey, looks like you have a new fangirl, eh, Sarah, eh?¡± The man muttered, then cheerfully elbowed the beautiful woman in the side.
¡®Sarah, so that''s the name of my savior!¡¯ Tess clenched her fists as she looked at the beautiful blonde with a look of anticipation, and ignored the rest of the rude monkey boy''s words.
The throb in her heart was telling her that this was the one. This young, but slightly older girl than her would be the one to free her from this curse!
~~~~~~~~~~~~
AN: Wouldn''t be a date with these 2 unless some jerk was trying to kill them, lol.
Chapter 113
After the Worgen had been eliminated, Tess had lit a fire, and burned the shredded remains of her comrades.
The beasts had been so thorough in their carnage, none of the corpses were worth burying.
Tess looked to be on the verge of breaking down, but at the same time, Syra''s very presence seemed to be like a beacon of light. Like a drowning man about to die, Tess seemed like she would grasp onto anything that would prevent her from drowning into the depths of despair.
Varrus nudged Syra in the side.
¡°You should take her under your wing, it will be good for us. Both politically, and as a learning experience.¡± Varrus whispered in Thalassian.
¡°...¡± Syra silently stared at Varrus, and pouted, expressing her disinfection by inflating her cheeks, and narrowing her eyes.
¡°Look, I know you don''t like teaching, or being subject to ¡®fangirl¡¯ behavior, but you''d be doing me a real favor if we took this girl in. If nothing else, think of it as practice for when we have children of our own. Moody teenagers aren''t exclusive to Humans, and among 12 children, you know at least one of them is going to be moody!¡± Varrus brushed her shoulder, and looked her in the eye.
¡°Are you guys talking in Thalassian? Do you mind if I join in?¡± Tess fidgeted from the side, and spoke the Elven language with a heavy accent.
¡°See? Just like a teenager would act. Except for Elves, our ¡®teenage years¡¯ can last decades. Better to get some practice in now while we can, right?¡± Varrus coaxed once more, then turned to the raven haired Princess. ¡°Yes, we are related to the Elves of Quel''Thalas, does this bother you?¡± Varrus smiled.
If this was to be his ¡®Plan B¡¯ then it would be wise for him to see where she stood on his people.
¡°Problem? There''s no problem, I wish I lived there! I always dreamed I''d visit Silvermoon, to witness the bright colored architecture, to walk among floating buildings! All I ever knew was this city. Dull, gray, shadowed buildings, endless fog, and the dark confines of my room. A Greymane has never been to Silvermoon¡¡± Tess looked out to the sea of fog in melancholy.
¡®Good lord, she is like a weeb, but for Elves!¡¯ Varrus almost burst out in laughter, only containing himself, because to do so now would be highly inappropriate.
He then turned to Syra, and wriggled his eyebrows as if to say ¡®see? Isn''t she a precocious young lady?¡¯
Syra slumped her shoulders, and subtly nodded.
¡°You owe me.¡± Syra spoke so softly, Varrus barely heard her.
However, if the snickering of his guardsman was anything to go by, it wasn''t quiet enough.
Shooting the man standing besides Rho''dan a death glare, Varrus turned to Tess, and gave her an over exaggerated bow.
¡°Well, it just so happens, Princess, I and my lovely wife are most welcome within Quel''Thalas. It would be our pleasure to escort you there once all this dreadful civil war nonsense has come to a close.¡± Varrus raised his hat, and smiled grandly.
¡°My father would never allow it.¡± Tess shook her head.
¡°Well, we''ll see if he can''t be convinced. In the meantime, perhaps you can talk to my wife about the Void within our carriage. I''m sure you have much to share.¡± Varrus shoved an unwilling Syra forward.
Tess''s face seemed to glow, and Syra glared back at him. To Varrus, Syra was like a cute kitten that had been denied its treat.
Closing the door to the carriage, Varrus took up a seat besides Rho''dan.
¡°I assume you researched where Godfrey is? Let''s go!¡± Varrus enthusiastically slapped his chief guard on the back.
Rho''dan whipped the reins of the horse, and they were off.
After a few quiet moments in which each man enjoyed the morning''s peace, that quiet was broken by the sound of magic taking place down below. This sound was accompanied by some bright purple lights, many ¡°I''m sorry, I''m sorry, I''m sorry''s¡± and a few giggles?
Varrus meanwhile, ignored the girl bonding exercise, and pulled out a guitar from his inventory. Thanks to his Speech skill and the Performer perk, he had become a natural talent.
Rho''dan glanced at him with a scandalized look. His stoicism, apparently, could only go so far.
Varrus gave Rho''dan a knowing smirk, pleased that he had finally managed to break his composure, if only for a minute.
¡°Is this wise, Highlord?¡± Rho''dan questioned with a raised eyebrow, and a heavy dose of skepticism coloring his voice.
¡°What? Syra and Tess alone in one place? It''s not like the Princess is into me or anything, it''ll be fine.¡± Varrus waved off Rho''dan''s concerns, then took a couple strums of his instrument, and began to play a song.
¡°Forgive my candor, but I''m beginning to worry that you aren''t taking things seriously. I understand that you are in search of allies, but this all reeks of opportunism. There is none of the careful planning I am accustomed to with your father. This method of operating is so new to me, it makes me-I am ashamed to say-it makes me feel uncomfortable.¡± Rho''dan said with a serious tone.
Varrus sighed when he saw the naked concern in Rho''dan''s expression. This conversation felt like he had a relative worried that he was walking the wrong path in life.
It was, all things considered, refreshing.
Smiling at the man who was almost like an uncle to him, Varrus strummed along as he collected his thoughts.
It wasn''t like he could tell Rho''dan that he was aware of the future, right? Because while Varrus knew about many things, so many events were different or had butterflied away.
For one, Varrus knew next to nothing about the Convocation other than they were the former ruling body of Quel''Thalas before the Scourge attacked. His knowledge of Canon did not not prepare him for the insane boss battle against Old Man Vandercross.
But the foreknowledge did help him convince Kael not to leave Quel''Thalas early. The info helped him make an informed decision, such as the knowledge that the Dreadlords ravaging Lordaeron were arrogant, conceited, and would never march north.
It was because of this knowledge that he knew he had a grace period in which he could build up his forces, and take the enemy by surprise.
From Rho''dan''s perspective, this move to Gilneas must seem like it was coming from left field. But to Varrus, he wanted to capitalize on the civil war, and come out on top.
His foreknowledge told him about this event, and the central characters, but little else other than that it happened.
So Rho''dan was right to worry that Varrus was acting like an opportunist. Varrus knew that he couldn''t count on Genn Greymane or Darius Crowley to lead a pro-Covenant government.
But of the 3 leaders he had in mind that would be accepted by the peasants and gentry of Gilneas, he didn''t really know anything about them beyond their names and a very basic description. Foreknowledge only went so far!
After mulling over his response, Varrus decided not to tell Rho''dan that he knew certain events about the future. However, that didn''t mean he would lie to him either.
¡°I appreciate you looking out for me, but you could say I am shopping around. I know what I want: Gilneas subservient to Quel''Thalas. I know how to get it: assassination & smooth talking. But I don''t know who I want to lead it.¡± Varrus splayed his hands in a ¡®what can you do¡¯ expression.
¡°Hmm. If you say so, Highlord. I know you like to keep things close to your chest, what with keeping your magical talent a secret all these years. I trust you, but I felt it was my duty to express my concerns.¡± Rho''dan spoke in a serious manner. If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.
Rho''dan''s eyes never once left the road whilst he directed the horse-drawn carriage, and his hand remained steady throughout the discussion.
Varrus admired this man''s professionalism. If only he had had a Rho''dan back on Earth.
Clucking his tongue, Varrus greeted Rho''dan''s serious persona with a light chuckle.
¡°Again, I appreciate the concern. Now, how close are we to catching up to Godfrey? It feels like we''ve traveled almost an hour in this blasted fog, and the wife must be getting a little you know.¡± Varrus complained at the long wait, then pointed down at the suspiciously silent carriage.
¡°Oh, it''s only been about 10 to 15 minutes I''d say, and as for our destination, you''ll know it when we see it.¡± Rho''dan said with a straight face.
Varrus blinked his eyes. He felt like he was being bullshitted.
Opening his mouth, Varrus was about to question his chief guard, but the muscular redhead beat him to it.
¡°No, I am not as you put it ¡®bullshitting¡¯ you. Really, whichever crass Human inspired such foul language in you deserves a whipping.¡± Rho''dan tightened his grip on the reins, and leaked a little bloodlust.
¡°Now I know you''re bullshitting me! Know when I''ll see it. C''mon Rho''dan, you''ll have to do better than thaa-¡± Varrus playfully punched Rho''dan on the shoulder, only to stop mid sentence when he saw an absolutely gargantuan monument.
¡°As you say, sir.¡± Rho''dan tipped his hat at Varrus, and kept the ride going.
¡°Wait till the men hear about this!¡± The one other guard present on the carriage muttered with a shocked grin.
Varrus wanted to shoot him another death glare, but was too preoccupied with the monolithic, grim dark cathedral that had emerged from the fog.
It was no exaggeration to say that this temple was as tall as a skyscraper, and miles long.
The fact that it was built without modern machinery was mind boggling. Gilneas''s devotion to religion must be something else, because this building absolutely dominated the landscape.
¡°Light''s Dawn Cathedral, the largest temple dedicated to the Light in the Eastern Kingdoms. If you''ll recall the city map, it acts as the gathering point for all of Gilneas City''s districts.¡± Rho''dan spoke up from the side, and gestured towards the wide open square.
Looking around, Varrus saw that the fog was clearing, and that the amount of open space was huge. Previously, the roads had been tight, and the buildings were clustered close to one another like any typical urban city.
However, there were miles worth of open land surrounding the cathedral.
On the route leading up to the church''s main entrance, tens of thousands of parishioners were steadily making their way inside for service. Glancing at them with Mana Sight, Varrus noticed several members of the clergy had a different mana signature than the average Human. Theirs was tainted with a wild green, like that of the Worgen.
How curious.
¡°Godfrey is inside. Shall we idle out here, and wait for him to emerge, or would you and the Lady rather find him yourselves?¡± Rho''dan calmly asked.
¡°I''m rather curious as to what goes on in such a large structure.¡± Varrus said, intending to investigate this potential Worgen plot. He then nodded at Rho''dan, and dropped down to open the carriage door.
Once open, Varrus was met with a scandalizing scene. Both women had taken their shirts off, and Syra was demonstrating a meditation technique that involved breathing in a specific pattern.
His wife sharply inhaled at the sudden intrusion, and Tess shot him a purple eyed glare.
Instead of backing down, and acting like a spineless husband, Varrus used Syra''s own logic against her.
¡°Should I be worried about anything?¡± Varrus dangerously growled.
¡°Control the power, do not let the power control you. The Void is a tool, do not become its tool.¡± Syra cuffed Tess over the head, and reprimanded her.
The Princess lost the glow in her eyes, and she lowered her head to Syra''s stern demeanor.
¡°You could have knocked, this cold is unbearable.¡± Syra pouted, and dressed up.
¡°I see you have everything in order, I knew you had the makings of a good teacher.¡± Varrus grinned, and pulled her close.
From his position, Varrus saw a jealous look on Tess''s face, but it only made his grin widen.
He decided he would test the Princess one more time.
¡°Come along then, Godfrey is nearby.¡± Varrus took Syra''s hand, and led them towards the cathedral.
¡°Godfrey? What business do you have with that cretin?¡± Tess hotly demanded as she followed close behind.
¡°Hm? I take it you''re not a fan of your father''s right hand man?¡± Varrus said with a hint of dismissal.
This only seemed to cause the young lady to bristle and grow hot under the collar.
¡°Godfrey is self serving slime. It was his idea to place the wall where it is, and his sleights that caused the civil war!...plus, he is the one who enforces my house arrest. I hate Godfrey.¡± Tess seethed.
¡°Remarkable. Well, it just so happens we aren''t fans of his either. Say, Syra, do you think she knows enough to enter stealth?¡± Varrus put a fist under his chin, and asked in an exaggerated manner.
Syra rolled her eyes, then glanced at Tess critically.
¡°I can do it, big sister has taught me a lot!¡± Tess eagerly pounced forward for a hug, but was held back by one of Syra''s hands.
¡°...she is serviceable.¡± Syra eventually said after some deliberation.
¡°Very good.¡± Varrus smiled at Syra, then turned to Tess. ¡°My guard has been tracking the Worgen, and that sanctimonious boot licker since last night, and they have led us here. Would you care to join us in ousting a traitor?¡± Varrus sinisterly smiled as the workings of a plan began to form in his mind.
¡°You think there is a connection between the two?¡± Tess gripped the handle to her sword in response.
¡°I have no proof, but with a Princess conducting the investigation, hopefully we can come to the bottom of this.¡± Varrus inclined his head.
¡°What are we waiting for?¡± Tess eagerly took the lead, and marched towards the cathedral''s entrance.
¡°Ah, you will make a wonderful father.¡± Syra held onto Varrus''s arm lovingly.
¡°And you, a beautiful mother. Do not worry my love, we will have children someday, I promise it.¡± Varrus squeezed her hand.
He knew how important this was to her, and she had been so accommodating with his nonsense.
Syra didn''t have many hopes, or dreams for the future, but living peacefully with a family full of children was something Varrus could get behind.
Clinging onto her tightly, Varrus crossed the threshold, and felt a burst of warmth sufuse him once he entered the church.
The first thing he noticed was the smell of candles and cinnamon permeating the air.
Tall ceilings with countless mosaics were everywhere, and the images of Heroes battling evil were depicted in tapestry.
Low, melodic chants reverberated alongside the hauntingly beautiful tune of an organ.
Dim light shone upon their forms, and Varrus almost lost sight of Tess from within the sea of people.
Gilneas City was home to hundreds of thousands, or perhaps over a million people. It was a megalopolis in the truest sense.
This level of density reminded Varrus of Tokyo, it was that intense.
As he walked along the halls, he was funneled by the crowd into a central foyer. Within, countless benches were lined up in a 360 circle, and row upon row of seats were raised up, like bleachers at a sports arena.
There were easily 30,000-50,000 people seated at this venue.
In the center was a stage. At the moment, a classical orchestra was busy playing a song, and the people in the audience were mingling with one another.
The scene felt surreal to Varrus. This place constructed with medieval tech put every mega church on Earth to shame!
¡°Come on, this way!¡± Tess shouted to be heard over the crowd.
Varrus and Syra followed after the teen, and found themselves in a side hall.
¡°I haven''t been here since I was a little girl, but I remember Liam and I used to sneak around. There should be a-aha!¡± Tess was fumbling around in a corner, and pulled a candlestick on the wall.
A moment later, a creak in the wall was revealed, and a passage opened up.
A sinister air escaped the passage, accompanied by a sinister cold fog that eliminated almost all vision.
Goosebumps formed on Varrus''s arms, and he almost shot a spell into the dark by reflex.
His heartbeat unconsciously increased, and an unknown tension filled the room.
The last time he had been in a temple, a powerful shadow creature had tried to murder him.
Now that he was about to explore the depths of another temple, his gamer sense was going on hyperdrive, warning him that something was off.
Before, he hadn''t taken the Worgen threat all that seriously, as while they were strong, they were nothing when he, Syra, and Rho''dan teamed up. This was supposed to be an easy murder assassination of Godfrey, a mission to make his wife happy, and eliminate a thorn in his side.
How quickly things had spiraled out of control.
He knew that a massive gothic church rivaling something straight out of Dark Souls wouldn''t be so simple.
¡°Be careful, this won''t be as simple as I had anticipated. It is different from that temple, but somewhat familiar.¡± Varrus warned Syra in a serious tone of voice.
Syra squeezed his hand, then let go. Her jovial mood pulled back, and she had locked in.
There was the lovable murder machine he had come to rely on!
¡°Good girl.¡± Varrus flashed a thumbs up, then took a deep breath.
Taking a glance into the dark, bone chillingly cold corridor, Varrus gathered his courage and stepped forward.
Once more into the breach.
Chapter 114
Travelling through fog filled passageways, Varrus and Syra followed Tess, eventually coming across a pair of paladins standing guard in front of a wrought iron gate.
¡°Halt!¡± One of the guards commanded.
The other drew his weapon, and pointed it at them with the intent to harm.
Tess looked back at Varrus and Syra, seemingly searching for guidance on the matter.
Varrus understood that she had been locked up most of her life, and just lost many of her companions, but she was still the daughter of the King. She should show some confidence!
Stepping forward, Varrus spoke down to the guards, and projected his voice with all his various perks and skills.
¡°Stand aside or be slain as traitors. You stand in the presence of Her Majesty, Princess Tess Greymane!¡±
The pair of paladins faltered, and recoiled in shock from the magnetic-almost magical-voice Varrus had commanded them with.
¡°We shouldn''t.¡± One guard muttered.
¡°But we must.¡± The other finished, and turned to unlock the gate.
¡°How did you do that? A spell of some sort?¡± Tess rapidly blinked her eyes, her mouth agape in surprise.
¡°My husband is the greatest man to walk all of Azeroth.¡± Syra patiently explained as if she was schooling a five year old.
¡°Big sister?¡±
¡°Know your place, and should any of you speak of this, I will know, and I shall come for you.¡± Varrus paused in his stride, and glanced at the pair of guards, causing them to gulp, and fervently nod their heads.
¡°Good, come along then, Your Majesty, we have a traitor to capture.¡± Varrus spoke loudly, and glanced meaningfully at the guards one last time before he resumed their trek.
¡°I didn''t know you were so charismatic, b-big brother.¡± Tess spoke in embarrassment, and hid her blushing face behind Syra.
¡°Heh, as long as you only see us as older siblings, then there is no harm. I forgive you for your earlier rude behavior.¡± Varrus smirked, and winked at Syra.
¡°Rude behavior?!¡±
¡°It''s okay, you''re just a little girl, you have time to learn.¡± Varrus chuckled, and kept moving forward, his eyes scanned every nook and cranny on the lookout for threats.
Detect Life and Mana Sight were activated too, in preparation for an upcoming conflict.
Tess was going to say something more in protest, when Syra put her hand over the teen girl''s mouth.
The sound of armored boots marching upon cobblestone echoed in the halls coming from behind.
Varrus pointed at the ceiling, and both he and Syra climbed up a nearby pillar, and entered stealth.
It wasn''t a moment too soon, as over a thousand Gilnean troops appeared, and were grimly moving forward with purpose.
At the very back of the column, Godfrey, along with a Heroic priest, mage, and paladin were following, and discussing something loudly.
¡°The guards were awfully suspicious, abbot, are you certain they are not compromised?¡± Godfrey asked in a friendly-yet threatening-tone of voice.
¡°It was difficult enough to gather this many men without alerting the heretics that have infiltrated our ranks. Do not bring paranoia and unfounded claims into the expedition now, lest we turn on one another in fear and suspicion!¡± A man dressed in cream robes replied.
¡°Gentleman, please. We are gathered here today to slay the Wolf Cult once and for all. Their leader, Alpha Prime has desecrated our most sacred land, and made his lair beneath our temple! We brothers and sisters under the Light cannot remain divided on this issue.¡± The Heroic paladin raised his hands in calm.
¡°Hmph, I am faithful, but that doesn''t mean I am blindly so! I can see the miracle of the Light with mine own two eyes, and these same senses can spot someone with something to hide.¡± Godfrey continued, unwilling to back down.
¡°Then let us dispatch a pair of brothers to hold the guards under arrest. Once this holy mission is finished, then we shall interrogate them, and learn the truth.¡± The abbot said in compromise.
¡°I second such a notion.¡± The paladin was quick to agree.
¡°Bah, you are too soft, abbot, it is such leadership that saw the Wolf Cult penetrate your ranks in the first place.¡± Godfrey said.
Varrus wanted to keep eavesdropping, but the group had made their way out of his hearing range.
When he saw a squad of warriors running back to carry out the order to detain and question the gate guards, Varrus cast Paralyze on all of them. The warriors stood no chance, and all fell to the ground one after another.
He then dropped down from his perch, and slowly followed after the column of soldiers.
While he didn''t fear them, remaining hidden had been the right call. Fighting four versus two, Varrus was confident he could win, but the army might contain Elites, and using big magic in such a narrow underground location was just asking for a cave in.
Plus, he had learned a lot from their conversation.
¡°Godfrey is going to get the credit for killing the Worgen leader? Bleh, with this achievement, maybe my father would really marry me off to that creepy old man.¡± Tess shivered in place. This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.
¡°You are betrothed to that guy?¡± Varrus raised his eyebrows in surprise. He knew that beneath the veneer of adventure, Warcraft was a backwards medieval fantasy, but Tess couldn''t be older than 16.
¡°No, but he has been asking my father for my hand in marriage since I was first capable of bearing heirs.¡±
¡°Unacceptable.¡± Syra muttered from the side, a murderous glint in her eye.
¡°My love?¡± Varrus questioned.
¡°To play with love like that is a sick joke. You and I complete one another, but this girl? She does not deserve this. That Godfrey character must die.¡± Syra stared towards the direction of the Gilnean army, and looked like she would run over to confront them any second.
¡°Woah-hoh, we can take care of business during the fight against the Worgen. Trust me, it will work out better for everyone involved if we exhibit a little patience.¡± Varrus tightly gripped onto his wife, and gave Tess a tip of the hat.
¡°Thank you so much. I know we met not too long ago, but I can''t thank you enough!¡± Tess wiped away some tears, and smiled weakly at them.
Varrus sighed as the raven-haired girl opened up to them. Part of him felt guilty for using such a young girl to further his political gains, but at the very least, he would be solving her problems, and help make her a stronger woman along the way.
¡°Right. Let''s go, we''ve spent enough time messing around, I think I can hear the sounds of combat in the distance.¡± Varrus spoke up, and directed the party to move deeper into the cathedral''s undercroft.
Whilst trailing behind the Gilnean army, Varrus noticed many empty alcoves, and scorched mausoleums.
Tess noticed Varrus''s curiosity, and offered an explanation.
¡°Once it was discovered that the Scourge could reanimate the dead, father went on a mass purge campaign. The remains of the Gilnean ancestors had been kept in this cathedral for generations. Now all there is, is ash. I didn''t leave the castle much, but I can tell that the Undead have had an effect on everyone. The people are quick to anger, father has become cruel, even my brother, Liam is distant.¡±
Varrus nodded his head, and remained silent. The sounds of combat, of men dying, and of Worgen''s howling grew closer and closer.
He was expecting an ambush, or sudden attack to drop down from the ceiling, yet nothing ever came of it.
After traveling for another 30 minutes, and going down several flights of stairs, the hallway ended, and opened up into a wide, forested cavern.
Many trees dotted the landscape, and the ceiling shone with a dim light akin to stars. It was weird to Varrus that there could be so many trees underground, but he chalked it up to typical fantasy bs.
Within the woods, many Gilnean soldiers and Worgen were engaged in mortal combat.
¡°Should we join the battle?¡± Tess asked, and drew her sword.
¡°Not yet, we must await the opportune time.¡± Varrus held up a hand.
Godfrey, and his three companions were engaged in a death defying 1v4 fight with a massive Worgen. It seemed like they were in a deadlock, and Varrus was waiting for when one side gained advantage over the other.
Once they were both weakened, then he would swoop in, and finish them both.
Meanwhile, he was more interested in exploring this strange and unique environment.
A calm river ran through the area, and Varrus saw a few statues of beast men lining the area. Curiously, they all seemed to be bowing towards some central figure. It was a statue of an enormous wolf eating the roots of a World Tree.
An inscription on the statue read ¡®Hunt or be hunted. Be yee predator or prey, all are equal beneath the Master of Beasts. Sacrifice a thousand lives to Nil''bog, servant to the Lord of the Hunt, and be rewarded.¡¯
¡°Interesting, if this is a temple dedicated to the Light, then how can so many ancient-looking statues be here? I suspect the cathedral was built over something.¡± Varrus rubbed his chin in thought.
On Earth, churches and mosques were often constructed atop pagan alters. Perhaps something similar had occurred here?
¡°An interesting theory, and likely true. The Sunwell was built over a Troll holy sight too.¡± Syra said, supplying supporting evidence.
¡°Hmm, perhaps the Worgen have a closer connection to this land than I first thought.¡± Varrus muttered to himself.
In a fantasy setting, what other reason would there be to build a temple on top of something than to seal it?
Eyes widening. Varrus felt like he was on the cusp of a wild revelation.
Looking up at the statue of Nil''bog, Varrus saw that it was shimmering with a strange light, and the concept of endless hunger, and the thrill of being chased emanated from the eyes of the wolf.
In fact, he noticed through his Mana Sight, a heavy dose of energy was pooling into the statue after every death that occurred in this massive cavernous chamber.
It didn''t matter if it was a Worgen or a Gilnean, a death was a death, and it was fueling some dark ritual!
Acting on instinct, Varrus blasted the statue with a spell, but nothing happened.
Laughter spilled from the statue, and a voice echoed all around him.
¡°Interesting, young Elf, my master has been most interested in your progress. He and his kin have several wagers about you and your wife.¡± A voice came from the statue, yet its mouth did not move.
¡°And what master is that?¡± Varrus questioned. Was this some beast from the Emerald Dream, or perhaps a servant of the Void Lords, or Old Gods?
The Worgen lore was not very well explained, and was mostly a gimmick to include werewolves into World of Warcraft. The fact that there might be something older, more powerful behind them-he would be lying to himself if he said it wasn''t a cause for concern-but Varrus would face it head on like any other threat.
While he was mulling over the wolf''s words, Varrus had begun to slap down Fire Runes on the ground all around him, and began to cast Raise Wall over and over again.
He also tossed several environmental spells into the air, such as Frozen Orb.
¡°You will know his name should you survive this trial! Be prepared little wizard, your petty tricks are only worth so much!¡± The statue taunted once more.
¡°What''s going on? Wait, why is the statue calling you Elves?¡± Tess questioned in trepidation.
¡°We are going to slay a great beast.¡± Syra responded in joy. Her massive buster sword was drawn, and glowing with holy light.
¡°My love is right. Idiots like this love to monologue before a big fight, they think it makes them look big, powerful and ominous. That it will paralyze their opponents into inaction.¡± Varrus smirked as he began to lay down even more traps.
He was no DBZ fighter, he refused to wait around while his enemy transformed. Just because he couldn''t damage this statue, didn''t mean he couldn''t supply a welcoming party to the wolf''s resurrection!
¡°Ah! Just like those boring Vandercross plays my brother likes to watch!¡± Tess exclaimed.
¡°Boring.¡± Syra dangerously moved closer to Tess.
¡°Ah ha ha, yes just like those plays! So please stand back, and don''t get in our way. My lovely wife and I will be handling this!¡± Varrus finger flicked Tess away with an application of Telekinesis.
Syra glared at the Princess as she flew away.
¡°Forget about her, we have a monster to kill, and I wouldn''t do it with anyone else by my side.¡± Varrus winked at Syra.
¡°Ah, Varrus, you know just what to say to get a girl on your good side.¡± Syra smiled beautifully at him.
Varrus sighed in relief, then turned to the glowing statue. It was almost fully lit up now, and his gamer sense was telling him it would be free of its prison within moments.
¡°Let''s do this.¡±
Chapter 115
After slapping down another Fire Rune for the umpteenth time in preparation for this big boss fight, Varrus halted, and suddenly slapped his forehead.
¡®I''m a dumbass.¡¯ Varrus thought to himself.
What was it that he saw with his Mana Sight flowing into this statue from all around him?
Mana.
What tool did he have that could easily deal with such a thing?
Mana Stones.
¡°Pfft haha.¡± Varrus laughed at himself, and ran a hand through his hair.
He then switched his strategy, and began to drop out tons of Mana Stones, and actively began to siphon the energy headed towards the statue into his own coffers.
Not only that, but he cut a hole in one stone, and directly placed it over the statue, so that it wouI''d completely block out, and absorb the energy already accumulating inside the statue.
¡°What are you doing?! The Master does not approve of such trickery!¡± Nil''bog raged.
Varrus meanwhile had a great wide grin on his face.
For the first time in his life, he had stopped a summoning.
¡°Hah, fuck you and you master. All this talk of a hunt, and you were stopped by some shiny crystals. Ooo, so big, so scary~ Get outta here with that nonsense!¡± Varrus scoffed.
¡°What is this incredible magic?! It is sucking up every ounce of mana in the room, it, it feels so oppressive!¡± Tess shivered, and backed away from Varrus, and bumped into Syra.
¡°He is perfect.¡± Syra growled, and gazed at Varrus with a hungry look.
Varrus grinned as the light surrounding the statue began to dim. His efforts were beginning to pay off.
¡®Thanks Old Man Vandercross.¡¯ Varrus thought to himself and said a small prayer in his father''s name.
Mana Stone magic was simply some bs, with bs accessories, and Varrus was enjoying every moment of it!
There was nothing more satisfying than cheesing a boss fight. The entire time he was on Azeroth, some asshole was always cheating by juicing themselves up, or doing some ritual.
The Trolls summoned Ki''Thix, Rommath the Convocation, Lana''thel some weird blood thing, and now these Worgen some minor wolf deity thing.
It felt good to be one step ahead for once!
He couldn''t wait to summon the Sunwell back into existence. Then it would be his turn to pull off some big ritual.
One of the best perks of being in the Convocation, was that he was charged with guarding the Sunwell, and was one of a handful of individuals given unfettered access to that ungodly amount of energy.
Meaning that unlike when he first transmigrated and ¡®only¡¯ had unlimited mana, immortality, and stamina, he could use that font for practicing his spells, directing energy into enchantments, or anything magical!
Varrus couldn''t wait for the Rune Stones to finally be set up so that his nation would be masked from the Legion, the Old Gods, and any other nefarious forces. Once that happened, the return of the High Elves would shake this continent!
¡°Does your husband often look off into the distance with such a crazed look?¡± Tess whispered to Syra.
¡°Passion my dear. It is pure passion. When you meet a man one day with the passion, the desire to act upon something with all his being, then you will have known you found the one.¡± Syra spoke with an ever increasing, fervent desire, and passion of her own.
Varrus broke out of his stupor at the noise, and found a somewhat manic reflection of himself in the reflective crystalline surface of the Mana Stones.
Shaking his head, Varrus decided that this would be the opportune time to reveal himself to Tess that he was an Elf. Although they had been together for only a day, the girl had become dependent on Syra, and was in awe of his magic.
The statue had revealed a lot, and while Varrus could wave it off as a baseless accusation from an adversary trying to sow discord between friends, it would be mighty awkward should he reveal his race to Tess at some point down the line.
Besides, this ¡®Plan B¡¯ was looking more and more like ¡®Plan A¡¯ in Varrus''s eyes. Here was a girl who had lost it all, had a cold and distant father, and was perpetually confined to her room for having a unique bloodline. To top it off, she was already a fan of Elven culture.
Now was the best time to reveal his ¡®weakness/secret¡¯ and engender trust between them.
¡°Ahem, well, you might be curious as to what that statue had said, am I right?¡± Varrus coughed into his hand, and turned to the young raven haired teen.
¡°Is it true, are the two of you Elves?¡± Tess said, equal parts caution and excitement.
¡°Yes, and the reason we are in Gilneas is to put a stop to the Worgen menace. My real name is Varrus Vandercross, and this is my wife, Syra Vandercross.¡± Varrus explained, and then he dismissed the polymorph spell.
Revealing himself to be a regal blonde super model tier Elf, Varrus embraced Syra, and finally got a kiss from his lovely wife.
¡°I knew it!¡± Tess pointed a finger at them, and began to laugh giddily to herself.
¡°You''re that Varrus too! Gosh, every scrying orb sold to Gilneas over the last 20 years came with a rendition of your plays!¡± Tess held a hand over her mouth, and giggled.
¡°Twenty years.¡± Varrus felt his soul leave his body at that heart piercing verbal attack.
He had seen some of those plays, and man, the High Elves were right to criticize him. He was bad. Like C tier movie bad. And that stuff was circulated in every scrying orb sold to Gilneas? How much did he want to bet that that was the case for every scrying orb ever sold to the Humans?!
Varrus face palmed his forehead at the revelation.
¡°Twentry years is not enough, I won''t be satisfied until everyone has seen his plays, and recognizes my husband on sight.¡± Syra said with pride.
¡°Most Gilnean nobles know of him. His style was considered tacky at first, but if the High Elves thought it was important, than the nobles followed in their trend. Actually, when I was locked in my room, I didn''t have much to do, but watch your plays.¡± Tess hurriedly said with a blush on her face.
¡°Good, then you can be his number 3 fan, but don''t get any ideas. He''s mine.¡± Syra said dangerously, and roughly held onto Varrus as if he was a prized dog being fought over in a custody case between divorcees.
¡°Number 3?¡±
Varrus tuned out Tess and Syra as they began to discuss his stage performances, and bonded over girl stuff. It was nice to see his wife had made another friend, and heck, Tess had taken this reveal rather well.
He supposed he could thank daddy Vandercross one more time. The fact that those scrying orbs were spread around so much was probably a national scandal amongst the Highborn, as it was an extremely valuable commodity. Yet the old man had likely increased their sale just to see his son''s popularity and fame rise. If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
Man, that guy abused his power for his family, but it was really coming in clutch.
Varrus shook his head, and let out a hollow chuckle. Yeah, he would have to get used to being recognized by random Human nobles going forward. That was awkward, but at the same time, perhaps a boon?
Fame was a double edged sword, but if managed properly, he could leverage it to his advantage.
Sighing to himself, Varrus looked out into the underground forest and perked his ears.
It seemed that Godfrey and company were on the back foot, and that the leader of the Worgen, Alpha Prime, was on the verge of victory.
Varrus decided he would step in and put an end to this, when a new force of Gilneans marched their way into the cavern, causing him to pause, and reassess the situation.
¡°Tess, where are you? I heard you had snuck out, come to my side, or scream if you are here! Father is just a few minutes behind me, Tess, where are you?!¡± A handsome man dressed in plate armor ran into the caverns.
Behind him, a new contingent of soldiers had come along.
¡°Liam?¡± Tess stopped her conversation with Syra, and looked over in surprise.
¡°Royal blood! Yours will surely please the Huntmaster!¡± Alpha Prime howled in glee.
The Worgen that had been battling the Gilnean soldiers brought by Godfrey all stopped what they were doing, and charged at the Prince.
Varrus watched on, curious to see how the young man would fare. Liam Greymane had been his ¡®Plan A¡¯ in which Varrus was planning to facilitate peace between Greymane and Crowley with a marriage alliance. While he had settled on Tess at the moment, he was still interested to see how the Prince would perform.
¡°Liam no, you don''t know how to fight!¡± Tess screamed, and started to run towards the fight.
¡°Tess?!¡± Liam turned to his sister, only to have a pair of massive wolf jaws snap shut over his exposed head.
Blood and brain matter squirted in every direction, splattering the trees red.
¡°Eww.¡± Varrus recoiled at the nasty scene.
He had played witness to some truly vial acts, but the crunching of the Prince''s skull bones sent a shiver down Varrus''s spine.
¡®That''s why, if you don''t have magical protection, super hard skin, or god tier reflexes, you always wear a helmet! Bro thought because he was handsome he could go everywhere unprotected!¡¯ Varrus internally chastised to himself.
¡°Liam!¡± Tess screamed, and ran at Prime in an enhanced, Void state.
As for the wolf-man, his fur was starting to shimmer, and it took on a golden glow. The mana radiating off his body increased exponentially.
Varrus wanted to bang his head on a table. He had fallen into a classic smug Elf trap. If he had killed the damned Worgen when he first showed up, then this never would have happened. Looks like he would have to deal with a boss fight after all.
It just went to show that there was such a thing as too much plotting. Sometimes the simplest solution was the best.
¡°Could you give her a hand?¡± Varrus smiled at Syra.
¡°Remember, you owe me one.¡± Syra said, then dashed off at incredible speeds.
¡°Yeah yeah, 12 children and all that.¡± Varrus waved her off, then cast supporting spells on her, making her infinitely more dangerous. He then started to take out the Worgen on the side.
Meanwhile, Prime had engaged in battle with Tess, and was busy toying with her, when Syra showed up.
¡°Hmm, another beauty to my collection?¡± Prime licked his lips lasciviously, and shook his wide dog lips in excitement.
Syra didn''t give a damn what he had to say, and she cleaved down with her blade.
Prime''s nails glowed with golden mana, and met her blade.
The shriek produced by the impact was grating on everyone''s ears, yet the wolf-man smirked. Kicking out with one incredibly fast pawed foot, he aimed to hit Syra in the belly.
Syra sidestepped the crude, and easily telegraphed move, then stepped down with one heeled shoe. A spike of Holy Void was at the bottom of her shoe, and it crunched into Prime''s paw, then pinned it to the ground.
¡°You bitch! You think you have me pinned? But it''s you who are locked with me!¡± Prime snarled in rage as his claws gripped onto the buster sword. He then snapped his jaws open wide, and moved to bite down on Syra''s head.
¡°No! You took my big brother, you won''t take my big sister!¡± Tess yelled from the side, and brutally slashed into Prime''s flank.
Golden blood hissed and sizzled as the enchanted weapon dug deep into his flesh, yet Prime didn''t care. He would have his due!
Bringing his neck down, Prime''s spit and saliva began to dribble down atop the golden shield of energy that coated Syra''s form.
¡°You sure you want to do that, mate?¡± Varrus questioned from the side.
¡°Hargh?¡± Prime rumbled as he found his body was bound by some force.
The Hero tier Worgen was locked in place by Varrus''s Telekinesis spell!
¡°Hargh!¡± Prime exerted his mana, and was about to break free, however, Syra shoved her sword straight up, and into his waiting throat.
A piercing beam at the tip of the sword entered, and exited Prime''s brain in a manner of seconds, causing the furry menace to drop to the ground.
¡°I had him, you know.¡± Syra pouted.
¡°I know, I know, but I wouldn''t be your husband if I didn''t care about your safety. Better to stack the deck and secure your victory, than to sit on the sideline and cheer you on.¡± Varrus held up his hands as if he were a criminal being interrogated, yet the grin never left his face.
¡°You''re incorrigible.¡± Syra shook her head, as she couldn''t help but smile along with him.
¡°Guilty as charged.¡± Varrus winked, he then turned to decapitate Prime to make sure he was dead. After which, he removed a blanket from his inventory, and draped it over Tess''s shoulders.
¡°Snot fair. He was going to be a good King! He was going to change things!¡± Tess pounded the armored breastplate of Liam''s headless corpse in angered sorrow.
Varrus sighed. Unfortunately, what Tess said was wrong. Unless your kingdom had the strength to fight, it would be nothing more than a paper tiger.
Maybe this was the real reason Greymane had built a wall? To hide his failure as a parent, and protect his children from the horrors that lay beyond?
He couldn''t fault King Greymane for having such a selfish desire if that was the case, but damn was it a major disaster!
¡°What is going on here?! Tess, where is Liam?! Why are you in that cursed state? Who are these outsiders.¡± Genn Greymane roared as he made his way into the cavern.
The white haired old man was regal in his fury, every word of his resonated with royal command. Even the way he walked to the way he swung his shoulders showed that this was a man accustomed to being obeyed.
Each sentence of the King''s was laced with more venom than the last.
¡®Speak of the Devil.¡¯ Varrus chuckled to himself.
¡°Father, my friends and I-¡± Tess began, only to be interrupted.
¡°Traitors, Your Majesty! These Elves are spies sent to overturn Gilneas into a puppet state, and have conspired with your spawn to slay the Prince!¡± Godfrey-injured and bloody-rose from the woods, and levied an accusing finger at them.
¡°I cannot believe what I am hearing. Godfrey, is this true? Are there any other witnesses to this foul accusation?!¡± Greymane turned to the remaining Gilneans, and looked everyone in the eye.
No one directly met his gaze, but various murmurs seemed to support Godfrey''s claim.
¡°My own flesh and blood. If only your mother saw you now.¡± Greymane said in a defeated tone. Tears pooled down his cheeks as he took in Tess, and the motionless body of his son.
¡°Father, please!¡± Tess moved forward, only to be back handed to the ground by Greymane.
¡°I have no daughter.¡± Greymane looked down at her coldly.
¡°Shall I lock her up?¡± Godfrey approached Tess, and gripped her wrist with a tight grasp.
¡°No. This curse has plagued my family long enough, I''m putting an end to it once and for all.¡± Greymane said with shaded eyes.
Raising a pistol, he pointed it at Tess.
¡°Father, father, you do not mean it! You cannot believe his lies!¡± Tess struggled in Godfrey''s grasp in desperation.
At the same time, a few dozen Elites flanked by hundreds of regulars began to look at Varrus and Syra like a pack of hungry dogs that hadn''t eaten meat for over a decade.
When the hammer on his enchanted flintlock pistol dropped and was about to discharge its payload, Varrus stopped Syra from intervening as he saw something interesting.
The mana within Tess''s body was going crazy, yet unlike the previous few times, it was being contained. Furthermore, it was actively being controlled! Whatever lesson Syra had imparted on the girl was working miracles!
As the mana enhanced bullet left the barrel, Tess overturned Godfrey, and had him take the shot. In one fluid motion, she grasped her sword, then slit the old creep''s throat.
Varrus was quick to hide his smile. He may have lost Liam, but he had gained something much better.
¡°You have made a grave mistake. A very grave mistake indeed.¡± Greymane calmly drew a pair of enchanted swords.
¡°...¡± Tess remained silent as her Void-state was ever increasing, and powerful bursts of energy swirled all around her.
¡°She''s beautiful.¡± Syra quietly commented, like a mother proud of her child''s achievements.
¡°See? I knew you wouldn''t regret it. Who owes who now?¡± Varrus teased.
¡°Tsk.¡± Syra turned away from Varrus, unwilling to face him.
Grinning in victory, Varrus prepared to sling some spells.
He didn''t plan on ending Greymane this way, but by doing so down here, in this dank cavern full of Worgen corpses? Oh yeah, there wasn''t a better place to commit regicide!
Chapter 116
The Elite Royal Guards that accompanied the King advanced towards Varrus, Syra and Tess with purpose.
While facing so many Elites accompanied by a named Hero could be challenging, Varrus had a few things going for him.
For one, his position was rigged with countless Fire Runes that he had set up earlier, there were tons of stone walls, and the Mana Stones he had set up to stop the ritual were full, and brimming with energy.
Furthermore, while Genn Greymane had been busy showboating, Varrus had been in constant communication with Rho''dan.
Ever since he had entered the cavern, and realized that there was a big battle occuring, he had notified his stalwart guard to muster the forces of House Vandercross.
While Varrus was confident that he and Syra could emerge victorious in a 2v1 against Greymane, the hundreds of Elites were equivalent to 1-2 Heroes, so in reality, it was more like a 2v2 or 2v3. Not to mention, Greymane wasn''t your average Hero.
Varrus had realized ever since he had fought Zul''Jin, that the top leaders of a faction were much more powerful than the Heroes they led. Kind of like how in Quel''Thalas, Rho''dan, Telonicus, Tae''thelon, Koren, Thaladred, etc, they were all Hero tier, but they would lose to Lor''Themar, Syra, Kael, and himself rather handedly.
Greymane and Crowley were those types of men, and (besides Gilneas''s overwhelming numbers) were the only two true threats within this nation.
So whilst Varrus didn''t take someone like Godfrey very seriously, he respected King Greymane enough that he wouldn''t recklessly charge at him whilst surrounded by Elites.
[ETA 15 minutes] Rho''dan messaged.
[Be careful upon entry] Varrus replied.
Elites were dangerous if they surrounded you, but what Greymane didn''t know, was that Varrus was a one man army.
¡°Syra, come here, we''ll hold a position from the walls.¡± Varrus told his wife, then yoinked Tess towards him with an application of Telekinesis.
Greymane lunged at them, but all he saw was Varrus''s smirk as they Blinked away.
Appearing on a tall Raised Wall, Varrus began to pump out a torrent of magic at the soldiers.
He started with Mayhem, wanting to sit back and watch as the King''s men tore into one another''s throats, but the abbot that had been accompanying Godfrey arrived, and dispelled it.
¡°Your Elven tricks are worthless in these hallowed halls.¡± The abbot exclaimed.
Varrus eyed the very clearly occult lair he found himself in, and raised a brow.
The abbot bristled at Varrus''s mockery, and began to chant, the armor of the Gilnean Elites started to glisten with a golden glow.
At the same time, Varrus didn''t want to bring the roof down on his head, and went with the relatively tame Tumble Magnet.
Casting the Expert Alteration spell, Varrus slowed the enemy advance significantly. The enemy forces bumped and tripped into one another, then the first Gilnean fell into a Fire Rune.
The resulting explosion was like that of an artillery shell! Fire and flame rose up into the air, and with it, one severely injured man.
Varrus tsked, because when he used this spell against the Amani, they died instantly. That barrier from the Heroic priest kept the soldier alive long enough to be dragged back, and healed by priests. Meaning he would shortly be able to rejoin the fight.
¡°Gilneans, chaaarge!¡± One man dressed in finery raised his sword, and took up the vanguard.
¡°For Gilneas!¡± The accompanying soldiers roared in reply.
During their advance, the Elites began to shoot their guns at Varrus, and a few fireballs came his way. Unlike the Trolls, the Gilneans were smart enough to figure out that his Fire Runes exploded upon contact, and they began to hurt things like weapons, helmets, and shields at the Runes to trigger their explosion. Like this, they slowly advanced towards the first of five walls that separated Varrus from the army.
The constant barrage of bullets and spells were of no concern to Varrus, as he had a loveable murder machine standing beside him at all times.
Syra was on point defense, and blocked every bullet, or spell. Her sword moved in magnificent arcs, and the power of her Light energy disrupted anything magical.
¡°Good job.¡± Varrus praised. ¡°You noticed those rogues trying to flank us, right?¡± Varrus whispered in Thalassian.
¡°You want me to take care of them?¡± Syra enquired.
¡°No, no, watch this.¡± Varrus said in a boasting manner.
Meanwhile, a group of a dozen or so rogues were scaling the Mana Stones, and slowly crept towards Varrus and Syra¡¯s position.
¡°What is this crystal made of?¡± One rogue whispered in wonder.
All around them, the entire area was covered in blocks of shiny crystalline objects.
¡°Shut up rookie. Maintain operational security.¡± The leader of the rogues hissed.
¡°I don''t feel so good.¡± The first rogue muttered, then collapsed on top of a Mana Stone.
¡°I said shut up!¡± The leader turned back, only to see his entire squad had exited stealth, and were in a comatose-like state.
The leader began to feel labored, as if all the energy was being sucked out of him. This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.
¡°What. Is. This.¡± The leader muttered as he collapsed to his knees.
His heart slowed down, and he felt horror flood his system as he saw the rookie begin to wither, and turn to dust.
He then saw no more.
Back atop the Raised Wall, Varrus slightly bowed, like a performer before his adoring audience, while Syra gave him a resounding ovation.
¡°Thank you, you are too kind.¡± Varrus smiled at Syra, then noticed the gloomy atmosphere radiating off of Tess.
The Princess was sitting to the side, and she was understandably completely out of it. After all, her world had just shattered. Varrus cast Rally on her, so that she wouldn''t lose herself to misery. It was a shit thing that happened to her, but if Varrus was going to get Gilneas on his side, he needed her cooperation.
¡°I''m sorry to have dragged you both into this. If you didn''t rescue me from that Worgen, we never would have been in this situation.¡± Tess pulled herself together, and offered an quiet apology.
¡°Betrayal stings. I had to slay my own father too. It was not easy, but I was forced to do so, for the peace of the realm.¡± Varrus consoled.
¡°Really?¡± Tess looked up in disbelief.
¡°He was very brave. While training with you, I saw your conviction, I think you might just have a fraction of his bravery.¡± Syra smiled.
¡°Thanks for the compliment?¡± Tess said with a befuddled expression.
¡°So what do you want to do next? We''re trapped in this cavern, and there is only one way out. If I Blink, I can get us out of here, but if we do that, we''ll constantly be on the run. Whatever your decision, I''ll honor it.¡± Varrus casually remarked.
¡°...I won''t let my father keep me in a pitch black room anymore.¡± Tess said with conviction.
Seeing the raven haired teen draw her sword, Varrus nodded his head. It looked like ¡®Plan B¡¯ was a go.
During their conversation, the soldiers had breached the first wall with the help of explosives, and were taking a crack at the next line of defense.
¡°Let''s cut the chatter, I have to focus for the next part then.¡± Varrus muttered, then began pursuing his spells
While Varrus had considered blasting them by spamming big AOE spells, he didn''t want to collapse the mega church that was above this large cavern. That, however, didn''t mean Varrus was helpless.
Without a second thought, he unleashed another Alteration spell. This time it was the Thrumming Stone.
The stone was a magical vibrating rock that emitted a tremor every 8 seconds, staggering enemies and reduced magic resistance by 40% for 2 seconds.
After tossing out a couple of these, he then cast Talons of Nirn.
Talons effect was that whenever an enemy in the area is staggered, a spike of rock erupts from the ground, piercing or tossing the target and dealing 150 Stamina damage.
These two spells, alongside Thrumming Stone significantly slowed down the enemy force.
Metal shrieked as earthen spikes popped the abbot''s barrier of Light like a needle piercing a balloon, and the spears penetrated the soldiers.
Messy splatters of gore leaked out onto the forest as the Gilneans were felled one by one.
They took enormous casualties by the time the second wall was breached. Of the hundreds of Elites, there were now less than 90 front line warriors remaining.
Seeing their tired, grim, and worn out faces, Varrus took pity on them. He didn''t need to slaughter every single last man to achieve victory, he really only needed King Greymane. With him out of the picture, Varrus could swear these Elites to Tess''s service.
¡°Surrender! Surrender, and you shall be spared the same fate! The King has gone mad with grief, and already cost countless Gilnean lives. While the Worgen terrorized you for months, and the King did nothing, Princess Tess solved the problem in a day! Only through new blood, through Her Majesty, Princess Tess''s leadership can Gilneas emerge as a unified nation!¡± Varrus''s magnetic voice boomed within the wide cavern.
¡°Do not listen to this foreigner, faith shall see us through this day! Only through belief in the Light, shall we prevail this day!¡± The abbot rebutted.
While the abbot''s speech indeed raised some spirits, Varrus could see that the soldiers morale was wavering. The men and women at the front were hesitating to press forward to the third wall, and no one was eagerly shouting war cries like they had at the beginning.
¡°Do not be deceived, this abbot is a fraud! This forest is ancient, the statues old and weathered. The cathedral has clearly sat upon this cultists lair, and done nothing. Look with your own eyes, the leader of the Worgen lies dead by my wife''s hand!¡± Varrus released his Imposing Presence, and pressed down upon the fragile psyche of these rattled troops.
¡°Preposterous! Men, charge against this heathen!¡± The abbot said, red in the face.
The Gilneans looked at one another in consternation. Eventually, they looked to the King for orders.
However, Genn Greymane was silently standing over his son''s corpse. While he had his blades drawn, and looked to be angry, he was still grieving.
Varrus took this silence as an opportunity to win over the remaining Elites.
¡°Lay down your arms, and witness a miracle.¡± Varrus continued with his showmanship. He then cast the Restoration spell: Infinite Light upon the Gilneans.
The abbot blocked some of it, but as it was a bouncing beam AOE spell, the majority of Infinite Light got through.
Countless injured and dying Elites suddenly found their limbs regrown, and lethal wounds sewed shut.
Within a handful of minutes, the pitifully low force of 90 Elites had more than doubled in size.
¡°If I was a heretic, could I work such a miracle? Lay down your arms! This is your final warning.¡± Varrus commanded.
At the same time, the rest of House Vandercross filed into the cavern from the rear, and had the priests, and mages held at sword point.
The Gilneans took one last glance at the Tumble Magnets, and Varrus¡¯s remaining 3 walls, and evidently had had enough.
¡°He makes an interesting point, why has this cultists lair been here for so long?¡± The Heroic paladin that had been part of Godfrey''s raiding party-and had previously been grievously wounded, but now stood thanks to Varrus¡¯s spell-questioned the abbot in a dangerous tone of voice.
¡°He-heh-heretics.¡± The abbot got out as a group of paladins surrounded, and gagged him.
King Greymane finally stepped forward.
¡°I built the wall to keep Gilneas safe. I withdrew from the Orc War to save lives. If you men can''t see that, then don''t bother calling yourselves Gilneans. As for you, Tess. You want this crown? Duel me for it. Prove to me you have the conviction to rule this nation.¡± Genn twirled his dual swords, and pointed them at her.
Varrus sharply inhaled, as he knew Tess stood little chance. Even with her affinity for Void, she had only just stepped into the ranks of Heroes.
¡°I never wanted to be Queen, but your mismanagement has driven the realm to civil war. I will face you.¡± Tess spoke up with resolve, and stepped forward.
Narrowing his eyes, Varrus decided to accept this turn of events. Should Tess win, she truly would have proven her conviction, and being witnessed by the Royal Guard, her right to rule would be confirmed.
Before either of them struck one another, Varrus applied all the buffs he could onto Tess.
Greymane scowled at him, but his act did not violate the spirit of the duel, as their battle had yet to commence.
Varrus grinned back at the old man, and waved.
¡°Remember what I have taught you, and victory will be achieved.¡± Syra spoke up in encouragement.
Tess bowed to Syra, then flourished her sword in salute to King Greymane.
The duel determining the fate of Gilneas had officially commenced.
Chapter 117
The fight between Tess and King Greymane went about as Varrus had expected.
Even with the buffs, Tess was on a similar level as Rho''dan, whilst the speed, precision, and ferocity Greymane moved with was closer to Syra.
In effect, Tess was slowly losing ground, and Varrus saw that it would only be a matter of time before she lost.
Having already revealed his Elven nature to her, Varrus was confident that between him and his wife, they could install Tess as a sympathetic monarch. Which meant he was tempted to violate the honor of the duel, but that would mean he''d have to massacre the Elites and the pair of Heroes that were acting as witnesses.
On the other hand, there was the meta aspect to this duel. As a fight between a father and daughter, Tess having a cursed body, and the dad being a curmudgeonly old man, it simply screamed of shounen bullshit. Meaning he had a suspicion based on Syra''s advice on the onset of the battle, that Tess would undergo some stupid transformation and overwhelm Greymane. That or something stupid, like the old man would deliberately lose upon witnessing her determination.
Honestly, it could go any way, and Varrus didn''t like this feeling of uncertainty. From what he knew of Greymane, he did love his daughter, but the death of his son in Canon had driven him into denial and madness. It was such a defining event, that Varrus credited this loss with the later loss of Gilneas to Sylvannad and the Forsaken.
Since Greymane had witnessed the death of his child-like any parent-he was sure to be extra irrational.
Uncomfortable with this variable, Varrus decided to fix the odds in his favor.
He was going to cheat.
Waiting for his opportunity, Varrus was readying himself to subtly apply telekinesis when no one was watching him. If he could alter the trajectory of Greymane, or even one of his weapons, then Tess''s victory would be secured.
Watching them clash again and again, Varrus enjoyed the spectacle. The power of their enchanted weapons colored the air when white met red, and beams of energy filled the air like something out of an anime.
Varrus internally nodded at the display. A Hero was a Hero alright. What they could accomplish made any normal man look like an ant in comparison.
¡°You don''t have the moxy to run this nation. These Elves are using you for their own gain! Give up, and return to your room!¡± Greymane pressed, his twin swords broke Tess''s guard, and he kicked her in the stomach.
The force of his kick pummeled Tess, and sent her careening through a few trees.
Tess coughed up blood as a purple shroud of Void energy swirled around her dangerously.
To Varrus''s Mana Sight, the volatile substance looked like it would destabilize at any moment. Most normal people-including the magically attuned Elves-would be dead by this point.
Varrus raised an eyebrow, and wondered if a Human-Elf hybrid with Greymane blood would be able to command the Void like it was nothing.
Glancing at the broad shouldered Rho''dan, Varrus smirked as an idea began to hatch. From what he had observed, Tess had been giving him flirtatious glances ever since he drove the carriage here. Even now, in the heat of battle, she would occasionally look at him. It was a thought worth exploring should she win this duel.
However, his attention was quickly drawn back to the fight, as Tess was starting to shine like a supernova.
¡°So what if they use me? At least I''m wanted! All you do is hide in your castle, and refuse to see me. While they killed the Worgen leader, saved my life, and taught me that this so-called curse is a blessing!¡± Tess loudly admonished, then launched herself at Greymane like a missile.
The older man was put on the back foot for the first time during the engagement, and barely blocked the raving strength Tess was outputting.
She was so strong, she knocked one of his swords out of his hands, and sent him flying with an uppercut.
Greymane backflipped, and gracefully landed nearby Varrus''s Mana Stones. When Greymane tried to recall his sword with the aid of binding magic, it rustled in place, as Varrus clamped down on it with Telekenesis.
¡®Chance!¡¯ Varrus thought to himself, and began to ever so slowly siphon away the Gilnean King''s mana while the beleaguered king tried to regain his bearings.
Greymane, meanwhile, was working his jaw, and purple corruption force was eating away at his bone, before being halted by a white glow. An amulet hanging around his neck flashed, and removed the gunk.
¡°A boon? The curse has driven countless Greymane''s to madness, girl!¡±
Tess was breathing rapidly, her mana levels were tanking fast. She maybe had one more clash in her before she either imploded from the stress, and turned into dust, or she dropped the Void-form completely, and received treatment.
The young Princess ran at Greymane in a last ditch effort. Toxic purple puddle dripped from her skin onto the forest floor, and melted leaves and branches, like wax under the heat of a flame.
Greymane twirled his remaining sword, and then gripped it with both hands. His face was slowly losing its rosy coloring as Varrus''s Mana Stones started to pick up their draining effect.
The older man clearly suspected something was up, and spared Varrus a baleful glare, but it was too late for him to reposition without exposing himself to Tess¡¯s oncoming full throttle attack. So he settled into his pose, and awaited Tess for one final clash where everything was on the line.
¡®This is it.¡¯ Varrus thought to himself.
¡°Do it.¡± Syra calmly ordered.
Upon Syra''s interjection, Tess reacted by channeling all her Void energy into her sword, and out of her body.
A brilliant flash of light exploded when the two warriors¡¯ weapons clashed, temporarily blinding Varrus.
Once the spots cleared from his eyes, he saw that they had impaled one another!
Hot fiery flames erupted from Greymane''s blade, causing the young teen to scream in agony, whilst all the corruption that had been flowing through Tess worked its way into Greymane''s body. The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.
The older man¡¯s amulet flashed, then cracked as its defense was overloaded.
King Greymane fell to the floor, and slowly began to dissolve into a puddle of goop.
As for Tess, she largely resembled the very worst burn victim Varrus could ever imagine, like Anakin Skywalker after he got cooked on Mustafar!
Her howls of pain urged Varrus to action.
Without a second thought, he removed the sword that was still burning her insides with a flick of telekinesis, and began to bath her in a healing glow.
After five minutes, Tess had been completely healed, and had risen from the ashes of her burnt out clothes.
Her pale, naked body was striking in the low light environment of the cavern, but Varrus made sure to keep his eyes on the dirt, as his wife was watching him.
Pulling a cloak out from his inventory, he tossed it over the raven haired beauty''s shoulders.
¡°All loyal subjects of Gilneas, kneel for your rightful Queen.¡± Varrus''s sonorous voice boomed.
Within 10 seconds, well over three quarters of the Elites and the Heroic paladin got onto their knees.
¡°Those that remain standing have made their defiance clear. What is your verdict, Your Majesty?¡± Varrus asked Tess in a calm and clear voice.
Tess looked at the men who stood against her. Her fists tightened, and it almost looked like she would turn away. However, the murder of her father, and the extreme burning must have been quite the experience, because she did not respond as a typical teen would.
¡°Kill the traitors.¡± Tess grimly intoned.
¡°Those who are loyal, take up arms and prove your mettle.¡± Varrus ordered the Gilneans who would follow Tess and give them an opportunity to prove themselves.
He then nodded at Rho''dan, silently communicating the need to stand back, and watch the Gilneans handle their own matters.
¡°Mnn, mm!¡± The bound abbot screamed into his gag as the Heroic paladin gutted him.
A short fight broke out, and any who tried to flee were cut down by House Vandercross.
Before long, only the Elves, and those sworn to Tess remained standing.
¡°You used me.¡± Tess looked between Varrus and Syra with a complicated cocktail of emotions.
Hurt, sorrow, and the hope of acceptance flashed across her eyes.
¡°Yes.¡± Varrus calmly agreed.
¡°Why? Am I just some tool to you? Did you ever see me as a friend?¡± Tess pressed.
The surviving Gilneans shuffled uncomfortably at the current trajectory of the conversation. They likely knew that if it went sideways, they would all die where they stood, as the Elven forces out numbered them, and they had already experienced Varrus''s magical prowess.
Noticing this, Varrus tossed up a shroud of Muffle to keep their conversation private.
¡°Quel''Thalas needs friends to destroy the Scourge. Half the reason we came to Gilneas was to discover such a friend. When I learned that there was someone with a condition that my wife was an expert in dealing with, I knew you would be that friend.
As for using you?
Yes, I intend to use you. I intend to use your kindness, your charisma, your intelligence, your leadership, and your friendship. I intend to use everything about you towards the effort of creating a new world. One in which the Elves of Quel''Thalas can provide food, enchanted goods, and good counsel to its neighbors. Where by improving the lives of the Humans, I will have improved the lives of the Elves.
Yes, Tess Greymane, I see you as a friend, and I intend to use your very capable hands to accomplish great deeds for the good of the Eastern Kingdoms, for the good of all of Azeroth.¡± Varrus finished his speech by putting a hand over his heart, and bowing with sincerity, as every word he spoke was truth.
The [Speech +1] notification popped up once he finished, and Varrus barely withheld a smirk knowing he had performed splendidly.
Tess sharply inhaled at Varrus''s speech, and still looked a little confused, as if she didn''t quite know how to interpret Varrus''s doublespeak. She glanced over at Syra to see what she would say.
¡°Words are not my forte, but it is undeniable, you are my best student. I do not enjoy instructing others, but you were not a nuisance.¡± Syra said, and hugged Varrus from the side, happy to let him carry the conversation.
¡°Thank you big sister Syra, I¡¯ll always cherish the knowledge you have imparted onto me. I hope you can keep tutoring me from time to time?¡± Tess said with a hopeful expression.
Varrus felt his eyebrow twitch at being so obviously ignored. This girl saw a connection between herself and Syra that had her looking for affection like a drowning man grasping at straws. While it bugged Varrus a bit, he wasn''t going to shoot himself in the foot, interrupting their byplay.
Besides, his wife was cute when she didn''t want to talk.
¡°I have created a curriculum with scrying orb.¡±
¡°Oh, I was hoping for more tutoring¡¡± Tess said, obviously disappointed.
¡°Of course, Syra will be more than happy to spend time with you, Tess. We will also be happy to host you in Silvermoon, just like you always dreamed.¡± Varrus coughed into his hand, and nudged Syra.
¡°Really? But can diplomats like you do something like this? What even are your positions in the Quel''Thalas government? I¡¯m sorry if you take this as an insult, but you''re just a bard, right?¡± Tess questioned Varrus with a tilt of her head.
Syra chuckled into Varrus''s shoulder, and pecked him on the cheek.
Varrus was stone faced for a moment, then let out a sigh.
¡°You could say I am somewhat of a big deal in Silvermoon. If the King is number one, then no one else would say they are above me.¡± Varrus explained in brief, as he didn''t want to go too in depth about the Highborns political structure.
¡°So a very important noble, got it. And you want Gilneas to join the Alliance?¡± Tess stopped being as suspicious, and looked at both Varrus and Syra with a friendly-if now more mature-outlook.
¡°Close, but not quite. The Alliance is dead. It was a failed organization that anyone could pull out of at any time, had poor leadership, and little to no organization. The poor management meant armies from different nations did not gather together when instructed, and pride between nobles cost valuable time, resources, and a reckless misuse of lives.¡± Varrus heatedly pushed back against the idea of reforming the Alliance.
¡°Where are you going with this? What new allied structure are you thinking about if not the Alliance? Because while I agree with all the things you said, I can''t think of anything better?¡± Tess shook her head in confusion.
¡°My solution is to form a coalition government. One in which the member states are all ruled locally by their native rulers, but in terms of military and foreign policy, answer to Silvermoon.¡±
Tess closed her eyes, and had a thoughtful look on her face.
¡°Your proposal does not bother me. If your promises of trade were true, that is. The nobles, however, will never allow it.¡± Tess eventually opened her eyes, and looked to Varrus with an apologetic look.
¡°You are, or will be, the Queen. The nation is within the midst of a civil war, and traitors are everywhere. Give me the authority, and I will make the nobles see reason.¡± Varrus pressed.
Tess unconsciously stepped back from the intensity coming from Varrus, and she held onto her arm where she felt the phantom pain of scorched flesh.
Varrus noticed this, and nudged Syra forward.
His wife rolled her eyes, then reluctantly took Tess in an embrace.
The sudden action must have moved the young Monarch, as she was quick to agree to Varrus''s proposal.
¡°Okay, you have a deal. Gilneas will join the Covenant of Silvermoon, but you have to promise not to forget about me, and visit often.¡± Tess shyly nodded at both Varrus and Syra with a shallow smile upon her face.
She seemed to be so uncertain, and looking for approval, it made Varrus genuinely feel bad for her.
Living locked up by ones parents was a fucked up fate that Varrus wished on no one. His own father from back on Earth had experienced something similar, and Varrus took pity on Tess.
Looking at Syra, his wife nodded back, uncharacteristically solemn. As a victim of abuse, she was also sympathetic to Tess''s plight.
¡°Welcome to the Covenant, Tess.¡± Varrus smiled.
Chapter 118
A month had passed, and Varrus was sitting in his office in Silvermoon going over the successes and concerns of the Gilnean campaign.
Taking a sip of some tea, Varrus massaged his eyes, and began to write down what he had accomplished so he had a reference for later.
Starting with the successes:
By backing Tess as the new monarch, Varrus had secured a new vassal state to the Covenant, and a new front of attack for their slowly mounting assault against the Scourge.
In that month, Varrus did much to secure Tess''s rule, and leave the Gilneans dependent on Elven diplomacy/trade.
For one, he had eliminated all of the nobles who balked at her rule, and replaced them with cousins or distant relatives more sympathetic to the cause.
Whilst Gilneas had adopted a isolationist policy for the last 7 months, they were closed no longer. Varrus set up a Rune Stone, and used it as an anchor to set up a portal to Silvermoon.
Now, traders, nobles, and craftsmen could pay a fee, or with a pass enter the Trade Bazaar district in Silvermoon. Where they were free to trade their goods with Elves, and Kobolds.
As a result, Gilneas had easy access to high quality food, low tier enchanted gear, raw materials, and other luxury items such as silks or enchanted items mimicking refrigerators/stoves. In exchange, they provided alchemical ingredients for Starbottle''s potions, and sturdy ironwood, which was a favorite for Elven bows and vessels.
Syra had also been a huge help in stabilizing the young monarch, and acted as a teacher for Void magic studies. Tess was understandably unstable as a leader, considering she was a teenager who spent the majority of her life within a dark room locked away from others. Syra and her were both incredibly awkward with social interactions, but their shared trauma served as a basis for Syra to sympathize. His beautiful wife truly took this as practice for when they eventually had a child, and worked Tess to exhaustion. The raven haired teen wasn''t quite on their level, but she was a solid Hero with room to grow.
As for the Worgen issue, there were still many peasants who had fallen to this curse. With the help of the Darkfallen Prince Valanar, they had learned how to control themselves, and had become forcefully recruited as soldiers. This was a somewhat unpopular stance amongst the populace, but the pay was good, and a pro-Worgen campaign had been launched throughout the nation. By and large, anyone who wanted a shot at a better life, or had a bone to pick with the Undead signed up to the Wolfs Brigade.
In terms of concerns, Varrus had gone on this campaign with few scouts, and his Plan A had completely evaporated with the actions of the Worgen. Secondly, leaving Tess to duel her father was a huge gamble that almost didn''t pay off. If it weren''t for his cheating, and Syra¡¯s tutoring, then the state of Gilneas would be looking quite different at the moment. Lastly, Tess was an emotional young lady, he would have to watch Gilneas carefully, as the slightest breeze might topple her over, and all that hard work would have been for nothing.
Shaking his hea at the complete cluster fuck that was the Gilnean campaign, Varrus rubbed his eyes. Glancing to the side, a stack of papers loomed tall, and awaited his perusal.
¡®Fuck me.¡¯ Varrus internally bemoaned.
As the leader of a noble House, liaison for two other countries, operator of Mana Stone distribution, and First Seat of the Convocation, Varrus received a metric ton of missives and reports all the time.
During this month-with the exception of reforming the nobility-Varus acted more like a CEO of a company than an adventurer, and was busy directing a ton of meetings, and getting the ball rolling on a dozen different missions.
Thanks to the Rune Stones linking together a grand teleportation network, he spent his time porting between Silvermoon, Gilneas, and the Kobolds home so he could oversee the plans, production, and the safety of these lands.
The paperwork was never ending, but if he was to effectively destroy the millions of Undead within the former kingdom of Lordaeron, he couldn''t afford to be sloppy about it, like he was with his Gilnean endeavor.
In his capacity as a CEO, Varrus observed the trends of the world, and acted on his foreknowledge.
While he had been playing around in Gilneas, he had sent out many orders, and missives. At this point, he was 99% certain Archimonde was sent back to the Twisting Nether, and Varrus had acted accordingly.
He had sent the priest, Dawnbringer south into the plaguelands, to prepare for his eventual co-opting of the Forsaken movement. Illidan would use the Eye of Sargeras any day now, and weaken the Lich King. So Varrus was preparing for this eventuality by sending the Undead he trusted most.
Faedra, unknowing of Illidan''s plan, had joined in on the fun, and presented Varrus with an enchanted rod, that when it struck someone-whether living or dead-it removed any compulsion placed upon them.
Effectively, this rod removed the Dreadlords and the Lich King''s hold on the Undead!
Varrus didn''t know how to interpret this move from his mother-in-law, but he wasn''t going to look a gift horse in the mouth.
Thanks to the inherent kindness, and leadership traits of Dawnbringer, this former colleague of Old Man Vandercross had already gathered a low-key following numbering in the thousands thanks to Faedra''s contribution.
Other than this inroad into the Plaguelands, Varrus had sent an envoy westward, to the isle of Kezan. Bilgewater Port, capital city and meeting homeland of the Goblin nation was their destination. Their mission was to entice the Goblin mercenary group, the Blackfuse Company to join him. Siegecrafter Helix Blackfuse was the brilliant mind behind the Iron Horde''s tech, and as far as Varrus was aware, the only person in Warcraft to create an assembly line with conveyor belts.
While Varrus could produce weapons at an insane level thanks to his Smithin ability, and the Skyrim UI, he couldn''t make as of yet anything all that advanced on the tech tree.
As someone who worked with rockets, mecha golems, and other tech heavy weapons, Blackfuses''s addition would be quite welcome in the upcoming campaign against the Scourge.
During this same month, Varrus had revived/paralyzed Rommath repeatedly so that he could question him about restoring the Sunwell with different types of energy. He then shared these notes with Kael, and they slowly worked out an optimal path for the restoration of the Sunwell.
The young King had kept in contact with Varrus, and the Undead Amani had all but been dealt with. At the same time, Nightsong had secured the Ghostlands, and rid it of any roaming ghouls, skeletons, or abominations.
During this interim, Telonicus was hard at work on the Rune Stones, and both he and Tae''thelon had been studying the Rune Pistol that Varrus had obtained from Lorna Crowley.
The pair of researchers were greedy for Mana Stones, but Varrus didn''t mind. They were an odd pair, but didn''t seem to be particularly power hungry. In Tae''thelon''s case, he seemed obsessed with fame & prestige, whilst the engineer, Telonicus had so many new ideas, he was like a nerd who wanted to keep pushing the boundaries of science forward as much as possible. The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.
It was Varrus''s hope that one day, he could combine their knowledge with Blackfuse''s, and make an assembly line of Rune-based weapons. But he still had to make a contract with Blackfuse, and R&D took time. But that didn''t mean Varrus couldn''t dream of such a day.
Finally, Varrus had brokered peace between the Crowley''s, and the Greymane family. While he could never trust Crowley, he had a powerful army, and actively wanted to retake the part of Gilneas that was separated on the other side of the wall. In short, Crowley wanted to do exactly what Varrus wanted Gilneas to do.
The only hang up Varrus had with the guy were his Alliance sympathies, and his willingness to rebel. But all in all, this peace was good, and Varrus could always find a time and place to eliminate him if he became a problem.
All the pieces were coming together, and a noose was slowly forming around the Dreadlords necks.
Golem production was at an all time high, powerful iron works were being sold to the Gilneans, and the Rune Stones required to mask the Sunwell were almost all ready to go.
Whilst Varrus was deep in his thoughts, a knock on his door brought him out of his fugue.
¡°The Blackfuse Company is here to negotiate with you, sir.¡± Rho''dan called out.
¡°Send him in.¡± Varrus said authoritatively.
A moment later, a small green man with pointy ears, and a large head stepped inside.
Helix Blackfuse was a grey haired fellow who wore welding goggles on his head, and sported a cigar in his mouth. Unlike the typical Goblin Trade Princes, this company man didn''t wear a suit, or formal attire. Instead, he was wearing a thick apron, and wore thick gloves. Based solely on his clothing, Blackfuse gave off the aura of a crafter, which was atypical when considering most Goblins in a leadership role dressed themselves in business suits.
To Varrus, this was a good thing. He had sought out an engineer, not some manager that would sit around all day.
Besides, this was a Goblin. Even if he wasn¡¯t wearing a suit, Varrus could trust Blackfuse would be greedy. This was something Varrus would keep in mind during this negotiation.
Just because Blackfuse was dressed like a craftsman, didn''t mean Varrus would discount him as a nonfactor. Canonically, this guy piloted a mech suit against adventurers during the Siege of Orgrimmar. He was a proven mercenary that stuck to his word, Varrus desired such capable people in his retinue.
¡°Helix Blackfuse, please, take a seat.¡± Varrus gestured towards an open chair.
The Goblin hopped up on his seat, and eyed the mountain of paperwork with a wide grin. When he opened his mouth to speak, it was a gravelly high pitch tone, and reminded Varrus of a stereotypical New Yorkers accent.
¡°Hah! Good to see some mess for once. I was walking through yous city, and everything was spotless clean! It''s refreshing to see even a man of your stature can muck about. Names Helix, put''er there ¡± Blackfuse leaned forward, and presented a blackened, oil stained glove.
Varrus saw Rho''dan''s shoulders shake as the large man stood guard at the door, and Varrus couldn''t help but sigh.
¡°Yes, I am quite the busy man, Blackfuse. My name is Varrus Vandercross, First Seat of the Convocation of Silvermoon, it is a pleasure to meet you.¡± Varrus smiled, and cast a cleansing spell on Blackfuse, then reached his hand out for a shake.
¡°Oi, what you do that for? You know how important a Goblin''s grease is for his work? It''ll take me months to get this glove back to perfection! Your man''s promises of gold were enticing, but if we can''t shake hands man to man, how can I trust you will deliver on any contract?¡± Blackfuse pulled back his hand, and at Varrus.
¡°You are on the verge of bankruptcy, Mr. Blackfuse.¡± Varrus gave the Goblin a deadpan look, and refused to buy into his negotiating tactics.
¡°So yous did your homework, eh? I may be close to broke, but I gots my pride. A handsome fellow like you may have a pretty face, and tons of coin, but me and the boys won''t tolerate disrespect.¡± Blackfuse crossed his arms, and narrowed his eyes.
¡°You have moxy speaking like that to me, Blackfuse. This is what happened to the last fellow who jabbered at me too much.¡± Varrus gestured to Zul¡¯Jin''s head that was mounted on the wall.
¡°Ahh, an Elf that speaks my language! So many of you lot speak out your asses, it''s nice to finally get such a naked threat for once!¡± Blackfuse slammed the table with a laugh, then reached forward, and poured himself a glass of wine.
Varrus blinked. This guy didn''t give two fucks! He guessed what they said about geniuses and madness was true, they really went hand in hand.
Chuckling to himself, Varrus removed a gag from the Troll head, and Zul¡¯Jin began to curse up a storm.
¡°I be gettin real tired of dis mon! You be makin a mockery of me every chance ya get! I be havin enough!¡±
¡°You''re not locked up anymore, are you?¡±
¡°...ya mon, but dis is no way to live!¡± Zul¡¯Jin rebutted.
¡°And you ate Elves. Spare me your sob story.¡± Varrus rolled his eyes, and put the gag back in place.
¡°I am not an unreasonable employer, but respect is a two way street my little green friend. You come into my house, insult me with a dirty handshake, drag muddy boots on my floor, and help yourself to my refreshments. I realize you are testing my patience, hence my current calm, but be warned, Mr. Blackfuse, any further pushing may result in a similar outcome to Zul¡¯Jin here.¡± Varrus calmly sipped on his tea, and eyed Blackfuse with a look of aloofness.
¡°See, that''s the kind of arrogance me and the boys can''t stand. I''m almost broke, and came all this way knowing yous might gut me, I''ve got nothing to lose. So might as well see what the measure of my potential employer is.¡± Blackfuse shrugged his shoulders, and took a big gulp of his drink. ¡°So far, I''m unimpressed.¡±
¡°As an Elf, I could be silently drinking water, and you''d think I was looking down on you.¡± Varrus chuckled.
¡°But that is neither here nor there, Mr. Blackfuse. I say you do have something to live for.¡± Varrus steepled his fingers.
¡°Oh hoh? Go on, wow me, I''m all ears.¡± Blackfuse raised his goblet, and gestured for Varrus to continue.
¡°Revenge. You were a founding member of the Venture Company 30 years ago. You were on track to act as their CEO, but got ousted by your long time partner, no?¡±
¡°Like I said, you did your homework. So what if you are offering me revenge, what good is that? Can I eat it?¡± Blackfuse toyed with his cigar, and laughed as if Varrus had gone mad.
¡°I am offering you land, money, and a stockpile of raw goods like you''ve never seen. You are a creator, Mr. Blackfuse. Your shredders cut lumber, and farmed crops, generating huge amounts of cash. Unlike the fat cats swimming in coins, you spent what money entered your coffers immediately on experiments and new inventions. Yes, Mr. Blackfuse, I offer you revenge. Not the kind that sees your enemies dead on the ground, but the kind that has them weeping and begging in the street. When they see your success, they will have wished they kept you.¡±
¡°That does sound nice, but the way I sees it, is you need me more than I need you. I know about the Undead crisis yous find yourselves in. Let''s just say my services ain''t cheap.¡±
Varrus grinned at Blackfuse, and Blinked behind him.
¡°What the fuh-¡±
Blinking several more times in quick succession, Varrus took Blackfuse to a tower overlooking an open field.
¡°Bleh! The fuck you think you''re doing?¡± Blackfuse wretched from the rapid teleportation, then reached for his pistol, only to find it being toyed with in Varrus''s grip.
¡°Do I need you?¡± Varrus asked rhetorically, and gestured forward.
Down below, tens of thousands of Worgen were being fitted with armor, and were busy training with weapons.
Men were practicing loading muskets, and gunpowder cannons, Elves were practicing their magic, and ten thousand Iron Golems sat idly by.
Hovering over the field, a dozen Elven structures floated by. They were bristling with Mana Cannons, and had several round boxes worth of explosives ready to be dropped at any time. Men were practicing parachuting off of the levitating buildings, and Dragonhawks patrolled the sky.
¡°You are a piece of the puzzle, Mr. Blackfuse, but the services of one down and out Goblin are hardly the lynchpin necessary for my victory.¡± Varrus spoke with an arrogant pride as he observed the formation of the Covenant''s new army.
¡°You''re a right bastard, aren''t you, Vandercross?¡± Blackfuse eyed the scene for a moment longer, then took off his glove and presented his hand.
¡°And you''re a little green shit, Mr. Blackfuse.¡± Varrus grinned back, and shook his hand.
¡°So how much is the pay?¡± Blackfuse dropped his grin, and looked at Varrus with a deadly serious expression.
¡°Enough.¡± Varrus''s grin spread wider as he trolled the little man. ¡°I''ll have your contract prepared on the morrow. Welcome to the Covenant, Mr. Blackfuse.¡±
Chapter 119
After negotiating the terms of service with the Blackfuse Company to the sum of 1,000 gold a year, and the leasing of Amani land for 50 years, Varrus had decided to get some much needed training in before he restored the Sunwell.
He had a creeping feeling that someone would come to stop him when he tried to bring the Sunwell back to life. After all, hadn''t he been present to stop something like 5 rituals already? Warcraft was just the type of universe where this type of nonsense happened.
So it was better to be prepared than to shrug it off and leave it to fate.
Which is why Varrus found himself trading swords & spells with the various members of his House over the last week while they waited for Telonicus to finish the last couple of Rune Stones needed to shield Quel''Thalas from scrying.
Situated on a beach off the east coast of Quel''Thalas, all of House Vandercross were out sparring, and training against one another. Even Lor''Themar, Koren, Nightsong, and Prince Valanar had joined in.
Varrus was currently riding a flying carpet, and training his ability to drive the damned thing while under pressure.
Whether it was maneuvering the carpet through hoops, or dodging Elite Elven archers, Varrus had been taking his flying carpet through the ringer.
¡°I can''t believe you''re finally going to restore the Sunwell! I have hoped¡no, prayed that this was true!¡± Koren jubilantly cheered from atop his dragonhawk.
The excited Sky Marshal whooshed at Varrus with the intent to skewer him with his enchanted spear. A wide grin was on the blonde''s face.
¡°I always keep my promises.¡± Varrus solemnly nodded back. At least, he would keep this one. If he didn''t, then Koren would have betrayed his family for no reason, and likely turn on Varrus too.
Fortunately, his number one sycophant was obsessed with the Sunwell, so it hadn''t come to that yet.
Shaking his head, Varrus refocused his attention on the fight.
Varrus Blinked, and made sure to take the carpet with him this time, as the last 3 attempts saw him falling to the ground.
Landing on the thin material this time, Varrus mentally cheered, but he had little time to celebrate, as the dragonhawk knight had readjusted his course, and was flying right at Varrus!
Magical energies pooled at the tip of Koren''s weapon, and a lance of blue Arcane frost magic blasted itself at Varrus.
Conjuring a Mana Stone, Varrus held it in front of him with Telekinesis.
Once the magic impacted the crystal, and absorbed the attack, it turned blue.
Varrus then muttered some focusing words that he had learned from the memory crystal Old Man Vandercross had imparted to him.
A moment later, the crystal exploded outward towards Koren. A dozen, floating, icy Elemental whisps rushed towards Koren, forcing him to slow down, and slay them with his spear, lest he become overrun.
Varrus''s ear twitched, and he Blinked away as an arrow sailed by.
Looking down at the beach, the Ranger General gave him a wave, then fired a dozen more magic arrows.
Each arrow came at him thrumming with the power and speed of an artillery shell.
Varrus tried the same Mana Stone trick again to defend himself, but the arrows moved mid-flight, and clustered together for one pinpoint strike.
Furthermore, they were all spaced out one after another, so that as soon as one arrow struck, the next one would hit the same spot 0.2 seconds later.
In effect, it felt like 12 arrows landed in one spot almost instantaneously.
As a result, the Mana Stone was broken through, and about 4 arrows were now poised to strike Varrus''s throat!
It was only when the first arrow broke through, and triggered his Ebony Flesh that Varrus realized how dangerous Lor''Themar''s bow truly was.
When the second arrow caused the magical armor to quiver, and threaten to snap, that was when Varrus had finally gotten his bearings, and reacted.
Using telekinesis, he ripped the remaining 2 arrows out of the sky, and responded to Lor''Themar''s attack with several Bolides.
A half dozen meteorites plunged down at Lor''Themar like rain from Heaven. Their fiery trails picked up 4x speed and damage as the distance between Varrus and Lor''Themar made the spell more effective the further they were apart.
The Ranger General expertly sniped down 6 meteorites, then unsheathed his twin swords and cut down 5 more. As for the last meteorite, Varrus applied a spin on it with his Telekenesis, and put Lor''Themar on the back foot when it exploded just in front of him.
Lor''Themar clearly hadn''t been expecting that, and Varrus wanted to follow up on his minor victory, yet the flapping of wings and cry if a dragonhawk swiftly drew his attention away from the beach.
He would have liked to have used a Master tier spell on Lor''Themar, but that took a few seconds to cast. Seconds he did not have with Koren having defeated the Elementals, and bearing down on his flank.
Varrus grinned as he cast Tumble Magnet on the knight, and watched as Koren''s flight path was knocked off course.
However, his grin was soon to disappear, as his own ride was getting rather wobbly.
Frowning, Varrus looked down, and saw several holes had pierced his flying carpet, and some arrows embedded in it were actively draining away the enchantments that held it together.
Varrus looked down once more, and saw a ¡®not smug!¡¯ look on Lor''Themar''s face.
Varrus squinted his eyes, and cast Drop Zone on the ground, then dove down like a professional swimmer.
Lor''Themar shot at him while he fell, prompting Varrus to repeatedly swipe his hand back and forth, and knock the arrows out of the air with his Telekinesis.
What arrows he couldn''t bat away, he cut through with his sword.
Over the course of the last month, he had sparred on and off with Syra, and finally attained 100 in One Handed.
Channeling Arcane energies, a hot white aura coated his blade, and matched the power contained in Lor''Themar''s arrows, canceling the magic in the wooden missiles.
Before he made landfall, Varrus boosted all his physical stats with the Illusion/Alteration spells/perks, and the skill of his One Handed increased to 140.
Performing a front flip, Varrus landed on his feet, and ran at Lor''Themar without any delay.
Clashing swords, Varrus was still a little slower than Lor''Themar, but his timing and the placement of his strikes had improved by leaps and bounds.
Opening up with an overhead, Varrus transitioned into a diagonal slash, parry, twirl, side step combo all within a few seconds.
This time, Varrus wasn''t the one on the back foot!
¡°Such talent. I wish I''d gotten my hands on you earlier.¡± Lor''Themar said in a chiding tone.
The Ranger General was grinning from ear to ear as he bantered. This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
Varrus on the other hand, felt himself sweating from the exertion. The high intensity, fast paced exchange of blows was beginning to take its toll on him. He may have the skills, but in his heart of hearts, he was still primarily a backline glass cannon.
So whilst the Ranger General still wasn''t pressed, Varrus could hold his own against the 5,000+ year old man.
The Skyrim UI was truly some bs to behold when in action! And unfortunately for the old man, Varrus wasn''t satisfied with ¡®merely¡¯ holding his own.
Activating the abilities of the One Handed skill tree, Varrus surprised Lor''Themar once more.
Rogue''s Parry - When wielding a one-handed weapon and an empty other hand, attacking with the weapon while the opponent is winding up their attack or drawing a bow deals 40% more damage and delivers a critical strike.
Thundering Blow - Whenever you perform a total of 8 or more one-handed regular attacks in combat, your next one-handed power attack is a Thundering Blow that deals double damage and costs no Stamina, resetting the counter.
Aftershock - After a Thundering Blow, attack speed is increased by 75% for 3 seconds.
When the three perks activated at the same time, Varrus knocked Lor''Themar back with an absolute flurry of blows.
The old man lost his ever present grin, and stopped bantering as Varrus forced him to focus up.
Powerful enchantments clashed again and again as each man tried to bypass the others defenses, and score a blow.
Varrus felt his Ebony Flesh and enchanted armor waver, whilst his own blade scraped against the protective surface of Lor''Themar''s own enchantments.
As this was a friendly spar, victory would be determined by whoever popped the magic shield first!
Gasping for air, and sweating up a storm, Varrus knew he was soon to be gassed, and had to do something if he was to win.
Performing a sideswipe, Varrus knocked Lor''Themar back thanks to another perk Windswept.
With that opening, he lunged forward with a stab.
Lor''Themar had recovered, and anticipated this move. He brought both blades roughly down onto Varrus''s own, and scraped them along his blade. In one motion, he had pressed Varrus''s sword down, and was less than a second away from pressing his swords to Varrus''s neck.
Smirking to himself, Varrus had anticipated such a maneuver, and Blinked behind Lor''Themar while he was committed to his attack.
Applying Burning Hands to his palms, Varrus moved to embrace Lor''Themar from behind, and immolate him.
However, much to Varrus''s surprise, Lor''Themar had suddenly reversed his blades, and stabbed backwards without looking.
The twin blades pierced Varrus''s protective shields, and Varrus forced himself to halt, lest he run himself through.
¡°Never hit an old dog with the same trick twice. You may be clever Vandercross, but you finished our duel the same way last time, remember?¡± Lor''Themar smiled, and tapped the side of his own head with the flat of his blade.
¡°Damned Old Man.¡± Varrus cursed under his breath.
¡°That. Was. Awesome!¡± Koren came flying down, and praised.
Varrus wordlessly nodded at the pair as he caught his breath. He couldn''t wait until the Sunwell was restored, as the unlimited stamina it provided would be the best.
Twisting the cap off a canteen, Varrus greedily drank from within, and let the cool refreshing restorative potion rejuvenate his stamina and energy.
¡°I''ll get you one day, Lor''Themar.¡± Varrus eventually said after taking a few more sips.
¡°That day is not far off, I imagine. Only 7 months have passed since we first traded blades. Your progress is astounding. I would say you''re a once in a generational talent, but then again, the King learns as fast as you do!¡± Lor''Themar slapped his knee, and laughed.
While Varrus was giving him the stink eye, the Ranger General ripped the canteen from his hands, and took a big swig.
¡°Eh? How do you stomach this, Vandercross?¡± Lor''Themar said with a sour expression.
¡°It can''t be that bad.¡± Koren shook his head, and gestured towards Lor''Themar.
Lor''Themar wordlessly tossed the canteen to the dragonhawk knight. When Koren took a sip, his face screwed up, and he puckered his face as if he had consumed the most sour candy in existence.
¡°Pah, what''s in this?¡± Koren eventually got out.
Varrus idly scratched his cheek. He liked things on the sour side, and when he complained about the taste of Lightbottle''s droughts, Syra had spiked his drink with a different flavor.
He never intended on sharing it with anyone else, but to see the old man get a taste of his own medicine¡it was quite fulfilling!
Varrus¡¯s shoulders shook with repressed laughter. Lor''Themar wasn''t making a face, but Koren''s said it all. They were not enjoying the after taste!
¡°I thought we had put our pranking war behind us, but I see now that hostilities have resumed.¡± Lor''Themar turned away, and said in a cold tone.
Varrus''s laughter suddenly cut.
Ever since he had paralyzed Lor''Themar, Varrus and the old man had been trying to one up each other every chance they got.
They had repeatedly gotten one another since then, and it was ever escalating. For example, Lor''Themar had found himself pink haired for an entire day, all his carved shoes squeaked, and the last time he had taken a bath, the soap was spiked to smell like a Troll''s armpit.
Varrus had his fair share of foibles too. One morning, he woke up completely bald. Not something terrible, as he was a man, but Syra did not appreciate it, and he missed out on her love that day. Another time, an entire family of hundreds of chickens had found their way into his manor. The amount of noise and mess those chickens made was legendary!
Needless to say, things had gotten out of hand, and a truce had been established.
But with the resumption of hostilities, Varrus would have to resume his vigilance.
Varrus face palmed, and turned to watch the other battles, and see how everyone else was doing.
Syra was battling Nightsong, and despite being out skilled, his wife was making a good showing. Training Tess seemed to do her some good, as Syra''s control over the Void had increased, as a result, her Holy Void state could last much longer than before.
That lovable murderous blonde had proven herself to truly be a shounen protagonist. When she first revealed the Holy Void state, she could only hold onto it for a couple minutes. Now that a few months had passed, she could maintain it almost indefinitely while fighting. This development had Varrus curious, and eager for what else she had in store for him. If she truly was a shounen protagonist type, then she surely would have another transformation.
As for Nightsong, her skills were superb as always. She wasn''t as fast as Syra, but her timing and strength were impeccable. While she wielded a sword and shield, she also mixed in Druidic spells in-between.
Buffs were one obvious thing, but sometimes she would transform an arm into that of a bear for a heavy swipe, or her head into a Dragon¡¯s and unleash a breath attack.
Watching the two of them mix magic into their melee combat made Lor''Themar and Varrus seem kind of weak in comparison.
Side-eying Lor''Themar, Varrus saw that the older man had eyes only for Nightsong.
¡°You should talk to her.¡± Varrus suggested.
¡°Me? I may be the Ranger General now, but that was out of necessity. At heart, I am nothing more than a shoe carver who knows a little bit of the sword & bow. In time, someone shall replace me. But her? She is the General Nightsong. A legend. One does not simply talk to her.¡± Lor''Themar scoffed.
¡°You sell yourself short. You may be a scummy old man, but you''re within the strongest top 5 of Quel''Thalas.¡± Varrus praised. ¡°Besides, she is quite lonely.¡± Varrus finished.
Eying his mother, Varrus saw the strength and serenity of a warrior who knew who she was, and what she was about. But that was what was on the surface. From his brief encounters with her, she seemed like a woman lost in a different time. One who wanted the joys of a family, but had it cruelly taken from her.
It pained Varrus that Nightsong and his wife didn''t particularly get along. He wanted to do right by his new mother, but it was a process.
So he thought to himself, perhaps Lor''Themar could be of some help.
He had seen how the old man acted around her, and he knew that Lor''Themar, for all his strength, was also greatly hurt by the Scourging of Silvermoon.
¡°Yeah, go for it!¡± Koren enthusiastically cheered from the side.
¡°This isn''t some prank is it? Because whilst everything till now has been in good fun, I swear Vandercross-¡±
¡°I''m serious. I think you two would be good for one another.¡± Varrus interrupted, and held his palms up.
¡°...I''ll think about it.¡±
¡°Well think about it sooner than later. We''re restoring the Sunwell within days. Then, the campaign against the Scourge will begin in earnest, and there will be little time for romance.¡± Varrus said tersely, then walked off to join Rho''dan for further sparring.
¡°Hah. You''re still too young, the best place to romance a woman like Nightsong is on the battlefield.¡± Lor''Themar shook his head with a grin, and called out at Varrus''s back.
¡°He doesn''t know how good he has it.¡± Koren bitterly spat.
¡°Eh, don''t be jealous. Even if you did get together with Lady Liadran, I do not think it would last.¡± Lor''Themar shared his sage wisdom.
Koren wordlessly pulled on the reins for his mount, and took to the sky.
Lor''Themar chuckled, and drew his bow.
¡®Poor kid can''t see the writing on the wall. Loadran is married to the Light, she hardly has time for another love.¡¯ Lor''Themar thought to himself in pity, and prepared to spar once again.
Lor''Themar shook his head as Vandercross''s words rang in his head. Bah, the pup was right. What did he have to lose?
Chapter 120
The day of the Sunwell''s renewal had finally come, and the most powerful/influential Highborn had all gathered on the Isle of Quel''Danas for the occasion.
Bands were playing music, and people were partying with a festive mood.
Meanwhile, Varrus was taking the threat to the restoration very seriously. With the output of his Mana Stones, he could have restored the Sunwell months ago. However, he had Archimonde to worry about, and even the Scourge. If he recreated a font of ¡®limitless¡¯ power, then the Dreadlords would get wind of it, and march those millions of Undead north before they were ready for them.
By delaying by a few months, Varrus, along with his friends and allies had retaken all of Quel''Thalas, and secured their borders.
Now that Telonicus had finished the Rune Stones, Quel''Thalas was hidden from the eyes of the Legion, and the Old Gods. With their land secured, Varrus could finally go through with his long held plan.
Standing in the large crater that had once been the Sunwell before Kael had destroyed it, Varrus had gathered the full might of Quel''Thalas to defend him while he began the restoration process.
Kael¡¯Thas had finished with the Undead Amani, and was hovering nearby with Jan''alai. His army, the Sunfury had set up cannons around the perimeter, and held the few avenues of approach that led to the Sunwell.
Sky Marshal Koren patrolled the skies with over a thousand Dragonhawk Knights.
Lady Liadran rode upon her holy steed, and led a cavalry unit that trampled across open land in an effort to overrun any potential stealthed opponents.
The new Grand Magister, Alistair Bloodsworn and his mages were escorted by the Rangers as they set up anti portal inscriptions around the island.
General Nightsong, along with her most trusted Elites remained at the periphery. Their Darkfallen nature spooked most of the Highborn, but Varrus was paranoid enough that he wanted every Hero he could get his hands on.
As for Varrus, he had constructed thousands of Iron Golems, and placed a dozen, levitating, enchanted Towers of Jenga around the rim of the crater. Each tower housed 50 Dwarven Auto Cannons, and was flush with Mana Stones.
While Varrus was lost in thought, checking to make sure their defenses were spotless, Syra, Jan''alai, and Kael were tagging along.
¡°So what''s so important about this big puddle of water, bestie? I know Zul¡¯Jin always said this was Amani sacred land, but what good is some magic liquid when you could just crush all your problems between your thighs?!¡± Jan''alai grinned, then paused to flex her muscular legs.
¡°Some men like to get wet.¡± Syra glanced at Varrus''s silky smooth blonde hair hotly. ¡°But the real benefit of the Sunwell is the stamina. I am. Mn. Looking forward to it.¡± Syra said with rosy cheeks.
¡°Ohhh! I hadn''t thought of that! Yeah, Goldilocks is handsome and all, but he could go a few more rounds, ya know? Three really isn''t enough to satisfy big girls like us, right?¡± Jan''alai bodaciously laughed.
¡°Mn. Three isn''t enough.¡± Syra nodded along like a little school girl agreeing with her older teenage sister.
¡°But back to that wet stuff! This one time, I was so sweaty, I had Goldilocks-¡± Jan''alai wrapped her arm around Syra''s shoulder, and began to wildly gesture.
Walking ahead of them, Varrus and Kael were deep in their own conversation.
The tips of Kael''s ears were glowing red as he overheard all the girl talk, but as the youngest King in Quel''Thalas''s history, he tried to ignore the rumors, and moved to talk with Varrus to distract himself.
¡°Ahem. Are you certain this is not over-kill? A formal event, or ceremony, this I understand. But are we truly at risk of being attacked?¡±
¡°It''s that kind of arrogance that saw us lose to the Scourge in the first place. You''re not sniffing that Fel energy again, are you? Green teets haven''t driven you mad with exhaustion?¡± Varrus teased.
¡°Preposterous! Exhausted? Me? That was merely a rumor!¡± Kael hotly defended himself.
¡°Oh? Rumors travel fast, Three times not enough? I guess I know the real reason why you''re so invested in the Sunwell.¡± Varrus grinned.
¡°As if you aren''t interested in such properties!¡± Kael pointed an accusing finger. He dropped all his humility, and looked smug at Varrus as he knew how busy his best friend and wife were.
¡°I admit, it will be a nice bonus. No man would say no to unlimited stamina.¡± Varrus shrugged his shoulders.
¡°Hm, true. I haven''t had much time to study magic ever since I took up the role of King. With the Sunwell restored, I''ll finally be able to resume my favorite hobby.¡± Kael flickered some mana in his hand, and looked longingly at the sparkle.
¡°Never change Kael, never change. As long as you stay as a nerdy King obsessed with old books, I''ll know the kingdom is in good hands.¡± Varrus said.
¡°I feel like you''re mocking me.¡± Kael curled an eyebrow at Varrus.
¡°What, me? What ever gave you that idea? I imagine your ¡®hobbies¡¯ include holding a book in one hand, and a giant green brea-¡±
¡°Goldilocks!¡± Jan''alai interrupted the conversation, and threw him on top of her shoulders.
¡°The King takes his throne, hm?¡± Varrus mocked.
¡°What is it, Jan''alai?¡± Kael tried to speak formally, but he couldn''t help but smile when his lover ran up to him with so much energy.
¡°Tell him bestie!¡± Jan''alai pulled Syra forward. The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
Kael looked down at his friend''s wife, and patiently waited. He didn''t exactly care for her strong hold on Varrus, but ever since he had spent so much time with Jan''alai, he somewhat understood.
¡°....¡± Syra silently stared at Kael, then hugged Varrus.
¡°Ahhh, c''mon bestie!¡± Jan''alai cajoled.
¡°If Lady Vandercross does not wish to speak, do not force the issue.¡± Kael sternly interjected.
Kael intended to save his friend some face, but apparently what he said had emboldened Syra.
¡°Three rounds is not enough.¡± Syra nodded sagely, like an ancient wiseman sharing the secrets to the universe.
Kael felt his face freeze, and he woodenly looked to Varrus as if he couldn''t believe what he was hearing.
¡°Ah, yeah, so I''m going to start on the Sunwell then, all our defenses seem to be in order. Please, no one distract me while I conduct the ritual.¡± Varrus coughed into his hand, and stared off to the side.
¡°Yep, yep! We''ll be quiet as a mouse! C''mon Goldilocks, let''s get into position! Ooo, I can''t wait to celebrate the Sunwell''s restoration! Talk to you later bestie!¡± Jan''alai cheered, then enthusiastically waved at Syra.
Syra nodded back, and replied with a tiny wave of her own.
Kael wanted to be mad at the public humiliation, but the thought of tonight''s activities had him keep his mouth shut.
¡®Three rounds is not enough, eh?¡¯ Kael thoughtfully rubbed his chin.
When he looked up, he saw his best friend giving him a thumbs up and a wink.
Kael scoffed, and flew after Jan''alai.
¡°Kiieer!¡± Al''ar screeched.
Kael kept his mouth shut at his phoenix companion''s outburst, yet his burning ear tips said it all.
Meanwhile, Nightsong had been following them the entire time, and had been drawing the entire scene. The slight upturn of her lips, subtle shake of her shoulders, and furiously scratching quill upon a pad of paper were the only indications that she was paying attention to Varrus/Kael''s conversation.
~~~~~~~~
Taking a deep breath, Varrus allowed the silly conversation to calm down his nerves, and he got to work. It was time to finish this long standing mission.
[Remember the Sunwell!: repair the Sunwell 0/999,999,999 mana]
As the quest to restore the Sunwell came from the Skyrim UI, restoring the font of incredible power didn''t actually require much thought. All he had to do was follow a translucent white outline, and slot the object in the correct place.
As he intended to mix the powers of the Elements, Light, Life, and Arcane, he had consulted with Kael¡¯Thas, Bloodsworn, Telonicus, Tae''thelon, and the spirit of Rommath as to the viability of such an endeavor. Over the last month, they had devised a seal that would make such a dream a possibility.
And so, 50% of the Mana Stones would contain Arcane energy, and act as the base that connected everything together. The remaining distribution of energy looked something like:
Water: 5%
Fire: 5%
Earth: 5%
Wind: 5%
Life: 15%
Light: 15%
In total, he was going to place 500 Mana Stones into an octagonal pattern.
First things first, Varrus took out a Master tier Mana Stone, and levitated it into position. When he released it, it snapped into place like a Lego piece.
Looking around, he didn''t see any malicious activity, or sudden storm on the horizon.
Wiping a bead of sweat from his forehead, Varrus just hoped he was wrong, and this would go off without a hitch.
¡®Okay, just 499 to go.¡¯
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
(The Caverns of Time)
Lounging in a bedroom filled with ancient artifacts, and other rare collectibles, a Bronze Dragon had polymorphed herself to look like a white-blonde haired Gnome girl. While she was relaxing, she was giggling to herself as she watched an event currently taking place on her scrying orb.
¡°Oh Lady Prestor, how ever will you convince Varian to listen to your demands?¡± Chronormu covered her mouth with a scandalized look as she watched Deathwing''s favorite daughter seduce the King of Stormwind.
Taking a sip from a juice box, Chromie hugged a Thrall plushie, and glanced around making sure no one was nearby.
While the girl was watching the events of the past, the present, and the future like it was some reality TV show was about to slip a finger into her panties, another Bronze Dragon-this one polymorphed to look like a Tauren-burst into her room.
¡°Chromie! Chrome, it''s bad!¡± The Tauren waved his hands, and knocked over some of the items in the Gnomes room.
¡°Gosh, relax would you, Dante? That is a real version of the Doomhammer from the Iron Horde timeline, show it some respect!¡± Chromie set down her scrying orb in a huff, and retracted her hand lightning fast.
¡°No Chromie, you don''t understand! You remember that kid we sent adventurers to eliminate 60~ some years ago because he was a threat to the true timeline?¡± Dante asked in a deep bass voice.
¡°Gonna have to be more specific than that, Dante. We nabbed a loooot of baddies over the millenia.¡± Chromie picked her ear, and flicked some ear wax away and spoke in a high pitched, disinterested tone.
¡°The Elf kid, Varrus Vandercross, the one Master Norzdamu warned us about!¡±
¡°Hm, Vandercross, Vandercross, it rings a bell¡you mean that dead Elf? He''s dead, what do we care?¡± Chromie tapped her chin, then shook her head at Dante as if he were an idiot.
¡°Not him, the boy! He''s alive, and he''s in the process of restoring the Sunwell 5 years early! Not only that, but Quel''Thalas has gone off the script and emerged as a new Empire! It''s a defcon 5 scenario!¡± Dante wildly shook his arms.
¡°Shit.¡± Chromie paused as she realized the magnitude of the situation. Picking up her scrying orb, Chromie realized she couldn''t see anything going on in Quel''Thalas at the moment, but she could rewind events, and see what had ked up to them. ¡°Shit! Shit! Shit!¡±
¡°We need to get some adventurers to the Scourging of Silvermoon ASAP, and nip this problem in the bud!¡± Chromie threw on a coat, and began to pretty up her face with some makeup.
¡°We can''t! The Infinite Dragonflight has put up a time block! Varrus Vandercross''s mother is Nightsong. Apparently she was resurrected thanks to the Undead invasion! Our only option is to go in real time!¡± Dante complained.
¡°Shit! Shit! Shit!¡± Chromie tore at her hair in a panic.
¡°Chronormu, Andantenormu, all my children gather. A Time Crisis threatens to overturn Azeroth. Assemble.¡± The voice of Nozdormu, Master of the Bronze Dragonflight, and Keeper of Time telepathically ordered.
¡°Time Crisis.¡± Chromie and Dante said at the same time, and looked at one another in worry.
¡°If Norzdamu is calling a Time Crisis¡then we''ll have to fight personally!¡± Dante said in worry.
¡°Gah! Whoever that Varrus Vandercross guy is, he''ll be dead by the end of today!¡± Chromie snarled to herself as she left to join the meeting.
~~~~~~~
AN: FYI, we''re not doing time travel shenanigans in this story going forward. This Bronze Dragonflight stuff is getting solved this arc!
Who else thought that the Bronze Dragons might try to pull something here? Come claim your cookie if you did~
Read 25 chapters ahead at:
Chapter 121
(Caverns of Time)
Within a endless cavern full of portals leading to different timelines, and alternate realities, the most powerful of the Bronze Dragons had gathered.
Floating above them all was a great big yellow-bronze colored wyrm.
It was Nozdormu, the self professed Guardian of Time.
¡°Everyone is here. Good. The daughter of Akatosh and her spawn threaten the proper timeline as set by Aman''Thul. This rivalry between the Pantheon of the Aedra, and the Titans has created a Time Crisis. Chronormu, Andantenormu, as you two failed in this task, it is up to you to make things right.¡± Nozdormu''s voice boomed throughout the cavern, and was felt across several timelines.
Chromie felt the piercing glares of her compatriots, and she nervously shifted in place. She was about to nominate Dante to handle the issues, but the Tauren had pushed her forward.
¡®Prick!¡¯ Chromie internally swore, but with all the eyes of the Bronze Dragonflight on her, she didn''t dare yell or make a scene.
¡°Master Nozdormu, brothers and sisters, resolving this Time Crisis is simple! We''ll do what we always do, grab some adventurers, and launch a raid!¡± Chromie shouted with confident excitement.
¡°A simple plan like always, Chromie, but what of the Heroes? Can you convince the Horde and the Alliance to aid us?¡± Soridormi, a Dragon polymorphed into the appearance of a female High Elf, and prime consort to Nozdormu said disparagingly.
¡®Pretty girl always needling at me!¡¯ Chromie internally fumed.
¡°Sister, believe me, there is no problem. Right, Dante?¡± Chromie elbowed her compatriot.
¡°Oh? Oh! No problem, no problem! We''ll just grab some famous Heroes right as they die, and maybe a few collaborators from the future timeline too.¡± Dante waved his hands expressively.
¡°See? No problem!¡± Chromie smiled in a cutesy pose.
¡°This raid, it is limited to 80 adventurers, is it not? 40 Alliance, and 40 Horde? It always confuses me why this happens. Why not use all of the Champions from across all the timelines?¡± Andormu-a Dragon-polymorphed to look like a High Elf boy-put a hand on his head, and said in a troubled voice.
¡°The twist and turn of time is a delicate fabric. Summoning any more than 80 Champions of Azeroth would invite unwelcome guests, and tear holes into reality.¡± Nozdormu''s voice boomed.
¡°There you go! So, if we''re done here, me and Dante had better get going!¡± Chromie grabbed Dante by the arm, and was about to port out when she was stopped.
¡°Wait.¡± Nozdormu commanded.
His words carried the conceptual weight of time, and reversed Chromie''s actions.
Chromie held onto her head as she had the memories of 10 seconds into the future, but had been flung into her past body.
¡°This is the turning point. I sense a great upheaval on the horizon, yet the outcome of this battle eludes me. Varrus Vandercross, and his mother, Nightsong must be eliminated. Kael Sunstrider, however, must remain alive if we are to return to the proper timeline.¡±
¡°Yes, Master!¡± Chromie saluted, and prepared to teleport away once more, but she was held in place by Nozdormu''s power.
¡°Do not treat this task as flippantly as you have in the past-and the future-defeat means the end of the Dragonflight as we know it. Treat the Time Crisis with the respect and fear it deserves. Go now, and be swift about it.¡±
Chromie saluted her father and Master, then hesitated, waiting for him to interrupt her once more. When all he did was look at her for a solid minute, Chromie scratched the back of her head in embarrassment.
¡°Come on Dante!¡± Chromie loudly whispered, then disappeared with the Tauren to carry out her task.
Appearing in Chromie''s room, the tiny Gnome began to stuff her ancient artifacts, rare reagents, and collectibles hastily into her mageweave bag.
¡°Chromie, what do we do?¡± Dante asked in a panic.
¡°Quiet, I''m thinking!¡± Chromie yelled back. ¡°No wait, you have loot on you, right? The Champions of Azeroth won''t do anything if you don''t offer some rare items.¡±
¡°I have made a copy of a ring, a cloak, some leather boots, and a staff.¡± Dante eventually said.
¡°You''re getting real cheap on me, Dante!¡± Chromie said in exasperation.
She then took out an ink pot, and quill, and began to hastily write a note:
¡®Champion, if you have received this message, then the world is in dire straits! The Master of the Bronze Dragonflight, Nozdormu has sensed a tumultuous shift in the balance of the timeline. The evil Blood Elf, Varrus Vandercross, has corrupted the minds of his fellow Highborn, and intends to overthrow all the races of the world with the power of the Sunwell! If his ritual is not stopped, then time as we know it will be altered forever! The Infinite Dragonflight have their claws dipped in this operation, and must also be slain on sight!
If his dastardly plot is achieved, then the entire last 20 years of history will have been erased! You, your loved ones, and any child that survived the events of the Cataclysm, Pandaren conflict and so many more would all vanish!
Any who claim Vandercross''s head shall receive 10,000 gold, and their choice of weapon. Return with Nightsong''s head, and be rewarded with a ring, staff, leather boots, or a cloak! Additional rewards are to be distributed from vendors for each pair of Elf ears collected, including reputation with the Bronze Dragonflight.
You are all that stands between a free world, and one dominated by the smugness of all Elves.
Good luck Champion, we need you.¡¯
After blowing on the ink, Chromie chanted the words to a spell, and sent the letter to countless mail boxes. The adventurers from the future-true timeline-would all receive it at the same time, and once accepted, could use the letter as a portal.
¡°There, finished!¡± Chromie proudly clapped her hands together with a satisfied look.
¡°Isn''t it a bit disingenuous? I watched the logs of the past, and saw now corruption or mind control. There weren''t any Infinite Dragons meddling either?¡± Dante scratched his head in confusion. The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
¡°Dante, Dante, Dante, my sweet summer child. After all this time, you still don''t get adventurers.¡± Chromie chided, and took a long sip from her juice box.
¡°Isn''t lying bad?¡± Dante asked.
¡°It''s a Time Crisis for Aman''Thul''s sake! C''mon Dante! Just throw out buzzwords like ¡®corrupted¡¯ and ¡®loot,¡¯ and the Champions of Azeroth will flock to the cause. As long as they have a moral high ground, and monetary reward, they''d kill Nozdormu if I told them to!¡± Chromie giggled into her hand.
¡°I don''t think it''s right¡¡± Dante muttered.
¡°Ahh you''ve been saying the same thing for years, but that hasn''t stopped you from snuffing babes in the cradle.¡± Chromie viciously jabbed the corner of her juice box into Dante''s side.
¡°...sometimes I wonder if preserving the ¡®true¡¯ timeline is worth it. How many more children and innocents must I slay to ¡®continue the peace.¡± Dante stared forlornly at the wall in Chromie''s room, and angrily tore down a ¡®Earth, Wind & Fire¡¯ poster.
¡°Hey, that was a collectible! Besides, that kind of talk is what formed those Infinite Dragonflight assholes in the first place. If you keep up that thinking, you''ll get corrupted!¡± Chromie''s squeaky voice yelled.
¡°Yeah¡I''m going to go get future Thrall and a few other Horde Heroes. We''ll attack Quel''Danas from the northern shore. You go get future Jaina along with some other Alliance Heroes, and attack from the south so the two sides don''t start fighting one another.¡± Dante said in a tired tone, then ported out of the room.
¡°Stupid Dante. As if I like killing kids.¡± Chromie tore into her Thrall plushie with a pout.
After another sip of her juice to calm herself down, Chromie still found herself in a foul mood.
¡°Stupid Titans, stupid Aedra. What have the Gods ever done for anyone?¡± Chromie set her torn up Thrall plushie down, and ported out to take care of her tasks.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
On the northern beaches of Quel''Danas, multiple portals opened up just outside the anti-scrying, anti-portal magic being set up at the Sunwell.
Stepping out of them, three Heroes of the Horde''s future and past made their presence known.
One of them was a middle aged Orc, his giant hammer, beige cloak, and large red prayer beads marked him out to be Thrall, founder of Orgrimmar, and former leader of the Horde.
The next Hero to step forth was also an Orc. His top knot black hair, and iconic axe revealed him to be Grommash Hellscream.
Lastly, an elderly Orc with a white ponytail, clad in midnight black plate, and wielding an identical hammer to Thrall stepped forth. It was Orgrim Doomhammer.
¡°Lok''tar ogar!¡± Thrall spoke first.
¡°Blood and thunder.¡± Grom unconsciously found himself responding.
¡°Thrall, boy why do you look so old? Grommash...the last I remember, I was impaled through the back, and handed you the title of Warchief. Now, we are on some beach? Is this some illusion of Gul''dan''s?¡± Orgrim clutched his hammer tightly as he eyed Thrall and Grom wearily.
¡°Yes, yes. It is all so strange. I had delivered the final blow on Mannoroth, and was dying in your arms, Thrall. Is this, as Doomhammer says, a trick?¡± Gromheld tightly onto his axe, and scanned his surroundings with an unbridled bloodlust.
¡°No trick my friends. A threat to the Horde, and the very fabric of reality has emerged, and I need your help.¡± Thrall held up his hands and explained.
¡°You are no longer a boy, yet the Horde has lasted so long into your middle age? Well done, Thrall.¡± Orgrim grinned, and heated his hammer behind his back.
¡°I don''t care about any of that. So long as I am breathing and my battle brother says fight, I fight!¡± Grom opened his mouth wide, and screamed out the Warsong chant.
As Grommash performed the famous Hell-scream, numerous other portals began to open up. Thousands of Horde soldiers emerged, along with them came catapults, zeppelins, and other machines of war.
The soldiers respectfully saluted Thrall, and began to set up tents, trenches, and supply lines. A defensive camp was swiftly set up, and scouts were sent out.
¡°What manner of creatures are these?¡± Orgrim cautiously readied his weapon.
¡°Trolls, Tauren, and Orcs. Don''t recognize the Horde anymore, do you old man?¡± Grom mockingly laughed.
¡°The Horde has grown strong with friendship.¡± Thrall said in pride.
Once the portals seemed like they would stop, 40 uniquely dressed individuals arrived.
With their arrival, the professional atmosphere created by the soldiers evaporated like mist on a midsummers day.
¡°Woah, is that the doomhammer?¡±
¡°I dare you to challenge Grom to a mak''gora.¡±
¡°Thrall is weaker than Grom.¡±
¡°I wish Garrosh were here, he was a true Warchief!¡±
On and on the Champions of Azeroth rattled to one another, creating chaos in the camp.
¡°Is this the unity you had boasted about?¡± Orgrim crossed his arms, and looked at Grom/Thrall with stern disapproval.
¡°...just point me in the direction of the enemy, Thrall, or else I might find myself decapitaring a few of these whelps.¡± Grom swung his axe in the air, and snarled.
¡°They are a silly lot, but the Champions of Azeroth have saved many lives. Without them the Horde would not exist. They are due their respect.¡± Thrall chastised his friends, then turned to the leader of the group.
¡°Champion! You have accepted the Bronze Dragonflights summons. I rest easy knowing you have come to this battlefield. My men and I will act as the vanguard, and provide you an opening to strike at the heart of the island. Strike hard, because the fate of Azeroth rests on your shoulders. Lok''tar ogar!¡±
¡°Lok''tar ogar!¡± The soldiers who overheard Thrall¡¯s speech saluted, then began to run towards the Elven forces.
Thrall saluted the Champions of Azeroth, then began to run after the soldiers.
¡°I can''t complain about leading the Vanguard, but what it this about leaving all the glory behind?¡± Grom complained as he ran to catch up.
¡°Typical Warsong mindset. This is why you were never Warchief.¡± Orgrim belly laughed.
¡°Just you wait until this is over. I still haven''t settled the score with you, old man!¡± Grom roared back, eliciting even more laughter from the Doomhammer.
Thrall grinned at his friends. He knew their time together would be short, as they would be sent back to experience their fates once the Sunwell''s restoration was post-poned.
But he would enjoy it for as long as it would last.
¡°Warchief, a mystical wall blocks our path!¡± A Horde officer ran up and saluted.
Thrall wanted to admonish the man, that he hadn''t been Warchief for years, but so many in the Horde still called him by that title, he had grown tired of denying it.
¡°Lok''tar ogar, blood and thunder!¡± Thrall said back, then prepared a spell.
Conjuring lightning into his hands, Thrall blasted a hole in the magic shield, allowing countless grunts and other soldiers to pour into the island.
Arrows, magic attacks, and all manner of golems rushed towards his line.
¡°Yiiieeee-Yiiieee-YeowwWWW!¡± Grom yelled, and became a bladestorm as he deflected everything sent his way, and cut through countless golems within seconds.
Grom''s actions were like a force of nature.
Unstoppable.
Thrall knew if he tried to call the berserker back, he would be just as likely to get a jab from the axe as an enemy.
Orgrim meanwhile was taciturn as he smashed down with his massive hammer. Every second, he would pause to assess the battlefield, and move where he was needed most. To help the weakest part of the Horde line.
His actions proved he was of sound mind, and why he had been so successful as a leader.
Thrall, meanwhile, was blasting apart the golems, and keeping his eyes out for the Elves. So far, they were keeping their distance, and harrying them. As if they wanted to buy as much time as possible.
Thrall grimaced, the return of the Sunwell must be stopped!
¡°Forward! For the Horde!¡± Thrall roared as he charged forth.
¡°For the Horde!¡±
~~~~~~~~~~
AN: while there are some seeming game mechanics this chapter, the adventurers do not have infinite revivals, or any kind of system, or relation to Earth.
TLDR: Varrus is basically a raid boss this arc, lol.
Chapter 122
Whilst the Horde forces summoned from the future were attacking from the north, the Alliance was launching a desperate assault from the south.
It was desperate, because the Alliance forces were limited to less than 3,000 soldiers. Time travel was a dangerous concept, and moving one, let alone a thousand individuals invited backlash from the forces of the universe.
The strike team put together by Chromie was designed to punch a hole in the Elven defenses, and sucker punch them while they were celebrating the return of the Sunwell.
Yet the 3,000 troops summoned were no slouches.
Five large gunships took the lead, and thrummed with the power of Gnomish engineering. Shaped like boats, these vessels growled forth into the morning fog like beasts on the prowl. Turbine engines roared as they powered propellers, and the constant shoveling of coal into furnaces took place to keep these behemoths afloat.
Emerging from a portal, a super sized gunship made its presence known.
Where the other gunships were the average size of a ship of the line, this vessel was like that of an aircraft carrier.
It was the Alliance''s ultimate weapon.
The super heavy class carrier:
Indomitable
A constant stream of gyrocopters, and Gnomish Bombers (biplanes) swarmed around the carrier, and an incredible noise permeated the skies.
The Indomitable cast a shadow overland, yet it did not hide the Alliance ground forces.
Assembled down below were the finest units the Alliance could muster on such short notice.
A regiment of Elite mounted knights led from the front, and formed the advance party.
¡°Forward men! This is our chance to show the traitors to the Alliance what real courage is! Chaaarge!¡± A mounted officer waved his sword, and then slammed his helmet shut once his mount moved forward.
Following after him, a great big plume of dust rose into the air, and the ground quaked as the full might and fury of the cavalry bore down upon some Elven positions.
Covering the knights on the left wing were a dozen Dwarven steam tanks. Their massive wheels ground the soil into mud, and great bellows of steam wafted into the air as they churned forth.
¡°Open fire, open fire!!¡± One Dwarf roared into a handheld radio, and transmitted the message between his unit.
Almost as one, artillery shells began to blast out of turrets, and distant explosions rumbled across the land.
The same Dwarven leader turned on the speakers to his tank, and shouted a battle cry.
¡°For Khaz Modan!¡±
Bringing up the right flank was the rest of the army. Human foot men clad in plate armor, and cloaked rifle toting Dwarves made up this body.
¡°For the blue and gold boys!¡± An officer slammed his sword into his shield, and jogged forth.
¡°Sod that, I want me a pretty Elven wife!¡±
¡°For Jenkins¡¯ pretty wife!¡±
¡°Huaaah!¡±
The officer looked at the men and women under his command a little flabbergasted, but he didn''t have the luxury to care about that as spells, explosives, and arrows began to come their way.
¡°Look alive people, this is the real thing! Keep going forward, and we might just-¡± The officer got out, but then was turned to cinder as an Arcane Cannon got a bead on him.
¡°Captain''s down! Forward forward!¡± Another soldier raised the banner of a golden lion on a blue background, and led the men towards the enemy.
Behind the soldiers, 40 Champions of Azeroth followed. They sidestepped, and dodged the very worst attacks, and had a priest heal them on the spot if they were weakened. Meanwhile, they ignored all of the bleeding, screaming, and dying soldiers as they made their way towards the center of the island.
¡°Do you think Sylvanas will be there?¡±
¡°Ah, now there''s a woman I could hate all day.¡±
¡°Hey, hey, a guy here named Jenkins died, you think he''s a cousin of yours, Leroy?¡±
While all of this was going down, three Heroes of the future and past sternly regarded the advance from within the command room of the Indomitable.
Among the occupants was the aged King, Terenas Menethil. The father to Arthas, brooded over a scrying orb, and was busily adjusting the course of the army, and assigning targets as they came.
The orb depicted a real time display of the events taking place outside of the airship.
Clenching his fist, Terenas pounded the table as the mounted knights began to run into runes that were scattered around the island. Furthermore, once he had ordered them to adjust to go around these magic runes, they had run headlong into hidden mines!
Over a quarter of the Elite force had perished before their lances even tasted the blood of the enemy.
¡°The hidden nature of the Elves has proven time and time again to have been a detriment to the Alliance. If only we had listened to the prophet, then we could have at least left the Elves to the Scourge.¡± Terenas spoke in a heavy tone. His charismatic, deep bass voice suffused the room with an aura of power, of leadership, and of calm fury.
The grey haired man was wrinkly, and looked as if he might fold from a brisk wind, yet a thin film of Light coated his form. He may look weak, but the master of Lordaeron still had the strength of a Hero about him.
¡°Yes, they are quite greedy for power too, aren''t they? I relinquished my power for the good of the realm, it is time for the Elves to do so as well.¡± Aegwynn, mother to Medivh, and former Guardian of Tirisfal said in an admonishing tone.
The old enchantress looked like a blonde in her 20''s, and spoke in a cultured voice.
¡°I only hope they see reason. If we can resolve things diplomatically with the least amount of casualties, then that would be the best outcome.¡± The middle aged blonde sorceress, Jaina Proudmoore said in a tired, yet wishful tone.
¡°Older you may be, yet ever the optimist. I see why Arthas was interested in you girl. But we are too far in to talk like that now.¡± Teneras sternly pointed towards the scrying orb, which depicted the vast number of Human casualties that were beginning to increase by the second.
¡°Yes, this Varrus Vandercross character is too dangerous to live.¡± Aegwynn added on, and frowned as the scrying orb she was watching depicted a different scene of destruction. Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
While Teneras had been focused on the ground, she had been observing the air.
Two floating towers edged their way closer and closer to the gunships¡¯ formation, and they had cannons poking out of every side. In fact, the cannons were so numerous, the tower could best be described as resembling a porcupine.
Whichever Elf had designed this weapon had a sick mind, as enchanted instruments were playing aboard the craft, and were broadcasting music that could be heard both near and far.
(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GGU1P6lBW6Q)
But what really concerned Aegwynn most about these floating twin towers, was that they were piloted by what seemed to be the same matrix that made up a golems core. Meaning, these floating weapons platforms were entirely autonomous,
Not only that, but they were well shielded as well.
Already, they had survived the broadside of several gunships, as well as the concentrated firepower of dozens of gyrocopters/biplanes.
Yet when the towers returned fire, they unleashed a seemingly never ending deluge of fire balls mixed with electro bolts.
Upon the opening engagement, a fifth of the air force had been taken out of the sky, and one of the gunships had been blasted to smithereens.
¡°Yes, Teneras is correct, dear. It is too late to go back. The threshold has been crossed, and the point of no return has been removed from the map. We either persevere, or die trying.¡± Aegwynn proclaimed, she then stood up, and a heavy aura of Arcane energy began to spread forth.
¡°...very well. You two are right. I''ve known a few good Elves, and hate to see suffering. But I must admit, there are a few of them I''d like to see suffer after what they did to Theramore.¡± Jaina also rose from her seat, and had a look of resolve on her face.
¡°Send me down. I need to be with the men.¡± Teneras demanded.
Jaina flicked her hand, and teleported the old King down with the knights.
Emerging from a portal, King Terenas was a beacon of Light. Holy energy radiated off of him in waves.
Many of the knights that had gone into a rout due to the overwhelming deluge of arrows, magical bolts, and mines had turned around to listen to the aged monarch.
¡°Rally! Rally sons and daughters of man! It is we who will decide the fates of Man. Not some feckless Elves that cower at the mere sight of grime or mud!¡±
¡°Aye!¡± Some of-but not all of-the men cheered.
Terenas, noticing this, raised his sword, and sliced cleanly through an 8ft tall Iron Golem. He then stood upon its remains, and held his sword high.
¡°Are you not Elites of the Alliance, true veterans of a dozen battles?¡± Teneras asked in a questioning tone.
¡°Aye.¡± The men answered back in quiet voices.
¡°I did not note fear in the eyes of the Dwarves as they passed us by. I ask you again, are you not Elites of the Alliance, true veterans of a dozen battles?!¡± Terenas asked again, this time with some heat in it.
¡°Aye!¡± The men clamored, and yelled.
Teneras grinned down at them. He saw fear in their eyes, he saw mud covering their gear, he saw the wounded biting back screams of pain, and comrades covering one another from bolts of magic or arrows.
They were his.
Jumping upon a riderless mount, Teneras unleashed a Protective Aura all around himself, releasing a thin film of energy onto the unit. His action didn''t stop there, as a Blessing of Might fell upon each man, and horse, doubling their strength.
¡°Soldiers, squires, knights¡Men of the Alliance! In the name of the Holy Light, CHAAAAARGE!!!¡± Teneras took the lead, and ran straight towards a large clump of Iron Golems.
¡°For the Alliance!¡± The knights roared with him, and followed with him.
Explosions, and the sound of twisted metal echoed throughout the southern reaches of Quel''Danas as the heat of battle spread across all fronts.
With Teneras at the helm, hundreds of Iron Golems were easily torn to bits. Furthermore, his aura greatly diffused the power behind the mines and runes that littered the ground. Any knight caught in these explosions was merely rocked in place, or minorly injured instead of instantly killed.
Teneras was making great progress, and thought they might even reach the center of the island. That the Champions of Azeroth may not even be needed!
He was at the height of his optimism when a dozen of his troops were suddenly cut down in a flash.
From within the ranks of the golems, a dark knight clad in midnight armor stepped forth.
His enchanted blade was black, and seemed to suck all the light out of the atmosphere.
¡°Thaladred the Darkener.¡± Teneras muttered in hate.
His family had told stories of an ancient Elf that killed without remorse. They told of an arrogant man who would hold bridges, allowing none to pass unless he had been dueled to his satisfaction.
Countless Humans had fallen prey to his blade over the millenia.
Pulling at the reins of his horse, Teneras charged forth with righteous fury.
¡°Today is the day of your end, Darkener!¡± Teneras roared.
¡°Ah, another Menethil. I''d recognize that Protective Aura anywhere. I welcome the entertainment.¡± Thaladred mocked.
¡°Have at you!¡± Teneras raised his blade high, and engaged in the duel of his life.
~~~~~~~~~
Meanwhile, back within the Indomitable, Aegwynn and Jaina had watched Teneras''s speech, and were preparing to take action themselves.
¡°It''s up to us to hold the line, dear. Best of luck to you.¡± Aegwynn nodded at Jaina, then ported herself to the top of the flying carrier.
From her position, she saw 4 more floating buildings slowly emerge from the fog. The way they positioned themselves, it looked as if they were going to match the gunships.
Unlike the two ¡®porcupine¡¯ autonomous towers, these buildings had gunners operating Arcane Cannons, and there were mages actively maintaining shields and enchantments.
Aegwynn was observing these events with an enhanced magical sight, and as she was analyzing the enemy forces, she locked eyes with an old acquaintance.
¡°Alistair Bloodsworn. You sat on the Council of Six, and acted as an administrator of Dalaran for years. For the sake of the camaraderie we once shared, stand aside, and order your mages down.¡¯ Aegwynn demanded, her voice magically crossed the distance, and it sounded like the two mages were having a conversation in the same room.
¡°I cherished those years of peace, of educating young minds. But you, Aegwynn, are the last person I would heed council from. It is through your son that the Dark Portal was opened. The calamities of the last 20 years can be traced back to your pride and arrogance. If you had relinquished the powers of the Guardian, none of this would have happened.¡± Alistair''s voice boomed across the early fog of the morning.
¡°Then you give me no choice. Goodbye, Alistair.¡± Aegwynn harrumphed, then lifted up a brightly staff.
Countless purple dots emerged from the aether. and then thousands of tennis-ball sized motes of pure Arcane rushed towards Alistair''s position like rain in a storm.
In response, Bloodsworn had summoned a dozen fire phoenixes the size of sparrows. These fiery apparitions gobbled up the incoming attack like birds consuming locusts in a swarm.
Each Arcane bolt consumed spawned an additional phoenix, further metastasizing Alistair''s spell.
¡°You don''t think dueling the Guardian would be so easy, do you?¡± Aegwynn''s voice thrummed with power and the air trembled as she flexed her mana.
¡°A hollow title given to one more focused on power than study. You died years ago, Aegwynn, and no longer hold such a title, whilst I have had time to learn from your mistakes.¡± Alistair calmly replied.
During their duel, the Arcane Towers, and Alliance gunships were bombarding one another in a frenzy of magic and Dwarven ingenuity.
Bright flashes of white, blue, and scarlet colored the early morning sky, and reflected off the fog. Explosions rang throughout the air, and the sound of men screaming, swearing, and cheering reached the heavens.
The battle for the skies over Quel¡¯Danas had begun.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Whilst the duel between the Grand Magister of the Blood Elves, and the former Guardian was underway, Jaina was still within the command room.
Jaina sighed to herself as she saw an oncoming swarm of dragonhawk knights, and one of her past suitors, Kael¡¯Thas Sunstrider.
The arrogant Prince had turned to the Demons, and became uncaring of the world. The fact she couldn''t permanently end him here and now for the sake of the timeline irked her to no end.
But everything she did, it was for peace.
¡°For Azeroth.¡± Jaina muttered aloud to herself as she targeted Kael¡¯Thas with one of her most powerful spells.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
AN: Read 25 chapters ahead at:
Chapter 123
Whilst the Elven forces were under siege, Varrus was a little more than a quarter of the way done, slotting the Mana Stones into their proper positions.
He was about to place the 189th crystal where the system ui indicated it should go, when he felt the ground shake, and a scorching bright orange light on the horizon.
Vast waves of ambient mana spilled from the south, and sonic booms constantly interrupted the serene atmosphere of this holy site.
Stumbling slightly forward due to the disturbances, Varrus wanted to gloat to his wife, and others who had doubted him, and labeled him paranoid. Damned smug Elves just wanted to party, and pat themselves on the back for a job well done.
But Varrus couldn''t find the will to mock his friends for their optimistic outlook. He was just thankful that pretty much every Hero and Elite had gathered for this event, and that they were taking the defense of the Sunwell seriously this time.
Shaking his head, he wished he was wrong, but it was better to be over prepared than caught with your pants down and enemies banging on your door.
Varrus sighed one last time, then turned to Rho''dan, who was standing nearby.
¡°Rho''dan, status report. Who is attacking us? How did they arrive without our scouts knowing? From the sound of it, it is a two pronged attack?¡± Varrus questioned whilst he continued to place Mana Stones within their designated positions.
¡°A few thousand Orcs, Trolls, and a race of cow men bearing the Horde insignia are advancing from the north. They are led by Orgrim Doomhammer, Grom Hellscream, and the newest Warchief, Thrall. As for how they arrived, scouting reports suggest portals opened up just outside of the Rune Stones canceling field. So far, we hold the numerical advantage, and are holding them in place.¡±
¡°Doomhammer! Shouldn''t he be dead?!¡± Varrus exclaimed in confused aggravation.
¡®What''s with this timeline?! Did Doomhammer never die? But then why would Thrall be Warchief? And Hellscream, shouldn''t he have fought Mannoroth by now? Why in the Hell are the Horde attacking us in the first place?¡¯
This entire situation stank. His instincts were screaming Someone was plotting against them, but who?
Varrus stroked his chin in thought, then looked to Rho''dan with an expression that demanded answers.
¡°Doomhammer was reported dead. He was slain freeing Orcs from one of the concentration camps.¡± Rho''dan said while reading some information off his scrying orb. ¡°It is, however, possible that he survived, and the Humans were premature in celebrating his demise.¡± Rho''dan shrugged his shoulders in a ¡®what-can-you-do¡¯ pose.
¡°And the people from the south, don''t tell me it''s the Alliance?¡± Varrus voiced his suspicion.
¡°An accurate guess, Highlord.¡± Rho''dan lightly bowed.
¡°One of their leaders is Jaina Proudmoore, right? Then going off the prior logic, the Alliance forces should be led by two other Heroes. Hmm, perhaps Anduin Lothar, and Uther Lightbringer?¡± Varrus tapped the side of his face as he speculated.
¡°One for three, a very good guess.¡± Rho''dan politely clapped his hands. ¡°The other two Alliance Heroes are King Terenas of Lordaeron, and the former Guardian of Tirisfal, Aegwynn.¡±
Varrus''s eyebrows twitched, this was beginning to sound like a raid. As if he was some big boss, or threat to ¡®the universe¡¯ to be stopped.
What the hell?
Varrus began to feel a smidgen of panic at the thought, as anyone who made themselves an enemy of the Alliance and Horde at the same time met an unfortunate end.
Clenching his fist, Varrus clamped down on that emotion, and continued with his task of placing down Mana Stones.
Clearly whatever entity was against him, they were trying to halt the restoration of the Sunwell. What he should be doing right now, is moving as fast as possible to disrupt their plans.
Locking the 200th crystal in place, Varrus started to pick up the pace.
After a minute of silent thought and introspection, Varrus raised another question.
¡°The Alliance and Horde forces, do they have an oddly dressed unit, one composed of a mish mash of armor types?¡± Varrus pressed.
¡°Right again, Highlord. There are a group of 40 Horde, and 40 Alliance members matching such a description. Your insight into this matter is on point this morning.¡± Rho''dan praised.
¡°Enough with the flattery, Rho''dan. I want our forces to prioritize these units. Pay special attention to if, after death, any of the members in this unit return from the grave.¡± Varrus slashed his hand down vertically, and spoke in a harsh tone to get his point across.
¡°As you wish, my Lord.¡± Rho''dan nodded, and didn¡¯t even question Varrus''s strange request. The stalwart redheaded guard then began to send out orders via his scrying orb.
Meanwhile, Varrus was internally seething. It seemed that this truly was a raid. He hoped that the adventurers didn''t have infinite respawns like the player characters did.
While he was busily slotting the crystals in place, Nightsong and Syra were also nearby, watching over his back.
Curiously, he saw the signs of battle hunger on his wife''s face. Her fingers constantly twitches, and reached for the handle of her buster sword, only to go back to resting at her side. Her eyes were focused on the northern front, and a look of incredible focus manifested in her eyes.
¡°Syra, my Star, if you want to go, then go.¡± Varrus suggested.
Syra rapidly blinked her eyes, then silently stared at Varrus intensely.
¡°Ah ha ha. Forget I asked.¡± Varrus let out a hollow chuckle, and resumed his duties.
While he kept working, he noticed Nightsong was keeping up with her hobby, and was drawing the scene of Varrus dropping the stones into their correct position.
It was a little weird to him, but her artistry was pretty good, and the style was reminiscent of a manga. If there ever came a time for him when he had the luxury of peace, he may just ask her to draw for fun. After all, life wasn''t all about war and making babies, right?
Varrus chuckled to himself as he imagined a world where Elves conquered the world through their super model physiques, and won a cultural victory through music, plays, and manga. Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.
It was during this brief moment of relaxation, that Rho''dan came up to him with a serious expression on his face.
¡°I have good news and bad news. Reports have just come in, the enemies you were concerned about cannot return from beyond the grave.¡± Rho''dan saluted, and shared a brief clip of a squad of Highborn being overrun by the 40 man raid group.
Mages, warriors, and rogues engaged in mortal combat against one another, and while the Elven Elites put up a good fight, they were ultimately slain. However, a pair of adventurers had dropped dead.
To Varrus''s POV, none of the Alliance adventurers stopped to resurrect their compatriot.
¡°That is technically good news. Can''t say I''m happy we lost a squad to verify that information though. As for the bad news?¡± Varrus cocked an ear to the side, preparing himself for the worst.
¡°Lady Liadrin has been defeated by Grom Hellscream. When he was about to deliver the killing blow, a Dragon swooped in, and put her in stasis. In the south, Thaladred was last seen dueling Terenas, but his whereabouts have gone dark. No one knows where he is. Between these two developing scenes, the Horde and Alliance have punctured a hole in our defenses. We are still holding the majority of their armies back, and in fact, are slowly crushing them due to our numerical advantage. However, Hellscream is leading 40 adventurers from the north, whilst Terenas is leading 40 from the south.¡± Rho''dan succinctly reported.
¡°Blast! Dragons?! What color were their scales? No, wait, the enemy is coming here?¡± Varrus exclaimed in shocked surprise.
¡°Bronze, Highlord. They are the Dragons associated with time. And yes, by my estimates, they should arrive at the edge of the crater within 5 to 20 minutes.¡±
¡®Fuck!¡¯ Varrus internally swore.
He had placed 250 Mana Stones down, half of the required 500. It would take him about half an hour to finish the rest!
¡°I will take on Hellscream.¡± Syra spoke up.
¡°I suppose me and the Crossguard will defend the south, then.¡± Rho''dan added on.
Varrus ignored Rho''dan, and focused on Syra.
His beautiful blonde wife was brimming with murderous intent. The way she spoke the Orc''s name, it sounded like there was a history there.
Blinking his eyes, Varrus slapped his forehead. He totally forgot that Syra fought in the Orc War. That she, along with the Illidari Council had battled enemy Heroes, including Grom Hellscream.
That legendary Orc had slain two demigods in his lifetime. He was just a regular ass warrior wielding a big axe. Yet he accomplished a feat that few Heroes could dream of accomplishing.
Grom Hellscream was truly a Hero of legend. In this universe, he was a mythical figure, like Hercules, or Kratos. Fueled by his hatred and a cup full of Demon blood, he was that guy.
And his wife wanted to take Hellscream on backed by 40 adventurers?!
As much as he trusted in, and believed in his wife, sending her off to do battle with Hellscream felt like he was pushing her towards an early grave!
¡°Absolutely no-¡± Varrus got out, but was interrupted.
¡°I must do this. When we first fought, I was young and inexperienced. Nothing but a mindless tool crafted meticulously by my mother. I was sharp, but brittle. Now that I have you, my resolve has been reforged in the fires of love. I have something to fight for, something worth coming home for.¡± Syra spoke with a heat and passion that Varrus rarely heard from the girl.
Her long blonde hair swayed in the wind, and the mana in the air swirled around her in a mini vortex. When she spoke of him and their love, the mana in her body spiked, and even surpassed his own!
¡°I.¡± Varrus began, then halted as he saw the determination, the passion, and the physical need to do this.
¡°...Just don''t die on me. Don''t break my heart.¡± Varrus gripped her hand, and stared deeply into her eyes. He felt like he would cry at any moment at the thought of her loss.
Syra was what held his psyche together. She may be a little crazy, a little murder happy, and quick to kill. But so what? It was a crazy world, and that kind of attitude is why he was still alive.
¡°You are my everything.¡± Varrus clunked his forehead on hers, and whispered.
¡°Do not cry, my Sun. I have been constantly training in the equipment you provided. I am faster than ever.¡± Syra confidently exclaimed, and wiped away tear off his cheek.
Varrus held a hand up to his face, not even realizing he had done so.
¡°Haaah. My wife. You are so cute, so adorable, but my heart. Ah. You are one hell of a woman, Syra.¡± Varrus clutched at his chest, and looked at Syra in a mixture of pain and love.
He hated that she was going to go. That they couldn''t face this Orc legend together. But he needed to remain here, and finish the Sunwell''s restoration.
¡°Wait for me.¡± Syra kissed Varrus on the lips, then turned away with a flourish.
Following behind her, the four Heroes of the Illidari Council marched with confidence. A few Hundred House Vandercross Elites also set out with her, and were reinforced by four of the levitating Towers of Jenga.
Silently smiling, Varrus took one last look at her backside, and sighed. With the death of so many Heroes over the last couple of months, including Queen Lana''thel, Ranger Captain Ariel, King Genn Greymane, and the Worgen leader, Varrus had gained plenty of Grand Soul Gems. At this point, Syra''s entire kit had been fitted with extremely powerful enchantments.
He only hoped her training had paid off.
¡°Wait. Take this. It will ward against the shifting sands of time.¡± Nightsong called out to Syra, and tossed her an amulet.
Syra caught it, and flashed Nightsong an appreciative smile, then sauntered on her way.
¡°Good luck, Syra! And if it looks like you can''t win, then either stall him until I restore the Sunwell, or retreat. All that matters is that you live, you got that?!¡± Varrus yelled at her back, hoping his message got through.
Syra flashed him one last smile, then confidently left the crater of the Sunwell, and headed up north.
¡®That woman.¡¯ Varrus sighed morosely to himself.
Nightsong then tossed Varrus, and Rho''dan an amulet as well.
When it landed in Varrus''s hands, he quickly placed it in its inventory to see its effects.
[Protects the wearer from time dilation, and time effects.]
Varrus raised an eyebrow, if he disenchanted this, he wondered what kind of effect it would have on a weapon. Typically, Skyrim gear provided a defensive effect, whilst weapon enchantments became offensive. He''d have to play around with this later.
¡°I didn''t know you were skilled at enchanting?¡± Varrus questioned.
¡°We have a long time to get to know one another, Varrus. I look forward to sharing more about myself.¡± Nightsong smiled at him.
Varrus was a little touched by her, and felt bad that he had basically been afk for the past month, solving the Gilneas civil war.
Internally, he decided he would have to find some time to spend with her. His experience on Earth had mostly been positive with his parents. They loved one another greatly. He couldn''t imagine the kind of trauma this woman was undergoing, what with her sacrificing her life to save him as a child. Now, her son was all grown up, had a family, and an established career. It was quite sad, really.
Varrus was going to say something, but Rho''dan coughed in his hand, and signaled to Varrus.
¡°I am looking forward to the triumphant return of the Sunwell, Highlord. General Nightsong.¡± Rho''dan nodded, then departed to the south to confront Terenas.
¡°You have a good House, Varrus.¡± Nightsong smiled.
¡°Thank you. I would be lost without them.¡± Varrus smiled back.
¡°Good. Finish the ritual. I shall watch over you.¡± Nightsong comforted, and then began to sing a beautiful, wordless hymn.
Varrus felt his spirits uplifted, and began to work twice as fast. The Sunwell was all that mattered right now. The sooner it came online, the sooner he could support Syra and Rho''dan.
Lifting another Mana Stone in place, Varrus had reached 300 out of 500. He was almost there!
¡®Just stay safe, Syra, if anything should happen to you¡the Horde would become nothing but a memory.¡¯
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
AN: Read 25 chapters ahead at:
Chapter 124
(Sometime before Syra set off)
Grom Hellscream, leader of the Warsong Clan, and Champion of the Horde brought his axe down again in a fury.
His weapon met the golden hue of an enchanted weapons again and again until he knocked it from the tiny redheaded Elves grasp.
Kicking forward, he knocked the woman to the ground, forcing her to tumble and churn up a thick layer of dirt.
¡°Pick it up!¡± Grom snarled as he flicked the discarded sword towards his opponent.
The girl had a fire in her eyes, and called the weapon to her.
¡°Fae''shallah.¡± The woman hissed in her flute-sounding tongue, and rose to meet him.
Grom didn''t need to know the meaning behind the words to know it was an insult.
¡°Good! I would hate for one so skilled to be weak of will!¡± Grom savagely grinned, then ran at her once more.
The little Elf raised her shield, and slammed it on the ground, sending a shockwave of Holy Light towards him.
Grom performed a summersault flip over the attack, and swung his axe forward with a great deal of force.
In response, the Elf created a barrier of Light, which blocked one, two, three of his strikes.
However, upon the fourth hit, Grom put all his warrior''s rage into this attack. As a result, the barrier suddenly cracked like an egg striking the pavement.
The Elf seemed not to expect this sudden development, and was caught on the back foot, trying to interpose her sword or shield in front of his axe.
It looked as if he wasn''t going to make it!
The damned Elf smirked at him, and for a moment, Grom imagined the figure of that Elf. An old scar on his inner rib ached from the thought of her.
At that moment, an apocalyptic rage took ahold of him as he recalled the unresolved animosity of that day.
Suddenly, the Orcs dying around him to the Elves all seemed like Warsong clan members. That what he did must be done to achieve victory!
¡°Uuuuu-aaaaarghhhh! FOR THE HORDE!¡± Grom roared, his voice boomed across the battlefield, boosting moral, and at the same time, acted as a sonic attack, overwhelming the Elve''s sensitive ears.
Willing his axe to move faster, Grom felt the rage flow through his body as if he were its avatar.
His opponent''s ears twitched, causing her to flinch backward. Her eyes then widened in shock as Grom slipped his weapon underneath her defenses, and struck a rending blow into her armor.
Metal shrieked, and enchantments burst as the full fury power attack of Gorehowl plunged into her breast, and feasted upon the sweet nectar of flesh.
As she lay on the dirt, desperately trying to heal herself, and gasping as blood poured from her chest, Grom slowly stepped forth.
The sound of his boots crunching upon the gravel seemed to break the Elf from her concentration, and her healing spell fizzled out into nothing.
¡°Weak. You are nothing like her.¡± Grom scowled in disappointment.
Whether that was towards himself, or the girl, he knew not.
But what he did know, is that this duel was unsatisfying. He needed something more challenging. He needed to find that blonde she-devil, and avenge his honor.
Raising his axe high, Grom brought it down, only for the sound of flapped wings to drae his attention away.
Looking up, a Dragon appeared, and a new barrier to intercept his attack sprang into place.
¡°What. Is the meaning of this?¡± Grom slowly drawled, and voiced his displeasure in a deep bass.
¡°Liadrin is necessary for the future timeline. Apologies, Hellscream, I cannot allow you slay her.¡± The Dragon bowed his head, then scooped her up, and began to fly away.
¡°Allow? Allow? Since when did the Horde bow down to overgrown lizards?¡± Grom pointed his axe at the Dragon, and then lunged at the beast with the intent to kill.
¡°Grom!¡± Thrall barked, and battered him aside with his hammer.
¡°Why did you get in the way of my duel, brother?¡± Grom said with some bitterness as he eyed the fleeing Dragon hatefully.
¡°They are our allies, Grom. Without their help, there is no Horde.¡± Thrall placed a shoulder on Grom''s shoulder, and patiently explained.
Grom''s chest was heaving as the battle rage somewhat subsided.
As he looked around, and watched the Trolls, and Tauren fighting alongside the Orcs, he didn''t know what to make of it.
This was not his Horde.
Placing his hand over where Mannoroth''s blade was about to strike before he was sent here, Grom clenched his fists.
And this was not his Thrall!
He had grown beyond being used by Gul''dan, by the Burning Legion. Destroying Mannoroth was his ultimate redemption, to break the chains that bound their race.
But here they were, fighting in some alternate timeline at the behest of Dragons! Creatures that snatched him away from an honorable death no less!
The more he thought about it, the angrier he got! Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.
¡°Grom, brother. I need you to stay focused. We are about to punch a hole in their defenses. It would be my honor if you lead the Champions of Azeroth, and save the Horde.¡± Thrall squeezed Grom¡¯s shoulder, and looked at him with entreating eyes.
Grom softly growled, yet the look of this Thrall so much resembled that of his own. Both were hopeful, and yearned for the Horde to succeed.
¡°I will go.¡± Grom shook off Thrall¡¯s hand, then turned towards the center of the island.
¡°Blood and thunder. They will be with you shortly after I inform them of their mission.¡± Thrall saluted, then left to rejoin the battle.
Grom took a moment to let the so-called Champions catch up, and took a breather.
Analyzing the state of the battlefield, Grom recognized that a narrow gap had formed in the Elven line, and he had a straight shot at the heart of the enemy.
However, a casual glance around told him of the heavy toll the Horde had paid to achieve this beachhead.
Thousands of warriors lay dead on the ground, as almost half of their initial number had been slain.
The Elves were killing the Horde forces in large thanks to their magic, bows, artillery, and floating islands. Most of the soldiers couldn''t even close with the enemy.
It disgusted him.
Grom spat to the side, disgusted with their cowardly ways. The only true method to do battle, was with a melee weapon in hand, and the subtle tickle of wind on your bare flesh.
This is what any true Orc wished for. Fair combat decided by ones own courage and skill. Not from some fancy armor or magic trick. If one were to wear an enchanted artifact, then let it be taken from the flesh or bone of a powerful enemy. To clad oneself in metal was the height of cowardice.
¡°Grom Hellscream, we are reporting as per Thrall¡¯s orders!¡± An Orc fully encased in glowing enchanted plate armor nodded.
Following behind the leader were a mish-mash of uncoordinated adventurers dressed in similar attire.
¡°That''s Warchief Thrall to you.¡± Grom growled.
He may not care for this future-Thrall, but he still deserved some respect. Especially coming from a coward like the Orc in front of him. With weaklings like this amongst the so-called Champions of Azeroth, Grom wondered if the plate wearing Orc was really a Peon underneath all that metal.
¡°You didn''t know? Well that makes sense, since you died so long ago. Thrall hasn''t been Warchief for years. He gave up the post a while back to your son, but after he killed that traitor, he-¡±
Grom halted the adventure by reaching his hand out, and clamping it tightly around his throat.
¡°My. Son?¡± Grom calmly questioned.
¡°He''s stronger than he looks! He grabbed the Captain so easily!¡± One adventurer laughed.
¡°He''s not so tough. We killed Ragnaros, right? Why don''t we loot him? Gorehowl is a legendary weapon.¡± Another spoke up.
¡°I already have Gorehowl, and so does La''Gash. The Bronze Dragons are pretty good with getting loot from across the timelines. Garrosh was strong, but we got the traitor in the end, right?¡± Another Orc boasted.
Grom saw that several of the Champions were wielding his axe, and something inside him snapped.
¡®Thrall, what have you done to the Horde!?¡¯ Grom internally howled.
He was about to execute the Captain in front of him in a blind fury, but his ears twitched, and he lifted the adventurer up, and used him as a shield.
A powerful bolt of magic struck the armored Orc in the back, and drilled a smoking hole in his enchanted armor.
Emerging from the gap in the Elven line, five Heroes flanked by 200 Elites began to advance towards them.
Grom narrowed his eyes, as he recognized those Heroes. They were the one who always followed-
Reacting on instinct, Grom slashed behind his back, and met a giant sword in a mighty collision.
His mouth widened into an impossibly wide grin. This was it. This is the enemy he had most wanted to face other than Mannoroth. Who cared about the pathetic nature of the Horde adventurers when the subject of his rage was before him?
Powerful purple and golden lights poured out of her blade, and pressed him back.
He felt that if any of that purple energy touched his skin, he would turn into a mummified husk. Furthermore, this girl was faster than he had ever imagined.
¡°Mak''gora! I challenge you, Syra Greathollow¡± Grom shouted, making his intentions clear to the surrounding Horde adventurers that this duel was not to be interrupted.
Surprisingly, the Elf responded in kind, and shouted out ¡°Mak''gora¡± too!
Grom felt excitement in his heart as he faced her oncoming attacks.
Her sword cleaved by his face, and barely missed his tusks. Grom felt the whoosh of air on his face due to the extreme speeds of her sword, and could taste death on the edge of his tongue.
How exciting!
This. This is what he lived for!
¡°You have learned new tricks since we last met 20 years ago, hah ha hah. So have I.¡± Grom chuckled coldly.
His muscles began to swell, sweat exploded out all his pours, and a red aura coated his form.
¡°RAGE!¡± Grom screamed to the heavens.
His axe glowed brightly as he channeled all the energy in his body outward, and he brought it down upon her sword with a mighty overhead crunch.
¡°Hahahahaha!¡± Grom joyously laughed as their blades collided again and again.
He saw a somewhat similar mad expression on her face, and he knew he had met with a kindred spirit.
So many Orcs claimed to live for battle, but few of them had the mettle to match weapons with him!
As for the Elves, he stomped almost every one of them he met into the grounds few dared to meet him in melee.
But this girl! This blonde lady had been the only one to score a blow on him in all his time on Azeroth! How he relished this rematch.
Cutting diagonally, his axe went beyond her defenses, and cut into her golden shield, feeding his rage. At the same time, she also went all out on offense, and the purple of her sword ate away at his aura, and diminished it greatly.
Every clash, the safety nets surrounding them were diminishing second by second. Soon, neither of them would be able to rely on their respective shields, and it would come down to who could outskill the other!
Grom and Syra had repeatedly clashed, all the while, the screams and shouts of dying warriors resounded all around them.
He was in the middle of an empowered charge, when a nearby Troll shot magical arrows at Syra, forcing her to block.
Snarling in rage, he altered the target of his charge, and came up to the Troll at super speeds.
The blue-skinned man could only widen his eyes as Grom rammed his skull into the Troll''s head.
¡°Ouch, watchu do that for mon?!¡± The Troll complained, and spat out a mouthful of blood.
¡°Mak''gora. Even the Elves understand the sanctity of the duel.¡± Grom snarled.
¡°Yeah, whatever mon, da fate of da Horde is on da line. We gotz to kill Vandacross before he restores the Sunwell.¡± The Troll pushed Grom back, and snapped a crooked tusk back in place.
¡°I am the Champion of the Horde, show some respect.¡± Grom shoulder bumped the Troll to the ground.
¡°Yeah yeah mon, big Hero. Yousa gonna go be a big Hero when you return to the past. The name Hellscream has a good legacy.¡± The Troll muttered under his breath and chuckled.
Grom saw red, and decapitated the Troll.
¡°If you''re done disciplining the trash, then raise your axe.¡± Syra spoke from a distance away.
¡°Your Orcish isn''t half bad, girl. But I care only for the language of blades.¡± Grom huffed, and charged once more.
Syra smiled at him in a smug, superior way that drove Grom''s bloodlust to new heights.
By the spirits he couldn''t wait to tear her head from her spine!
~~~~~~~~~
AN: Read 25 chapters ahead at:
Chapter 125
Syra breathed heavily as she ducked beneath a heavy side swipe, her sword parried it to the side just in time. A lock of blonde hair flicked off into the wind as the sharp slice of Gorehowl missed her by a fingers width.
At the same time, Hellscream reached towards her with his offhand, and moved to grasp her neck.
Leaning forward into her duck, she suddenly performed a Leap of Faith, and rammed her Light empowered skull into the jaw of the Orc, sending him flying backward.
Slamming his axe into the earth, Hellscream anchored himself down, and let the blade drag him across the dirt like a plow.
¡°YEEEEAAAOWWW-OLOLOL-LOOOH!!!¡± Hellscream roared in excitement, then charged at her.
Syra had anticipated such a maneuver, and protected her ears with the Light.
Many other Elves were not so fortunate, and fell over, or clutched their heads in pained grimaces as the sonic warcry carried across the barren, rocky landscape that was the Isle of Quel''Danas.
Syra grinned, and her eyes saw the world in a swirl of colors as one eye glowed gold, and the other purple.
She saw every possible oncoming attack, and the way to counter them. Yet Hellscream was such a natural, such a savant, that what would ordinarily be about a handful of patterns had transformed into dozens.
The way he shifted his stance, his posture, and shifted his weapon, coupled with his amazing speed meant that even with this predictive ability, it was only truly useful at the very second when he struck.
5 seconds ticked by from the time he roared to the time he charged at her. In that time she saw countless permutations from where he might strike. As each second ticked down, the predictive nature of her Holy Void state became more and more precise.
5: Head. Neck. Shoulder. Neck. Chest.
4: Sword. Hand. Leg. Sword.
3: Left lower side. Right eye. Center throat line.
2: Stab to neck into feint at heart. Cleave at chest to reach behind head for decapitation.
1: Dirt cloud into-
Syra''s eyes widened over that five second window as the likelihood of each possible attack narrowed down to a surprise dirt cloud that blocked her vision!
A whirlwind of dust and debris came towards her as Hellscream dragged his axe in the dirt.
At the same time, 3 perfectly identical Grom Hellscream''s emerged from the same spot, and attacked her in a triangle pattern.
It was the Orc blademaster special ability: Mirror Image!
Even with Mana Sight, it was impossible to tell any one of the three apart from one another!
Syra remained calm, and plunged her sword into the earth, then cast Concentration.
A thick web of golden-purple light burst out of the ground, and exploded in a 360 degree circle all around her. Pulsing with power, the Holy energy was tinged purple with Void, and slowly stripped away the very molecules that bound any organism that was unfortunate enough to be caught in its radius.
The three bodies however, didn''t pay any mind to this, as the red aura of rage surrounding their bodies briefly protected them from the life threatening pulse.
Swinging their axes in tandem, the three Orc warriors began to look less solid by the moment, as if they were fading away.
Syra instinctively knew Hellscream would be attacking from the sky, and would arrive at her location sometime within the next 5 seconds. However, she still had to deal with these Mirror Images. Her prior experience fighting Orc blademasters taught her that although they were not nearly as strong as the original, they still carried with them a punch!
Ducking underneath one axe, Syra empowered her foot, and spin kicked that clone in the chest. An eruption of purple energy spread from the heel of her shoe, and exploded outward, destroying the image.
Using her sword that was impaled in the earth like a pole, she placed her body in between it and another axe strike, completely blocking it. Keeping up her centrifugal force from the spin kick, she axe kicked the arm of the next image, and jumped off its dissipating form to knee the next one in the jaw.
At the end of her motion, Syra used her tether to her buster sword, and called it to her thanks to binding magic.
Right as the handle of the sword entered her grasp, she swung it upward to meet the full force of a somersault axe attack.
Syra withheld a grimace as the power behind the axe was greater than anything she had ever blocked before. Even with the Light empowering her body, her wrists ached, and the alignment of her sword trembled from the impact.
Hellscream grinned wide as a monstrous red energy swelled around him, and pushed forth with overwhelming momentum.
The Orc''s bloodlust was palpable, almost as if it were alive. Syra could feel a conceptual rage emerging from the warrior before her. It was a need to dominate, a need to conquer!
She had watched so many of Varrus''s plays, that she recognized this for what it was. Hellscream''s final gambit at victory.
She recognized that she had no choice but to respond in kind.
Over the months, she had been developing her Holy Void state, and went from lasting just a single minute to an hour. But lasting longer wasn''t good enough. It wasn''t until she taught Tess, and studied her unique body that Syra realized there was more she could do with this combination.
Varrus had warned her about the dangers, but she had come this far, hadn''t she?
Besides, the more he advanced in that crystal magic, the further and further she would be left behind.
Then who would protect him when he inevitably did something stupid?
Syra smiled to herself as she thought about her lovable, stupid husband. So intelligent and confident when it came to certain things, but absolutely clueless with other matters.
Ah. He was just so cute!
Syra almost let herself get lost in her memories of him. However, it was also thanks to this obsession that Syra was able to complete the next transformation in her Holy Void state.
Whereas her first form changed her aura, the combination of her mana, and her eyes, the second form altered even more of the body.
Releasing a cold breath, a purple fog crept out of her mouth, and began to taint the air.
The mist then began to coat her face, and took on the appearance of a dark umbra mask. At the same time, the constant light that coated her body retreated into the pores of her skin. Her ordinarily tan dermis began to glow golden.
Dust particles shimmered in the air, reflecting gold and purple light into the surroundings. This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
A vast amount of contradictory concepts were expelled from her body as she radiated the energy of the Holy Void in every direction.
Love. Loyalty. Sacrifice.
Hatred. Betrayal. Selfishness.
These concepts and more clashed within Syra''s body, and almost threatened to overwhelm her.
Both her psyche and physical body were on the verge of collapse as she forcefully merged these two distinctly separate powers together.
Syra felt like she was on fire, poisoned, and being embraced by a healing warmth all at the same time.
In short, she was in a constant state of agony.
If someone were to look at Syra right now, they wouldn''t know if they were looking at a demon or an angel.
To Syra, none of that mattered. All that ran through her mind was to eliminate her and her husband''s enemies.
This sole thought, this one, burning desire to show love, loyalty and sacrifice combined with her senses of hatred, betrayal, and selfishness.
Syra loved Varrus more than anything in the universe, this love served as the core for her being. With him in her life, it almost washed away the years of abuse, and made it easy to forget the evils of her mother. She was loyal to him, and willing to sacrifice her health for him.
At the same time, her hatred for Hellscream, and others who stood in her family''s way fueled her determination. The lackluster love from her mother when she grew up fueled her sense of betrayal. She felt no loyalty to Quel''Thalas or Silvermoon, this fed into her disconnect, further empowering the amount of Void entering her system. Lastly, was her selfishness. She knew she was doing this all for Varrus, that her love was ironclad. But truly, at the end of the day, she was doing this for herself! To prove to herself that she wasn''t worthless! That she was more than her mother''s training!
Upon this realization, the transformation reached a perfect melded state, and the incredible pain receded to the background.
¡°Yula-ha-lay-lay!¡± Hellscream roared as he came in for an attack.
The Orc chieftan''s eyes, and veins pulsed with a piercing red light. As he made his charge, it was as if the outline of a black-red avatar was behind him, empowering him further. His rage was so poignant, that it had manifested itself into an image behind him!
The sky turned red, and the earth rumbled as his roar sent the clouds fleeing.
Any who gazed upon Hellscream at that moment would clutch their hearts, or cower in fear. Yet none could look away. His every step seemed like it carried with it the weight of inevitability.
Each creature knew they would die one day. But that concept was always ¡®some other time.¡¯
However. However! Each and every living being, whether they be an insect or an immortal that viewed this scene felt themselves shudder as ¡®some other day¡¯ became today.
Hellscream''s charge carried with it a conceptual weight of ending.
The anger was so palpable, it could be tasted on the air. Men kneeled, they vomited, and more. Yet they could not look away! Each and every one of these observers knew that they were witnessing a legend in action.
This was the Orc who had drank from the Demons blood and emerged as a monster.
This was the Orc who took part in sacrificing tens of thousands of Draenei to open the Dark Portal and invade Azeroth.
He was the Orc who sacked Stormwind, and survived every war against the Humans, Dwarves and Elves.
He was the Orc who slayed the father of druidism, the demigod Cenarius!
He was the Orc who slayed the Demon that empowered him in the first place, the demigod Mannoroth!
He was rage incarnate.
He was:
Grom Hellscream!
In response to this unprecedented attack, Syra prepared to meet force with force!
Exhaling once more, an ever changing film of golden-purple shrouded her form, and created a shimmering cloak of purple-gold. She then held out her offhand, and coalesced her energy into a shape.
Lightning bearing the features of the Holy Void crackled in her offhand, and formed a spear.
All the light in the sky seemed to be drawn towards this object conjured in the palm of her hand, and the world went dim. For a split second, it was almost as if she were the only object in the universe, all else was fake, illusory, or some twisted hallucination.
¡°Syra Greathollow, DIE!!!¡±
¡°IT''S VANDERCROSS!!!¡±
The wave of red clashed with purple-gold, and chaos ensued.
Super speed sonic booms shook the sky as the pair of combatants moved faster than anyone else.
Elites caught in the crossfire didn''t even know how they died as crescents of rogue energy scattered in every direction.
Bolts of Holy Void lightning swept the battlefield, disintegrating all it passed through.
The aura of rage was so great, people turned on one another as they were lost to a berserkers rage.
Power so vast, it was suffocating knocked people unconscious.
No one was safe as these two titans clashed.
At this point, neither Syra or Grom were thinking much as they fought. Each swipe of the sword, or movement of the axe was instinctual. Hours upon hours of training, and combat had led up to this ultimate confrontation.
Syra absorbed information so rapidly thanks to her mask, even with her super speed, she was having trouble processing it. So she didn''t, and let herself move on autopilot. The shift in Hellscream''s aura was her indicator as to his next move, and she would adjust accordingly.
Hellscream seemed to be doing something similar, and despite each of them powering up, they were still in a deadlock!
However, Syra had one advantage, and that was Mana Stones.
While her body was constantly altering itself to manage this great energy, she was, at the end of the day, an Elf! So long as she could balance the Holy Void, and had a power source, she could outlast him!
Seconds ticked by, and eventually minutes passed. Neither of them could score a finishing, or crippling blow, yet she saw the warrior''s stamina begin to flag!
Moving in close, Syra was just that much faster, and scored a direct hit with her lightning spear. Shoving it forward, she directly pierced Hellscream''s chest.
The Orc tried to grab her with his offhand, and sacrifice himself to take her out at the same time. However, she had seen countless examples of this in her fights, and danced out of his grasp at the last second.
His fingertips barely scraped against her neck, but we''re suddenly dozens of feet away as she pulled back.
A burning hot mark colored her neck from where he touched, but otherwise, she was fine.
As for Hellscream, he was still standing! Yet his breaths were labored, and he eyed Syra like a dying animal that still had some fight in it.
Syra breathed deeply, this was it!
¡°You. Are. A worthy opponent. Syra. Vandercross!¡± Grom bit out between pain filled gasps.
¡°I had something worth fighting for.¡± Syra glanced over her shoulder towards the crater of the Sunwell, and smiled.
¡°So you noticed the crack in my resolve.¡± Grom pitilessly grinned as he looked at the Horde, and Thrall in particular.
¡°I won the Mak''gora. That means you have to do anything I say. As the victor, I demand you join my House, and become my Champion.¡± Syra planted her sword in the ground with a big grin.
She had just won the toughest fight of her life, and was feeling extremely proud of herself.
But that wasn''t enough.
Syra wanted to surprise Varrus. To show him the big boogeyman he was so scared of had been defeated by her. That he had submitted to her.
How much love and praise would he shower upon her if she returned with Grom Hellscream as a subordinate?
¡°Hah, it doesn''t work like that girly. For one, you''re not an Orc.¡± Grom grinned cheekily, however, he felt extreme pain as the Void began to eat away at his organs, and he fell forward to his knees. ¡°Also, I am dying a warrior''s death. I have one more attack in me. I do not intend to serve another.¡± Grom said with resolve.
Syra closed her eyes and sighed.
She then silently raised her sword, and saluted him.
¡°Ruaaargh!¡± Grom punched himself in the chest and roared.
Staggering to his feet, Hellscream''s eyes once more took on a red hue.
¡°Today is the day you will have defeated the greatest Orc warrior to have ever lived. Remember the name: Grom Hellscream!¡±
Right before the leader of the Warsong clan was about to charge, a deep voice boomed across all of Quel''Danas, and the sound of a Dragon¡¯s flapping wings was heard by all, like the flutter of a butterfly altering history.
¡°TIME LOOP!¡±
Time magic spread across the entire island at that moment.
Every single Alliance or Horde member that was on the verge of death had their wounds healed.
A second wind had emerged for the Champions of Azeroth as the Bronze Dragonflight made their presence known!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
AN: Read up to chapter 153 at:
Chapter 126
¡°Time Loop¡±
Nozdormu''s words acted as a spell, and restored the Horde and Alliance combatants to full mana and health across the battlefield.
The effects of which began to slightly turn the tide in the Bronze Dragonflights favor.
On the northern front, Halduron Brightwing, Tae''thelon, Telonicus, and Knight-Lord Dranarus had pushed Thrall back. Now with this second wind, they were the ones in trouble.
The Elven forces had used their numbers advantage to overwhelm the former Warchief in ambush. Thrall had not had a chance to unleash his full power.
However, with this second wind, he was afforded an opportunity to do so.
¡°Spirits of the earth, heed my call! Steady my hand, and strengthen my bones so that I might find balance!¡¯ Thrall slammed his hammer into the earth, and pulled.
Emerging from the dirt, a molten rock golem pulled itself up from the depths. Almost seconds later, it crumpled itself into a beed, and magnetized towards Thrall''s hammer like an infinity stone slotting itself into Thanos''s gauntlet.
Thrall didn''t let up though, and continued summoning the elements, and bound them into his weapon.
¡°Rain and thunder, smite my foe!!¡± Thrall held his hammer up to the sky, and an elemental made of wind and lightning poured down from the heavens to spawn in.
¡°Oceans of Azeroth, I seek your blessing, cool my spirit with your soothing touch!¡± Thrall roared in time with the ocean, and the waves swirled together into a typhoon. Once it made landfall, this vast column of water compressed itself and merged into the Doomhammer.
¡°Finally, fire and heat, may your blazing spirit give me the heart to scorch my enemies!¡± Thrall pointed towards the sun, and a great ball of fire joined his weapon.
Upon completing his ritual spell, Thrall was surrounded by a complimentary aura of earth, wind, lightning, water, and fire.
The shaman''s eyes glowed white, and the magnitude of power flowing through his veins could be felt by everyone on the northern front.
¡°Gotchu.¡± Halduron smirked as he had snuck up behind Thrall, then unleashed dozens of Arcane Arrows.
Amongst the ranged missiles were several Black Arrows that had been used against Varrus back during the war for Deatholme. Their ability to counter, and silence magic were meant to disrupt the auras surrounding Thrall, and hit the Orc directly.
At the same time, the other Elven Heroes were making their attacks as Halduron.
¡°My blade was forged with dozens of enchantments over the course of centuries. It has weathered innumerable storms, and was fueled by the souls of countless Trolls. Be welcome as you are the first Orc to be harvested by such a venerable relic!¡± Tae''thelon smugly intoned from within his giant golem suit.
The headmaster was slashing down at Thrall with a massive enchanted blade. Arcane energies coated it, and ran up the sword like a chainsaw. The sound it made resembled the constant cackle of lightning.
¡°Three, twenty eight point six, carry the 2¡¡± Telonicus muttered to himself as he did some quick math for his most optimal firing arc.
Piloting a levitating Arcane Tower, the Chief Engineer was directing 8 more at the same time. He had constructed many more since the battle of Deatholme, and they all had Mana Stone powered beam cannons pointing down.
¡°Alright men, prepare for a Mass Teleport! As soon as our allies unleash their attacks, we will close in and finish this!¡± Knight-Lord Dranarus, Captain of the Royal Guards said to his Elite unit of Spellbreakers.
Dranarus and his troops were in formation, and charging Thrall with the intent to sap away his mana, and redirect spells.
Thrall seemed to be looking off into the horizon, as if he didn''t notice any of this. His thoughts and concerns were clearly focused on some other matter.
It was only when the arrows came within an inch of his skin, and the massive blade fell towards his forehead that he responded.
As for his return attack?
It was a snort.
One snort, and the vast aura of elemental energy coating his body exploded outward.
Halduron''s arrows disintegrated like a sand castle swept by the waves. A sharp series of wind blades were sent his way in retaliation, forcing the Vice Ranger General to dance like a dog as his life depended on it.
Tae''thelon''s blade suffered a minor fracture, and the golem suit was repulsed. Electrical arcs coated its frame, and some bolts pierced the suit''s enchantments, eliciting a pained yelp from the famed educator.
The beams pouring down like rain from Telonicus''s creations evaporated like moisture in a volcano. For a brief moment, his levitating buildings swayed like kites in a storm.
As for Dranarus, he had ported at Thrall, and had absorbed all he could into his shield. He then started to absorb it into his body, but even then, it was too much! If he absorbed any more, his body would burst!
¡°Captain, the shields, the men, we can''t hold out much longer!¡± A Spellbreaker shouted to be heard.
¡°Delta Formation C!¡± Dranarus bit out as the mana flowing into him threatened to overwhelm him.
¡°Delta C! Delta C!¡± The cry went out.
The Royal Guard then channeled all the excess mana they had absorbed, and converted the elemental energy into Arcane energy. They then shot it out towards Thrall in the form of a rapidly spinning cone-shape lance.
Moving like a drill, the cone of power began to push Thrall back.
¡°It''s working, it''s working!¡± One guard cheered.
That good cheer was swiftly broken, however, as Thrall stomped on the ground, and a giant earthen hand came up, and snuffed the cone like a fire-blanket dousing a flame.
At the same time, Halduron had emerged from stealth, and tried to stab Thrall in the back with a pair of enchanted swords dripping with poison.
The Orc Warchief reacted quickly, and decisively swung his hammer backwards.
Halduron''s eyes widened in shock as he was in too deep to pull out.
The Doomhammer made a sickening crack, and Halduron''s head snapped around in a 360 degree angle.
As Halduron''s lifeless body crumpled to the earth, the Doomhammer glowed, and the Elf''s corpse disintegrated as his essence was used as a sacrifice to the Elements.
¡°You will respect my blade!¡± Tae''thelon''s voice boomed from the volume enchantments placed on his golem. If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.
The white hot, giant sword revved up to incredible speeds, and the chainsaw effect ripped and roared towards the heavens.
Thrall sidestepped the attack, and several more follow up swings.
The former Warchief then tossed his hammer at the golem, and staggered it back, creating a deep dent in its armor.
Calling it back to his hand, he repeated this process several times, battering Tae''thelon back again and again, all the while, he was sundering the massive plate armor, searching for weaknesses.
¡°I will not lose to a measly, uneducated bumpkin!¡± Tae''thelon hotly declared.
Regaining his balance, Tae''thelon activated several Mana Stones, and his golem began to output an extremely dense Arcane aura.
¡°A simpleton such as yourself likely doesn''t know a thing about the Titans, or their creations! Allow me to educate you as to the finer workings of the Titankeeper Tyr''s cuirass!¡± Tae''thelon boasted as he had a second wind, and began to clash evenly with Thrall''s hammer.
Observing this all from the height of his tower, Telonicus clucked his tongue. Tae''thelon had grown over confident, and the Orc was clearly conserving his mana in preparation for both himself, and Dranarus''s next moves.
¡°We need the Sunwell if we are to defeat such a challenging foe.¡± Telonicus said to himself as he ran constant simulations and came to the conclusion that as they were now, they faced certain defeat.
¡°But even with the Sunwell, would it be enough?¡±
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Nozdormu''s spell impacted the battlefield in many aspects, but it could not reverse death.
The other fight taking place on the northern front was between Lor''Themar Theron, and Orgrim Doomhammer.
The old Warchief of the Horde was strong, his hammer broke apart the earth as if it were made of playdough, and his armor was adamantine, virtually unbreakable.
However, Lor''Themar was no slouch either. After he blamed himself for the Scourge sacking of Silvermoon, bemoaned his loss against the ritualistically empowered Zul¡¯Jin, put the past behind him with his victory over his former lover, Lireesa Windrunner, and witnessed the swift ascendancy of the Vandercross boy, a fire had been lit in his heart.
Lor''Themar had been training harder than he ever had in his life these last few months.
Furthermore, he had secretly become enamored with Nightsong, and had sought out her training all in the name of teaching her about Varrus.
Whilst Lor''Themar felt a little guilty over this, his strategy worked.
He had made inroads with the woman he admired most, and had grown exceptionally more skilled at the same time.
With the aid of Vandercross¡¯s enchanted amulet and rings, he was even just that much stronger.
And so, Doomhammer may have had the power to break Lor''Themar in half, the Ranger General was unconcerned, as the Orc had to actually hit him for that to occur!
¡°Huff. Huff. You are a wily one, Elf.¡± Doomhammer said in a tired voice, and collapsed to one knee after Lor''Themar had slipped under Doomhammer''s guard, and hamstrung the back of his knee.
Lor''Themar spared no words for the chieftain, as all he wanted to do was secure this sector, and aid his comrades. As a general, he did not wish to remain locked in one position for too long.
Twirling his twin swords, Lor''Themar decapitated Doomhammer in one swift, lethal strike.
Afterwards, he pulled out his scrying orb, and began communicating with his scouts and lieutenants to direct the flow of battle. At the same time, he was analyzing the enemy and determining where he should go next.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Meanwhile, on the southern front, Rho''dan was initiating one of Varrus''s plots.
Facing the oncoming Champions of Azeroth, and the Hero, King Terenas, Rho''dan could only surmise that Thaladred had perished.
Whilst Rho''dan did not have a good impression of the Darkener, that did not mean he could not see the value in the man.
What irked him the most, was that the Highlord would have to vet the population, and find a replacement to sit on the Convocation.
Such an unknown posed a security risk, and threatened to bring unrest to the ruling body of Elves.
¡°Should we attack now, sir? The enemy are within range of our bows and cannons.¡± A member of House Vandercross came up to, and saluted Rho''dan.
Glancing about, Rho''dan noticed a sparkle in the soldier''s eyes, one reflected in the eyes of everyone else present.
He had taught them well.
¡°Not yet. The Highlord has instructed me to parlay with the invaders.¡± Rho''dan said in an even tone.
Internally, he was feeling a slight displeasure and embarrassment at what he was about to do, but he wouldn''t allow such petty thoughts to show on his face. He was a professional, and if he was going to hold the men to such a high standard, then he must lead by example.
¡°Parlay, sir?¡±
¡°Yes.¡± Rho''dan said in a slightly terse tone, letting the soldier know to get back in line with just a glance.
The man gulped, then ran to get back into his spot in the formation.
¡°Haha, poor guy. He''ll be torn between crying and laughter in a moment.¡± One of the Crossguard chuckled, as he knew what Rho''dan was about to do.
The other members of the Crossguard all side eyed Rho''dan with a grin, but Rho''dan paid them no mind. Besides, he was sure that they would thank him once they had the Sunwell restored. The unlimited stamina would be a great addition towards their training.
¡°O-oi, why is he smiling like that?¡± One of the Crossguard stopped laughing, and pointed.
Rho''dan held up a hand signaling silence. It was time.
¡°Elves of Quel''Thalas, move aside, and you will be spared! Stand in the way of the Alliance, and know yourselves to stand against the right side of history! Against Azeroth herself!¡± The Human King declared.
Rho''dan stared at the script on his scrying orb that the Highlord had sent him, then used a voice amplifying enchanted item to speak.
Facing the group of adventurers surrounding King Tenris, Rho''dan raised his voice and repeated exactly what the Highlord had commanded him to do.
¡°Adventurers of Azeroth! The Dragons have deceived you! Think for yourself, isn''t every time related crisis related to the Infinite Dragonflight? In other words, the Bronze Dragons? How many times have you been told you ¡®saved Azeroth¡¯ yet felt hollow inside, as if you didn''t really do that much?
Join our banner! Together, we will destroy the Scourge years in advance, as well as the Dark Portal! Furthermore, we promise enchanted items, rare mounts, and a home in Silvermoon to any Heroes that side with us against the evil clutches of the time Dragons.¡± Rho''dan finished reading the script and looked towards the Alliance line.
¡°Keep your tricks to yourself, Elf. It is we Men, who will determine our own fate! By the grace of the Light, for the Alliance, charge!¡± Teneras pointed his hammer, and ran at House Vandercross¡¯ position.
Rho''dan noticed a few scowls and chuckles from his side. Those promises weren''t very popular amongst the Elves, but it wasn''t as if the Highlord intended on keeping them.
He was prepared to order the men to open fire, but he noticed something interesting. The adventurers had actually paused to discuss this amongst themselves!
¡°Rare mounts, weapons, I think I speak for everyone when I say, we have all of those. But a house in Silvermoon? That''s not something money can buy.¡± The captain of the Alliance adventurers argued.
Several more loud voices began to support, or argue against the idea of turning on the Alliance.
While they were distracted, Rho''dan noticed Teneras hadn''t withdrawn from his charge.
¡°The Highlord truly is a visionary.¡± Rho''dan ran a hand through his long red hair in disbelief.
He couldn''t believe how Varrus''s schemes kept working out. How would he know that offering homes to adventurers would be such an effective ploy?
Shaking his head, Rho''dan lowered his arm.
¡°All forces, target that Human charging at us!¡± Rho''dan ordered.
The levitating Towers of Jenga, Arcane Cannons, Elite mages, and archers of House Vandercross all dumped their load on the singular Human Hero.
Teneras did well in dodging and blocking most of it, but in doing so, he exhausted a considerable amount of mana.
By the time the King reached their line, he had less than half his mana.
Rho''dan was systematically surrounding him with his troops, and was going to cleanly execute the man when a spell threw his plan out the window.
¡°Time Loop¡±
King Terenas was fully rejuvenated, and ran straight for Rho''dan, recognizing him as the commander.
¡°Oh bollocks.¡± Rho''dan swore for the first time in a long time, and drew his sword.
At the very least, it seemed that the adventurers were engaged in a civil war and were killing one another, so all was not lost.
All he had to do was stall for Varrus to complete the Sunwell.
¡®Easy enough.¡¯ Rho''dan thought to himself as he began to clash blades with Teneras.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
AN: Read up to Chapter 154 at:
Chapter 127
Floating in the sky above the island of Quel''Danas, the seven leaders (and only true Dragons) of the Bronze Dragonflight had gathered. All around them, whelps, drakes, and lesser Dragons swarmed the skies in their hundreds.
Off to the side, Chromie and Dante were observing the battle, and making small talk while they waited for their father and master''s command.
¡°It would seem the Champions of Azeroth are more inept than I had thought. Are you certain these are the best Heroes you could muster?¡± Dante questioned in a slow, deliberate tone. His calm Tauren timbre provided no judgement towards the Gnome, but his raised eyebrow and flared nostrils said it all.
¡°Don''t question my methods Dante!¡± Chromie crossed her arms, and huffed.
¡°...¡± Dante stared expssioesllessly at her.
¡°Okay, fine! Whichever adventurers accepted the mail I sent out first were the ones who were accepted for the mission! Those letters traveled through thousands of timelines, but only 40 Horde, and 40 Alliance could accept. We were bound to get a few weirdos, but I never expected¡expected this!¡± Chromie gestured wildly with her tiny hands down at the Alliance adventurers murdering one another over housing in Silvermoon.
¡°An oversight we shall not overlook in the future.¡± Nozdormu said as he flew over towards the pair.
¡°Time Lord¡± Dante and Chromie said at the same time, and bowed.
¡°This plan, while meritorious, has not gone as we had hoped.¡±
Chromie bit her lip, and opened her mouth to protest, then held herself back.
Sure, they had saved Liadrin, and Alistair Bloodsworn from death, but most of their pieces were still tied up. Aegwynn and Jaina were fighting Kael¡¯Thas and that Loa Troll girl. Thrall was being useless like always, and who knew what Grom was up to.
Their raid was beginning to look like a bust!
If this kept, then they''d-
¡°We must take the fight to Vandercross and Nightsong personally. If we fear for our lives, then the Sunwell will be restored. In every future that this comes to pass, we die. I am not the only one who sees that, correct?¡± Andormu, one of the Bronze leaders spoke up.
A silent consensus was met between everyone present.
Whatever futures they saw involving the early restoration of the Sunwell, the Bronze Dragonflight was not a part of it.
¡°Yes, Chromie''s failure was quite massive. This raid was most unimpressive. If we are to secure the timeline, then we must do so ourselves!¡± Soridormi, Nozdormu''s prime consort, looked the other leaders in the eye, and expressed her concern.
¡®That bitch!¡¯ Chromie internally swore as everyone directed their attention at her.
¡°So what are we waiting for, let''s slay the baddy, and save the day!¡± Chromie waved her hand, and faux cheered in her high pitched Gnomish voice.
At that moment, all eyes turned to Nozdormu.
The closed his eyes and slowly contemplated the future.
¡°We are the keepers of time charged by the Titans. Although our fates from this battle are clouded, we must do what is right. For Azeroth.¡±
¡°For Azeroth.¡± The other true Dragons agreed.
¡°I don''t like this Dante.¡± Chromie whispered to her long time friend.
¡°We have sent countless adventurers to their deaths over the centuries, Chromie. It is time for us to share in that burden. To fight for what we say we believe in.¡± Dante calmly replied.
Chromie stomped her foot, and huffed.
The last time they fought Nightsong, they had ambushed her with 40 Champions of Azeroth, and had targeted her child. This time, the Elves were prepared, and there was an entire army between the dragonflight and the Sunwell.
¡°Hourglass.¡± Nozdormu''s voice traveled across the battlefield once more as he unleashed another spell.
This time, a giant, translucent hourglass the size of a 8-story building spawned in the sky.
Each second that ticked by, a watermelon-sized granular of sand would tumble down.
¡°Go forth, my children, and have no fear. Father time shall protect you, so long as the sands remain.¡± Nozdormu commanded.
Afterwards, the whelps, drakes, and lesser-Dragons all took flight, and began their descent onto the Sunwell.
The floating towers and levitating buildings that surrounded the crater began to shoot Arcane, fire, and lightning bolts at the oncoming horde.
Countless members of the Bronze Dragonflight perished in this initial charge.
Yet as they died, they faded out of existence, and returned to their spot in the sky where they had first launched their attack from.
The more creatures that had their lives saved this way, the faster the sand in the hourglass tumbled.
Already, a fifth of the sand had been diminished as the first wave of attackers were forced back.
Chromie breathed a sigh of relief at the sight, yet was worried that the sand was being depleted too quickly. She tugged on Dante''s arm in a hurried manner.
¡°Let''s go, Dante! If we''re late to the party, we''ll have lost our chance!¡± Chromie transformed into her Dragon form, and began the descent towards the Sunwell.
During her flight, she was forced to maneuver left and right, lest she catch a stray hit.
¡°Why are these cannons shooting so fast?!¡± Chromie shouted in surprise. This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.
Not only that, but these cannons were weird, and looked like lamps!
¡°I peered into the past while researching Vandercross. He calls them Dwarven Cannons, and the floating buildings with enchanted bricks, the Tower of Jenga.¡± Dante supplied as he followed right behind her.
Chromie frowned, as only 8 of these buildings were enough to kill hundreds of drakes in mere minutes.
¡°At this rate, we won''t even reach Nightsong!¡± Chromie said in worry.
¡°Work with me!¡± Dante surpassed her, and called over his shoulder.
Diving headfirst at one of the towers, Dante breathed his flames at the oncoming projectiles.
Each one of the Bronze Dragon''s attacks carried with it a feeling of time, and erased these lesser magical attacks from the timeline.
As he closed with the tower, Dante became the focus of the automatic defense turrets, allowing the lesser members of the flight to move past the towers, and continue their assault on the Sunwell.
However, as the target, Dante was forced to bear the brunt of the tower''s full throttle attack!
¡°Dante!¡± Chromie screamed out as her friend was caught by a deluge of flame and lightning.
¡°I''m fine! Attack the shields!¡± Dante said in a stressed tone. The Dragon had a barrier around him that erased the oncoming attacks, but his mana was draining fast.
Chromie struck at the tower with a combination of her breath and her claws.
With her flames, she erased a portion of the shield, and then struck tore a hole in ienso she could slip through.
Closing with the tower, Chromie began to rip and tear at it the best she could.
After about a dozen minutes of frenzied effort, she had completely tore it apart.
¡°We did it, Dante!¡± Chromie cheered.
However, when she looked around for her constant companion, she didn''t see him at all.
Looking back to her starting point, she saw him back up with the hourglass.
She felt some relief knowing her friend was okay, but the sands of time had depleted to less than a quarter!
Chromie worriedly took a peak around the battlefield.
6 of 8 of the towers had been destroyed, and the smaller members of her flight were currently attacking the Sunwell.
Elves were sniping them down one by one, such that very few made it within melee range.
Furthermore, she noticed that the most useless of their kind, the whelps, were no longer being brought back at the hourglass!
Their tiny bodies laid broken and bloodied on the rocks and crags down below!
Chromie felt a chill go down her spine, and the urge to flee spread throughout her system.
Everyone else might have seen a future where the Sunwell was restored early, and the entire Bronze Dragonflight had perished, but she knew she could hide.
Chromie was considering running, when a heavy pressure descended upon the area, like a meteor slowly descending from the heavens, a massive shadow covered the land.
The Aspect of Time, Nozdormu had joined the battle!
~~~~~~~~~~~~
As the Dragons mounted their assault from the sky, Nightsong was trailing behind Varrus, and acted as the final line of defense.
Nightsong looked lovingly at her son. Her only flesh and blood. Her only connection to this rotten world.
Holding out a pale hand, Nightsong cursed the Bronze Dragonflight for their schemes.
His first: steps, words, love interest, play, spell, and so many more firsts, lost to her.
She had lost the opportunity to teach him the art of the sword, or even her own unique branch of magic.
Whenever she looked upon him, she was reminded of that little giggling boy. Of that loving smile.
Seeing him so stressed, so eager to finish this mission whilst his lover was away.
It pained her.
It hurt her deeply that the only thing she cared for in this damned state of unlife was her son.
Being an Undead, a Darkfallen, it was excruciating. Mentally that is.
Dark thoughts constantly interrupted her thought processes, and melancholy threatened to devour her psyche.
Yet as always, she had to stay strong.
General. Pioneer. Hero.
All epitaphs others had used to label her with.
All worthless in her eyes.
There was only one title that mattered to her.
Mother.
As a mother, she worried about her son. Every night between her efforts to cleanse the Ghostlands, she would return to the Vandercross Estate, and await his return.
When he was in the room, she would drink up his expressions, and fuel herself to push forward one more day.
Varrus''s laughter, embarrassed sighs, and sarcastic attitude was like a healing salve to her world weary heart.
But now? His nervousness, his worry?
They had become her concern!
¡®Do not worry my little Var-Var, mom will protect you.¡¯ Nightsong silently promised to herself.
Feeling a shift in the currents of time, Nightsong glanced up just in time to see the majority of the defenses set up around the Sunwell crumble.
Those towers Varrus was so proud in had all but been destroyed, and the Darkfallen she commanded had engaged the enemy.
Their fervor, and their obsession to see the Sunwell restored saw each singular soldier fight with the ferocity of five men.
Nightsong had guided them well over the last couple of months, and took pride in their instruction.
However, while they could hold off the lesser Dragons flying overhead, they were no match for the father.
Swooping down, Nozdormu halted just above Nightsong. Following in his wake, the six true Dragons of his flight flanked him.
Nightsong glanced at a pair of Dragons in particular. Chromie and Dante. They had been responsible for her first death, and caught her off guard whilst protecting a baby Varrus.
Nightsong nodded to them in greeting.
¡°Have you come to settle your debts, Nozdormu?¡±
¡°Anomaly. Shard of Akatosh. Nightsong of Azeroth. As the Guardian of Time, I shall not allow you to reset this plane, and cover it in darkness.¡± Nozdormu seriously intoned.
A moment later, an aura spread out from Nozdormu, seemingly freezing time in the local area.
¡°I am more than the titles you have bestowed upon me. Tid Klo Ul!¡± Nightsong pulled upon the fabric of reality, and shouted up at them, and shattered the subtle spell Nozdormu had weaved.
The balance of time became porous, like a sieve, and pockets of space around the Sunwell seemed to randomly range between x3 speed, or x0.1 speed.
¡°As expected from one such as yourself. You would rather shatter time than submit to the proper order of the universe.¡± Nozdormu condescended.
¡°Nozdormu, you and your future self have caused every instance of time misuse upon this plane. The ¡®proper¡¯ timeline included the deaths of millions, and the prolonged suffering of hundreds of millions. You are a blight upon this realm deserving to die.¡± Nightsong sternly replied.
She then followed up this statement with an earth shattering shout that shook the heavens, and blasted the six true Dragons flying besides Nozdormu away.
Nozdormu himself was forced to phase himself briefly out of the timeline so as not to take the full brunt of this overwhelming force.
¡°Fus Ro Dah!¡±
With one iconic shout, the battle above the Sunwell had begun.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
AN: Read up to chapter 157 at:
Chapter 128
¡°Fus Ro Dah!¡± The shout trembled the sky, and blew the 6 Heroic true Dragons backward.
Nozdormu had briefly phased himself out of reality to avoid the attack.
Looking down at the creature he had sworn to destroy and her spawn, Nozdormu felt for the first time in his long life, the inklings of fear.
When he was young, he had been instructed by the leader of the Titans, Aman''Thul to cater events across Azeroth such that they developed towards a certain goal in which the Alliance and Horde became the dominant super powers on Azeroth.
Nozdormu did not know what this God''s ultimate plan was, but he had worked towards achieving this directive with everything he had.
During his research of the timeline, to see how best he could realize his Master''s ambitions, Nozdormu discovered dark secrets surrounding Azeroth.
Of the other pantheons not native to this plane.
Specifically, he had learnt of the Aedric Pantheon, and their leader, Akatosh.
Much like Aman''Thul, Akatosh was a deity representing time. Furthermore, it was a Dragon, much like himself.
He had tried to commune with this divine being, feeling a kinship between them, but he had been harshly rejected each time.
In fact, he had experienced a sense of coldness when the connection had been cut.
This was a disappointing setback, but nothing Nozdormu concerned himself much with.
That is, of course, until he saw what possible futures awaited him.
What struck fear in Nozdormu''s heart was that in every timeline, a Shard of Akatosh would come into being..
It was a creature spawned from a fraction of a Divine''s own essence that would emerge on Azeroth without fail.
It was an Anomaly.
The words from its mouth were so powerful, so devastating, that when he looked upon their form, he inherently knew the Shard¡¯s name.
Nightsong.
Nightsong was the herald of Akatosh. The creature that had been summoned to punish Aman''Thul by destroying the Dragons in some cosmic game that Nozdormu had little understanding of.
His foresight told him that the Shard could be a man, woman, Human, Orc, or any racial makeup. That if left alone, the Shard would have children of its own containing the blood of Akatosh. Dragonborn children that had the fires of ambition so strong, it would ruin Nozdormu''s plans for the proper timeline.
Furthermore, once a true Dragon was defeated by the Dragonborn, they would have their soul, their very essence consumed, and their existence totally and completely erased!
It was knowledge so traumatizing that Nozdormu''s future self had taken up a new name: Murozond, and created the Infinite Dragonflight.
Fearful of losing his existence, Murozond had battled with Nozdormu across the past, present, and the future as they battled for their ideal world. And it all stemmed from fear of Nightsong.
In this timeline, Nozdormu had thought himself the victor. That with her death, his future self would no longer meddle in the past. Little did he know that the Anomalies child had survived, or that she had returned!
Fear once more gripped his heart as he beheld the famed Elven General down below.
¡°Mul. Qah. Diiv!¡± Nightsong shouted, and covered her form in an orangish-ethereal armor.
Draconic looking wings made from the armor spread out from her form, and she took to the skies.
Nozdormu narrowed his eyes, and slashed his claws in the air, sending out three slices of pale-yellow energy at her.
Each crescent of energy expanded, and from within, an object from somewhere in time was unleashed.
From one tear in space-time, the Doomhammer-over charged with elemental energies-came flying down like a meteorite and tracked Nightsong with pinpoint accuracy.
The second crescent revealed the full force volley of a thousand rune caste, Dwarven artillery shells. Each rune was expressly designed to counter magic shields, and penetrate mana constructs. This attack absolutely saturated the air, leaving Nightsong with little room to maneuver.
Lastly, the third tear revealed a full powered beam of Arcane launched from his brother Maligos, the Aspect of Magic. The bright blue burst of pure energy came down at a diagonal angle, and was pointed in such a way, that if it did not hit Nightsong, it would strike her spawn.
¡°Dur Vaz Oblivion!¡± Nightsong shouted, and tore open a large purple portal in the air.
Maligos''s beam entered the cavity, and was completely countered.
At the same time, Nightsong lifted her shield, and parried the Doomhammer with her adamantium shield.
Her aura recoiled, and diminished slightly as the elements exploded all around her.
Electricity tore at the orange energy, cold frozen the air around her, and fire combined with wind to form a vortex around her.
She seemingly ignored the damage to her ethereal armor, and brought her sword to bear directly against the hammer.
¡°Su Grah Du!¡± Her shout resounded, and a similar coating of elemental fury enhanced her own blade.
As the two weapons clashed, a piercingly bright white light followed by a ground shaking explosion erupted from her position.
When the light cleared, the Doomhammer had been split in two, and Nightsong stood triumphant.
Nozdormu felt his heart constrict at the sight.
It was as he had feared. The Anomaly was terrifying beyond belief. Much time and thought had gone into ambushing her the first time around. Now, however, she was well prepared, and as dangerous as ever.
The artillery shells continued to fall towards both her and the Sunwell, yet all Nightsong did was smile at the oncoming threat.
She then unleashed another Fus Ro Dah, and scattered the munitions to the wind.
All this time, less than a minute had passed since their exchange, yet Nozdormu realized that this was not looking too good for him.
Glancing down at the child, Varrus Vandercross, Nozdormu knew that he would be the key to victory. That if he wanted to destroy Nightsong, end the threat of the Dragonborn, and return to the original timeline, Vandercross must perish!
¡°To me, my children! We must hold back Nightsong. But you Chromie, Dante, must finish what you had failed to accomplish decades ago. Slay Varrus Vandercross!¡±
As soon as he finished his command, Nozdormu began to circle around in the air, and allowed his children a crack at distracting Nightsong while he prepared a spell.
His children roared, and flew at Nightsong in an attempt to buy him time. This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.
Almost immediately upon this act, his consort, Soridormi was slain in battle. Her death screech pained him greatly. Instead of returning to the magic hourglass, and healed from her wounds, the magic effect of Akatosh superseded his own!
When he saw her corpse drop down to the crater of the Sunwell, he witnessed her soul, her very essence became absorbed by Nightsong''s spawn!
Anger, rage, and other complex emotions colored his psyche. At that moment, he felt as if he had been sucker punched. As if everything he had strived for all his life, everything he had done in Aman''Thul''s name had been for nothing!
He had wanted to preserve the timeline at any cost, but the death of his love had driven him over the edge!
Nozdormu decided then and there he was going to obliterate the isle of Quel''Danas, and all its denizens!
During this decision, two more of the original 6 true Dragons he had brought with him fell to Nightsong, only firming his resolve to do what needed to be done.
The seeming less time he had to operate and cast this spell, the more powerful he became. As the threat of death rapidly approached, mana suffused his form, and the sky began to shake as he contained this monumental power between his claws.
While he chanted his spell, a massive ethereal pendulum spawned in the air behind him. It swung back and forth creating a loud tick-tock sound effect.
To each being that heard it, the sound matched perfectly with the beating of their own heart, and aroused a deep discomfort. It was as if every life form that experienced this rumbling sensation could see their remaining life span written out in front of them at that moment. Furthermore, that remaining life span wasn''t measured out in months or years, it was in minutes.
¡®The beginning of the end is the start of the beginning. All is dust that ever was. As the pages of the universe fold, a new chapter is realized. Time ever expanding, space never contracting. Aman''Thul, All Father, I call upon you!¡¯ Nozdormu silently concentrated the words to the spell, and once he had generated enough mana, he unleashed it upon the world.
¡°Erasure!¡±
The pendulum stopped, and the entire zone surrounding the isle of Quel''Danas took on a monochrome hue. It was as if all color had been driven away from the world, and had been replaced with the cold stark reality that one day every sun across the galaxy would explode, and the universe would go dark.
Time seemed to halt, and all eyes turned to Nozdormu.
The pendulum halted, and with it, the beating hearts of every listener.
All across the island, whether they be Horde, Alliance, or Covenant, they all dropped to the ground clutching at their hearts as they experienced asystole. The cessation of a heartbeat!
Wide eyes filled with disbelief, and hands desperately clawing into loose gravel was the sight that graced Nozdormu''s view.
His lizard eyes took it all in with a cynical perspective. What was done was done. He would adjust the timeline accordingly. Besides, what good did the Elves ever do the Horde or the Alliance?
Nozdormu snorted to himself, and glanced at the survivors of his spell.
All those save for the Bronze Dragonflight or the few wearing Nightsong''s Amulets were on the ground breathing their last.
Nozdormu narrowed his eyes and looked down at Nightsong.
He had expected her survival. She was a Shard of Akatosh, and currently Undead.
Yet her being Undead was precisely why this spell was so deadly, and could affect her in the first place.
As powerful as Nightsong was, it was her soul that made her special. Housed in a decaying form, it could not bring out the full potential of her might, nor could it shield her from his spell as it ordinarily would.
In short, Nightsong may be standing, but her power was rapidly fading.
The pendulum''s still form was actively sapping her of her energy, making her easy pickings.
A swipe from the remaining Heroic Dragon sent her tumbling downward, crashing down next to her spawn.
She weakly looked to Varrus with an apologetic, devastated look. Like a parent that had failed their child in all the worst ways.
Nozdormu fed off this interaction, and descended from his lofty heights so that he may gloat over the Anamoly¡¯s demise.
For countless millennia, he had awoken from nightmares in which he faced this woman.
It was something he thought he would never overcome.
Yet he had triumphed, only for her to return!
But this time, he had won outright!
¡®Perhaps Murozond was not so insane after all.¡¯ Nozdormu thought to himself.
¡°Do not worry about me, Varrus. Take Syra, and go. Between the two of you, I know you will eventually find victory.¡± Nightsong weakly said.
¡°I will not give up.¡± Varrus defiantly stood up and faced Nozdormu. Magic twirled in the young Elf''s hands, yet Nozdormu did not take it seriously.
He was the Aspect of Time.
A demigod!
He knew how powerful Vandercross was, and would be somewhat concerned if he faced the boy alongside his wife, and Kael¡¯Thas Sunstrider. But that concern would be alleviated this day.
No longer would he fear the wrath of the Dragonborn!
¡®Yes, perhaps alerting the timeline is in my best interest.¡¯ Nozdormu speculated as he watched the touching scene between mother and son. A small grin of schadenfreude alighted his leathery lips.
Nozdormu gently flapped his wings, and descended from the sky to hover just above the pair.
During his inspection, he noticed Dante was missing, and Chromie was badly injured from fighting Vandercross, but they had done their job.
Including himself, there were only 3 true Bronze Dragons remaining on all of Azeroth.
They would rebuild.
¡°Your sacrifices were great, my children. I thank you for your efforts. Know that a new future, one in which we shall not fear the servants of Akatosh awaits us.¡± Nozdormu comforted his followers, and thanked them for their service.
¡°Huff, huff, please Lord Nozdormu, allow me to finish the bastard! He killed Dante!¡± Chromie pleaded to him.
Eying his heavily wounded child, Nozdormu slightly inclined his head.
¡°Take note, Anamoly. You sacrificed yourself to save this wretched spawn, now watch, powerlessly as all you have struggled for disappears.¡± Nozdormu cast a spell on the young Elf with the intent of locking down his movements.
However, much to his surprise, Nozdormu discovered that his mana was sluggish, and had been slowly leeches by the boy all along.
¡°Chromie, why did you not inform me that proximity to the boy would result in my mana being locked?!¡± Nozdormu said in a flustered tone, and flapped his wings to take flight and flee.
¡°Hey, hey, don''t I have a say in this? Why don''t you stick around? Why the hurry to leave? Shouldn''t you have seen this outcome?¡± Vandercross taunted.
The Elf then took out a pale clear, boulder sized stone, and set it down.
A second later, a pattern lit up, and rich, vibrant liquid mana began to pour into the giant crater of the Sunwell.
Elemental energy combined with Light, Life and Arcane burst onto the scene.
The monochrome aura receded like mist pierced by the midday sun.
Color returned to the world, and the pendulum shattered.
Energy surged up from the depths of the earth, and began to encapsulate every Elf on the Isle.
What happened next shook Nozdormu to the core.
Until now, he had not understood the meaning behind Nightsong''s strange magic, but as the power behind the Sunwell returned to the Elves, Nightsong cast a spell that had him quivering in place.
¡°Life. Soul. Return.¡±
The Undead Elf returned to perfect health, and pointed her sword at him.
¡°You are a miracle child, Varrus. I am proud to call myself your mother, and am ashamed for failing to protect you.¡±
¡°Save the sappy speeches for after we have won. Let''s put this prehistoric lizard in the dirt, where he belongs!¡± Varrus smirked back as powerful energies cackled off his hands.
Nozdormu shuddered, and tried to phase out of this timeline and go to the past, only to widen his eyes in shock as he realized his retreat was forcefully stopped.
¡°Shit! Shit! Shit!¡± Chromie cussed when she saw this, and tried to get away, only to be cut down by Vandercross as her injured state severely handicapped her movement speed.
Nozdormu grimly looked on as all he had accomplished in life seemed to be crumbling into dust.
Shuddering in place, Nozdormu shook himself out of his fugue.
He was the Aspect of Time!
So long as there was a singular percentage point in his favor of survival, he would not give up!
¡°Come then, Anomaly, Dragonborn, show me what the slaves of Akatosh are made of!¡± Nozdormu angrily declared.
Before either side began to fight with one another, a portal opened, and a new set of Dragons roared to the heavens.
¡°Well said, well said! Greetings from the future, Nozdormu, may we finally rid ourselves of these pests!¡± A massive Dragon that appeared out fo the portal said.
He had black scales, and a web-like light blue ethereal wings. He oozed menace, and brought along with him 2 other Heroic true Dragons.
It was none other than Murozond, leader of the Infinite Dragonflight, and the future self of Nozdormu!
Two demigods now graced the battle over the Sunwell!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
AN: Read up tp chapter 157 at:
Chapter 129
For the last half hour, Varrus had been busy dancing around dodging stray shots from Nozdormu as he placed the final crystals where the Skyrim UI indicated they should go.
While he was doing this, he ended up having to fend off the notorious quest givers, Chromie and Dante.
As powerful as they were, Varrus noticed that their battle sense was weak, and easily exploited their lack of experience. To him, fighting the pair of Heroic Dragons was as if he were an accomplished MMA fighter taking on a gym bro who never threw a punch in his life.
It was a little challenging since it was 2v1, and he was trying to accomplish a mission at the same time, but victory was within his grasp.
Once he had finally driven Chromie off, and killed Dante, he discovered he could absorb Dragon souls, and unlock the shouts from Skyrim. However, he had little time to focus on that, as when he was about to complete the ritual to restore the Sunwell, Nozdormu had pressed Nightsong down next to him, and he noticed the Aspect''s dastardly spell.
However, uncaring for the lizard''s gloating, Varrus reverse Uno carded him, and placed the last Mana Stone down.
As soon as Varrus completed this long held quest, the Sunwell erupted with an untold amount of energy, and suffused him with strength.
The feeling of energy flowing into him was indescribable. Simply put, mana was like a drug, and his species were known as the High Elves. Varrus had never tried anything hard, but he imagined this excellent feeling must be what someone permanently on drugs with zero side effects would feel like.
In short, it was amazing.
A whole host of notifications dinged in his peripheral vision at the same time that Nozdormu began to take to the skies in fear.
Sparing them a quick glance, Varrus couldn''t help but smile at the new status effects acting upon his body.
[Sunwell: Unlimited Stamina, 100% Mana Regeneration, Unlimited Lifespan, Immune to Disease, Damage Increased: Elemental: 20%, Life: 10%, Light: 10%, Arcane: 50%]
[Sunwell Sage: Within 5 mile radius, increase the effectiveness and power of all spells by 300%]
[(Racial) Sun State: Skin becomes magically golden. Grants: levitation, and all spells increase damage/effects by 25%. Lasts 1hr, activatable once a day.
Combine, and channel the various energies of the Sunwell into a (weapon, armor, spell) once a day.]
Sucking in a deep-borderline orgasmic-breath, Varrus felt like a gambler that had just won big!
The effects of the Sunwell granting things like unlimited stamina, and longevity were welcome, and expected.
But Sunwell Sage, and Sun State? This was a welcome surprise!
Besides acting as security, he now knew why the Convocation was headquartered on Quel''Danas. As whoever had a connection to the Sunwell, and sat on top of it was basically unbeatable as long as the enemy wasn''t overwhelmingly powerful!
Hell, it explained why the Elves weren''t expansionary. Who would want to risk their life on some foreign soil when the population rate couldn''t keep up with the conquest?
It was much, much easier to hold a relatively small section of land about the size of England, and cover it in a barrier than to take on a continent.
Clucking his tongue, Varrus almost lost himself in his imagination. The improved enchantments alone would vastly improve Silvermoon''s armies, and the Covenants force projection!
On top of that, he-and presumably the rest of the Elves-had a new racial trait!
Like the pokemon, Evee, Elves could assimilate any type of mana. In Canon, a group of High Elves took on a massive amount of Void energy, and transformed into Void Elves. The racial ability they gained allowed them to open rifts, and teleport great distances.
With the sudden influx of energy, a transformative evolution forcefully took place all across Quel''Thalas.
Elves took to this new form like a starving man a loaf of bread.
No longer were they Blood Elves, lost in the rage, and fires of revenge. The bitter resentment at the loss of the Sunwell had been replaced with a resplendent hope for the future.
If the crowning of Kael¡¯Thas was the return of the King, and a promise for security, then the rebirth of the Sunwell was the return to Elven supremacy!
Varrus snapped his eyes open, revealing magnificent glowing blue eyes.
What he saw was a fresh new world.
Where before, there was a crater, many dusty crags, and a desolate wasteland, there was now green everywhere he looked.
The sound of gushing water tickled his ears. Looking into the pool of water, Varrus saw the reflection of a familiar woman standing next to him.
It was his mother!
Blinking his eyes, Varrus realized a moment later, it was the living form of Nightsong.
She smiled at him, and saluted with her sword, then gestured with her chin.
Looking up, Varrus saw Nozdormu spread his wings wide, and roar at them in defiance.
¡°Come then, Anomaly, Dragonborn, show me what the slaves of Akatosh are made of!¡±
Varrus clenched his jaw at the sudden revelation. He had had his suspicions that this might be a world infected by the Aedra and Daedra, but he had hoped against it.
The dark temple near the Kobolds abode, as well as the statue and Worgen he had fought underneath the church in Gilneas were suspicious. Come to think of it, the amulet of the plague god he had seized from those Elven cultists months ago had a symbol belonging to Peryite, one of the Daedric Princes!
Furthermore, if Nozdormu''s dialogue was to be believed, his mother was related to Akatosh somehow?!
Shaking his head, Varrus decided he would talk to Nightsong later. For now, they needed to two piece this giant fried chicken, and put an end to this raid!
Activating the Sun State transformation, Varrus became alight with a golden glow. His mana signature began to skyrocket, and he felt a newfound power.
¡®So this must be what Syra feels like every time she enters her Holy Void transformation.¡¯ Varrus idly noted as he began to levitate in place.
Clenching his fist, Varrus was about to unleash a supremely powerful spell-one buffed 325% dmg modifier-however, a portal opened up, and deposited a new foe.
¡°Well said, well said! Greetings from the future, Nozdormu, may we finally rid ourselves of these pests!¡±
Varrus recognized the beast as Murozond, the leader of the Infinite Dragonflight! Alongside him, he had brought 2 more Heroic Dragons!
The twin Aspects of Time side eyed one another, and a silent communication seemed to pass between the two of them.
Varrus knew that they wouldn''t fight against one another, as was typical, but instead, would team up against him and Nightsong!
¡°Trust in your mother, Varrus, and follow my lead. We can take them.¡± Nightsong reassured. This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
Looking at the beautiful super model that was his mother, Varrus could only nod along.
The confidence, the sheer dominance radiating off of her. Varrus almost couldn''t believe Old Man Vandercross had finangled his way into a relationship with this absolute unit of a woman!
Nightsong smiled, then opened her mouth for a shout.
¡°Joor. Zah. Frul!¡±
A moment later, a wide green blast covered the sky.
Both legendary Dragons phased out their bodies to evade the attack, but it was impossible to dodge!
This attack struck at their very soul!
¡®Dragonrend! It''s dragonrend!¡¯ Varrus internally cheered excitedly as he watched the spell connect.
Both Nozdormu, Murozond, and the 3 remaining Heroic Dragons were struck by this green wave, and were forced to the ground!
Since Nightsong had briefly seized the initiative, Varrus didn''t want to squander it, and took the opportunity to perform a spell he didn''t have the capacity for before the Sunwell was restored.
¡®Crystal Forest!¡¯ Varrus internally visualized the spell he learned from his father''s memory crystal.
A moment later, translucent spikes, branches, trees, and vines sprouted all around him.
Using it like a channeling spell, Varrus drew deeply upon the Sunwell, and constantly pumped out more and more of the Mana Stone constructs.
¡°You have learnt your father''s spells well.¡± Nightsong complimented with a hint of jealousy coloring her voice.
¡°Eh heh, honestly, I can''t wait to learn your magic, Nightso-ahem, mom. I''ve never seen a blast that wide before.¡± Varrus quickly amended himself when he saw the disappointed look on her face.
¡°Hmph. Enough lip from you. We may have gained the momentum, but arrogance will lead to a swift demise. Your father taught you this lesson when he grew overconfident in the Sunwell, yet perished anyway, did he not?¡± Nightsong chastised.
Varrus sighed. He never thought he would be nagged in another world!
¡°Yes mother.¡± Varrus grumbled to himself, then turned to focus back on the fight.
While he controlled the Crystalline Forest, he couldn''t easily cast other spells, as it was a control spell that took constant attention.
Through this connection, he could observe every movement of the Dragons as if they were on video.
Twitching a finger, and muttering a phrase, the branches formed spikes, and began to try and pierce the overgrown lizards. Vines looped down and attempted to entangle limbs, and roots burst from underneath, searching for any flaps or gaps in their scales.
But most importantly, the forest constantly drained its inhabitants of their mana!
Mana that was then funneled back into the crystals for Varrus to use!
Already, one of the Heroic Dragons was struggling, and was squirming around like an insect that had been sprayed with a cleaning solution.
Despite all its struggling, the time Dragon ended up becoming nothing more than a withered husk of bones and dust once it had been sucked dry!
Varrus chuckled to himself as its soul flew into him. He now had six unsent Dragon souls to use, and could fully learn any 2 shouts from Skyrim!
However, as powerful as this spell was, he was still dealing with two legends!
The twin Aspects flapped their wings creating a mighty gust.
While they couldn''t yet take flight, as they were still grounded due to the effects of dragonrend, they had conjured up a timenado!
A whirlwind of pale-yellow energy in the shape of a cyclone ravaged through the forest, and completely erased whatever material it touched!
No, worse than that, it sent the crystalline substance a few seconds into the future, where Varrus had no hold over it. The Dragons then opened their jaws wide, and began to nom on them like it was candy!
Varrus quickly came to the stark realization that they were regenerating their mana by eating his Mana Stones.
Balling his fists, Varrus was at a loss as to what to do. The crystal''s main purpose as an offensive tool was to absorb mana, and counter spells. However, this was only true for attributed mana, such as elemental, Arcane, Void, etc.
Indirect attacks, and time based magics were outside of his scope of practice!
¡°Tiid. Bah. Kest!¡±
(Time. Wrath. Tempest)
Nightsong shouted from beside Varrus, and unleashed a timenado of her own.
When the twin cyclones collided with one another, time seemed to freeze, and black cracks in the air began to rip and crackle.
¡°Fool!¡± The twin Aspects cried in a panic.
¡°You would threaten the safety of the entire plane, Nightsong?! Is it not enough that you would reset this world in Akatosh¡¯s image?¡± Nozdormu panicked, and as he regained his strength, finally took flight.
A second later, a piercing metal screeching sound threatened to burst Varrus''s eardrums, and he heard the mocking laughter of an insane God.
¡°Cheese? Cheese for everyone!¡± A Scottish accented male¡¯s voice boomed out.
¡°Fucking Sheogorath.¡± Varrus muttered in disbelief when he heard the cheerful, insane voice.
It would seem that the clash between the two creatures of time had torn open a dozen tiny tears into Oblivion, into the Shattering Isles, home of the Mad God, Sheogorath!
Seconds after Varrus came to this conclusion, giant flaming wheels of cheese began to descend from the heavens. Wherever they crashed, they struck with the full force of a Heroes full powered attack. Large pits and craters the size of large ponds began to form due to this extremely odd method of attack. It became such a problem, Varrus feared that they would destroy the nascent Sunwell!
¡°We must hurry to end this conflict, and close the portals, should they open even further, we would face something even I would not care to combat.¡± Nightsong cautioned to Varrus.
Locking his lips, Varrus tried blocking one of the flaming cheese wheels with his crystalline forest, but found that while he could block one, the follow up blocks of cheese were just too powerful.
Was this the casual power of a True God?!
At that moment, when both sides were in a state of shocked disbelief, and were poised to strike down one another, a fourth party made themselves known.
¡°Heuh-lolololo!!!¡± A piercing scream came from over the horizon.
A green whirlwind of murder and rage crested a hill, and stared down menacingly at the Dragons.
¡°Nozdormu! Know that I, Grom Hellscream have suffered humiliation not once, not twice, but THREE TIMES at your hands! There is no honor in fighting alongside your cold skinned misbegotten ilk! I will see your scaly hide mounted on my walls!¡± Grom roared so loudly, it shook the air.
Roughly pushing past the Orc''s shoulder, Syra stood next to him, and pointed her buster sword at the twin Aspects.
¡°Me too! Taking me away from my husband, and ambushing him behind my back! Unforgivable, unforgivable, unforgivable (x10)!¡± Syra slammed her blade into the earth, and unleashed an immense bloodlust, and the aura of Holy Void surrounding her had more than tripled in size since Varrus had last seen her fight.
¡®The restoration of the Sunwell seems to have done wonders to my wife. Well..at least she¡¯s in high spirits!¡¯ Varrus wiped some sweat from his forehead as he listened to Syra''s tirade.
After finishing her statement, Syra waved, and blew a kiss at Varrus.
¡°Look at who I got to fight by our side!¡± Syra gestured towards the violent Orc standing by her side.
¡°Should I be jealous?¡± Varrus quirked an eyebrow and smirked.
Syra lowered her head, and the light of madness seemed to grip her as her hair covered her eyes.
She raised her sword, and looked like she was about to ram it straight through Grom''s back!
¡°Kidding, I was kidding! You''re a good girl, Syra, and deserve all the head pats!¡± Varrus swiftly held up his hands, and pleaded with her.
¡°Eh heh~ I knew you''d be proud of me!¡± Syra withdrew her sword, and rested it on her skinny shoulder as if it weighed nothing.
¡°The portals are widening, cease this foolishness!¡± Nozdormu entreated, his seeming fear of Sheogorath temporarily outweighed any spite he felt towards Nightsong.
¡°Still so weak.¡± Murozond scoffed, and then in one shocking move, he bit into Nozdormu''s neck.
¡°What-what are you doing? With me gone, you shall cease to exist!¡± Nozdormu weakly muttered as his life began to drain.
¡°The future has become the past! There can only be one Nozdormu!¡± Murozond reveled in his act of murder.
Upon consuming the flesh, Murozond also consumed the soul of his past self.
Varrus wasn''t one to allow an enemy to transform, but his actions were so sudden, so unexpected, that the Aspect of Time had completed his act of betrayal all in a matter of seconds!
A bright white light exploded from Murozond''s position, and everything seemed to slow down.
The amulet Nightsong had gifted him earlier was cracked, and Murozond suddenly seemed 100x faster.
Varrus went to lick his lips, and he felt a claw pressing against his shields. They fizzled and snapped into place.
Empowered by the Sunwell buff, they were extremely durable.
However, his opponent was a demigod!
After a moment of resistance, Varrus heard the shields pop like a balloon, and suddenly, a claw was piercing his chest. Blood exploded out of his back, and he collapsed to his knees, vomiting copious amounts of red vital fluids.
¡°All will bow beneath the Aspect of Time!¡±
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
AN: Read up to chapter 158 at:
Chapter 130
Pain like no other assaulted Varrus as the tip of the Dragon''s claw pierced his chest, and tossed him to the ground.
His vision turned black, and his guts felt like they were on fire. At the same time, everything else felt cold. The blood in his veins were ice, the ground appeared shaky, as if his head was on a swivel cam hung from a rope.
Varrus''s consciousness threatened to leave him as he saw his health bar begin to rapidly drain from the corner of his eyes.
Gulping a mouthful of blood, Varrus felt the sticky fluid stain his robes. Blinking back the pain, Varrus could barely wheeze as he experienced this extreme trauma in some fucked up state of slowed down time.
Each agonizing second ticked by as if it were a minute. This observation wasn¡¯t figurative, as time stretched thanks to the Dragon¡¯s magic.
All the while, Varrus felt the presence of Murozond hovering over him. The hot breath of the Infinite Dragon''s breath snorted from his nostrils repeatedly, and bowled Varrus over on his back.
It was a simple fall, one his Stamina, and Elven Grace should account for, but the hole in-between his stomach and his chest was so gut wrenching, and the time dilation so powerful, he could barely position himself at all, and badly landed on his back.
¡°Ehhhmrrrrmm.¡± A slow-mo moan escaped his lips.
As soon as he hit the ground, Varrus felt the blood accumulate in his lungs, and a terrifying drowning sensation began to take ahold of him.
His eyes ever so slowly widened, and he tried to cough as best he could. Yet Murozond''s mastery of time made each action take several seconds to nearly a minute longer to accomplish than normal.
The simple task of clenching a hand into a fist took upwards of 15 seconds.
Yet at the same time, the experience of pain had been sped up! Essentially, he was experiencing double or triple the pain level of an ordinary person!
Varrus attempted to cough, and clear his lungs.
Fortunately-or unfortunately depending on how one viewed it-his thoughts were not sluggish, or diminished in any way.
He was perfectly cognizant of everything happening to him.
It was such a bootleg situation he found himself in, even concentrating to raise his hand and cast a spell seemed impossible.
If he was experiencing real time, Varrus thought he could manage to do what needed to be done. But between the movement speed of his hand being so slow, and the sped up sensation of agony spreading from his wounds, it was impossible for him to even cast a Fast Heal!
There was hope, however. Varrus had a few perks that would automatically heal himself.
They were:
Emergency Teleport - When you fall below 15% Health due to combat damage, you briefly turn invulnerable and teleport back to the location where you entered combat.
Sacred Guardian - Emanate a 20 foot aura of protection. Any living allies within range who fall below 30% Health are automatically healed 150 points. This effect has a 30 second cooldown per target.
Wheel of Life - In combat, gradually accumulates ambient lifeforce from the environment and releases it in periodic bursts, healing you 100 points every 30 seconds. Becoming affected by a different healing spell or effect restarts the cycle from the beginning.
In short, he had a few safety nets to rely upon.
But really, he didn''t want to wait on them, as he was already nearing 50% hp, and he felt like absolute death!
He could even see some of his intestines hanging out of his body, and he felt a fresh wave of blood trickling out of him. The ground and grass beneath him were slick with his own vital fluids, and his pain fuelled mind recalled the ace up his sleeve.
It was the one ability that could get him healed up quick.
Warriors Flame. An ability that periodically affected an ally or enemy during combat restoring health, mana, or stamina.
He couldn''t rely upon the periodic nature of this ability, but there was one method to forcefully activate it.
The final perk in the Restoration skill tree was Apotheosis. It was a once a day ability, and he would have Warriors Flame spread to all nearby targets, himself included!
Right as Varrus was about to activate the spell, he heard something that turned his ice cold blood absolutely frigid.
¡°I have observed you through the time stream, Vandercross. I am aware of your proclivity towards the healing arts. That being said: Freeze!¡± Murozond flapped his wings, taking flight as he withdrew his claw, his massive body somehow dodged Nightsong''s follow up attack, and he hit Varrus with a pale-yellow orb of energy just as he was activating Apotheosis.
Warriors Flame instantly spread to every other person present, and began to heal his allies, whilst Murozond shed the flame abusing his time magic.
As for Varrus, he noticed that his hp wasn''t improving whatsoever! Curiously, it wasn''t decreasing either.
Checking his status, Varrus saw a new condition.
[Time Dazed: The wounds on the body are trapped in the current state.]
Varrus felt like passing out once he read that line of text. The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
¡®Are you fucking kidding me?!¡¯ Varrus internally raged.
The anger briefly cut through his suffering, but only for a moment.
Breathing heavily, Varrus angrily glared at the oversized lizard. It spared him a brief glance of smug satisfaction, before returning to the fight with his mother.
All the while, flaming wheels of cheese were slowly dropping down all around him, and exploding with the power of a Heroes full force attack.
¡°Varrus!¡± Syra yelled, and ran to his side.
The slow aura that Murozond had unleashed affected her differently thanks to her enchanted gear attuned for enhanced speed.
Where Varrus moved like he was wading through molasses, Syra was swift like a cheetah. To an ordinary person, this would still appear impressive, but it was a far cry from Syra''s former super sonic speed.
¡°Varrus!¡± Syra said again, this time in desperation as she stood over his bloodied form, and looked on in a panic.
Varrus slowly blinked his eyes, and tried to say something to reassure her. Yet only garbled, slowed words and blood left his mouth.
Syra kneeled down, and gently stroked his hair. Her hand glowed with Holy energies, yet she couldn''t heal him whatsoever.
Varrus wanted to chuckle over her concerned look, and at the fact that she was trying to heal him. Her healing spells weren''t exactly up to par. But when he heaved his chest, all he experienced was that drowning sensation again as the fluid moved around in his lungs.
A queasy expression fell upon his face, and he tightly closed his eyes.
¡°I can do this. I won''t lose you.¡± Syra said, voice thick with emotion.
Varrus felt hot tears falling onto him, and opened his eyes to see Syra an absolute mess.
He wanted to reach up, to hug her, to comfort and squeeze her, yet he felt as if he were paralyzed since he moved so slowly.
Eventually, after many failed attempts, Varrus managed to grip her shoulder with one hand, and point a finger with the other.
Syra turned her head back, and saw that he was gesturing towards the now 2v1 fight between Murozond, Nightsong, and Grom.
¡°I can''t leave you. Never again. Never again will I leave your side.¡± Syra shook her head, and said with a hint of madness.
Varrus silently stared into her eyes, and bore down upon her with whatever will he could muster.
¡®Do it Syra. Kill the lizard, and free me from this cursed state.¡¯ Varrus all but willed to her.
Syra deeply inhaled as she seemed to get the message.
Leaning down, she brushed his hair aside, and planted a kiss on his lips.
When she pulled back, his blood coated her face, covered her clothes, and was on her hands.
¡°I will make him pay, my Sun. I will be right back.¡± Syra promised, then charged at Murozond in a cold fury.
~~~~~~~~~
(The event from Syra''s POV)
Before today, Syra never thought she would be fighting alongside Grom Hellscream. He was one of her few unresolved enemies. Yet when she successfully recruited him, and presented the Orc to Varrus, the praise had made her alight with a warm glow.
Not only had she added a powerful weapon to her husband''s arsenal, but he had restored the Sunwell! Something that seemed so impossible, that most other Elves thought was impossible, he accomplished!
Truly, she had married the greatest man of their time! No, the greatest man of all ages!
But when this tragedy struck, she was completely caught off guard.
The sudden strike and near death of her love almost sent Syra to her knees in shock. For a very brief moment, all she wanted to do was curl up into a ball and sob. At the same time, anger, regret, and self doubt assaulted her psyche.
He had warned her not to leave his side. Yet she was selfish, and went anyway.
Syra began to beat herself up. If only she had stayed by his side, Varrus would still be hail and healthy.
Eyes going red, tears streaked down her face, and a complex concoction of sorrow, suicidal tendencies, and apocalyptic anger coursed through her system.
Yet when she saw he was still breathing, she knew she felt butterflies in her stomach, and had run to him in a hurry.
Killing the Dragon, or inflicting self-harm upon herself were secondary compared to Varrus''s health.
Over the last few months, she had been studying healing arts under Dawnbringer, but even then, she couldn''t get past the time-barrier placed on Varrus!
When he gave her that look. The one telling her it was fine, that he wanted her to go out and kill. It almost made her crumple in place. She never had an issue doing what had to be done for the family, but she had abandoned him earlier, and this was the result. If she left him now, who was to say one of the flaming cheese wheels wouldn''t fall atop his head?
Turning to the sky, she slashed one in half that was headed straight towards them.
An explosion of super hot gooey cheese splattered all over the place, and she used a barrier of Light to block it all.
She wouldn''t allow a single droplet to touch her precious.
Syra bit her lips and felt like ants were crawling on her skin as she internally warred within. Should she focus on vengeance, or stay with her man?
If another cheese wheel, or stray attack landed in this position, he was a goner. But if they wanted to remove this time-based scourge afflicting him, slaying Murozond would likely do the trick. That, or her mother-in-law seemed like she might have some way to cure him.
Syra was fraught with indecision, and eyed Varrus with worry.
¡®What should I do?¡¯ Syra thought to herself in a crazed panic.
Never before had she felt so indecisive in her life. Never before had she felt as if her entire world was on the verge of collapse like today.
They had had some close calls.
But this?
This hit different.
Watching Varrus suffer in a perpetual state of agony tore apart her heart, and there was nothing she could do that would immediately alleviate this pain.
¡°What should I do?¡± Syra cried hot tears as she leaned over Varrus, and grasped his cold, clammy hand.
¡°Gdmn. Gohg. Go!¡± Varrus garbled several times, before he got out one word.
Syra felt tears spill down her face like a tidal wave as she witnessed the effort Varrus went to to get his message across.
¡°You are the strongest man I know.¡± Syra leaned down, and embraced him for a kiss.
Her heart was in an absolute mess, yet the struggle Varrus put forth injected a sense of admiration and love into her spirit.
She would do as he requested. While she feared to step even one foot away from the man of her dreams, she knew deep down that slaying Murozond would be the key to his recovery.
¡°I will make him pay, my Sun. I will be right back.¡± Syra promised, then charged at Murozond in a cold fury.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
AN: Read 25 chapters ahead at:
Chapter 131
Syra thrummed with a newfound power as the rebirth of the Sunwell supplied her with a constant source of mana.
The influx of alternative energies clashed with her carefully balanced Holy Void state, as there was no Void mana coming from the Well.
However, this was to Syra''s advantage, because she could take that overwhelming mana, and combine it with her dark emotions to create a new balance. To create a new and improved Holy Void state!
The training she had done with Tess and Dawnbringer had opened her eyes to finer control of her abilities. Dawnbringer had taught her in the ways of the Light, whilst she had acted as the instructor for Tess. This act of being both teacher and student had proved to teach her more on the subjects of Light and Void than any book ever had!
No longer limited by the constant consumption of Mana Stones, and having learned the finer control of these two elements, Syra had discovered a method to safely increase the amount of Void and Holy energies throughout her body.
One eye golden, one purple. Her veins began to flash gold, and her skin turned umbra, her hair flashed purple-blonde, and an aura of benevolent-destruction surrounded her.
As a result of this transformation, the mass time dilation spell seemed to become eaten away all around her. Although her amulet that Nightsong had gifted her had cracked, it almost didn''t matter, as the Holy Void devoured all.
Taking one last glance back at Varrus, Syra found herself to be calm. Calm with the simmering energy of a bubbling volcano moments before eruption that is.
Flicking her hand, she cleaved through a flaming cheese wheel like it was nothing, and set her eyes on the source of this calamity.
Flying in the air, Murozond was constantly evading both Nightsong and Hellscream.
It seemed that unlike Nozdormu, he had no scruples, and was opening up portals from different eras of time without a care in the world.
Natural disasters such as lightning storms, blizzards, tsunamis, and twisters were summoned from all across the timeline.
Hellscream didn''t care about any of this, and remained on the offensive, but Nightsong had a duty to protect her son, and frequently paused in her assault to clear away these catastrophes.
Additionally, many Heroes that had passed on in the past had been summoned from beyond the pale, and were combating her two allies. For every additional summon Murozond completed, another tear into Oblivion would rend open. More and more nonsensical madness began to flow in from the realm that the Mad God called home.
Exploding confetti, ink that made one depressed if inhaled, and the sound of a party could be heard on the other side, as it seemed some people were using their life and death struggle as entertainment.
Aa for Syra, she ignored these odd occurrences, as she was confronted by three former adversaries before she could make it to combat Murozond.
The past selves of Zul¡¯Jin, Rommath, and Greymane were all brought to the future, and barred Syra''s path.
¡°I be gettin visions of me as a head, mon! You Elves be bad juju, ima enjoy takin your scalp.¡± Zul¡¯Jin widely grinned, and began to radiate the power of the Loa. The green Forest Troll ran at Syra with the enhanced speed of elemental wind boosting his stride, and an enchanted axe in hand.
¡°The Sunwell¡I must have it.¡± Rommath hungrily intoned. The former Grand Magister chanted a spell, and a purple, foggy miasma began to cloud the air. As it spread towards Syra, it ate away at the grass, and withered it within seconds, and stone melted away like sugar stirred in water.
¡°You! You are the girl who turned my daughter on me! You must pay for your insolence, Elf!¡± Greymane twirled his twin enchanted blades, and ran at Syra in a fury.
Syra slammed her blade into the earth, and clasped her hands around the pommel of her sword.
"Varrus nor''soothe bel''atathal.
Varrus nor''soothe bel''lothol
Varrus is my sanctuary." Syra chanted, completing the ritual prayer, Sanctuary, to meet Rommath''s spell.
A radiant beacon of golden light shined straight up into the sky, then spread outward, pressing Rommath''s fog back.
At the same time, this radiant glow provided a healing, and invigorating buff upon Syra.
As soon as she finished chanting, Zul¡¯Jin and Greymane were upon her.
The Troll breathed green dragonhawk fire at her whilst closing with his axe, and Greymane moved to her left flank in an attempt to catch her off guard.
Syra flicked her giant buster sword forward with one hand, blocking the fire. Twirling in place, she narrowly dodged Greymane''s slash, and redirected the flames at him, forcing the Gilnean King to defend himself.
While Zul¡¯Jin had closed within a second of this happening, and was slamming his axe down, Syra utilized her superior speed, and offhand to cast Judgement.
A golden hammer spawned above Zul¡¯Jin''s head, and slammed down.
The Amani Chieftain erupted with a torrent of elemental lightning all around his body in an effort to rebuff the attack.
Electrical arcs crackled as they began to eat away at the hammer, and Zul¡¯Jin was free to swipe his axe directly at Syra as she had over extended herself.
¡°End of da line girly.¡± Zul¡¯Jin grinned wide, and with great pleasure as he brought his axe down towards her neck.
Syra silently smirked, and ducked low, then moved.
Her incredible speed saw her evade Zul¡¯Jin''s axe, and had him missing a pair of legs a second later. Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.
¡°Huh?¡± Zul¡¯Jin confusedly got out as he fell sideways.
As he collapsed to the ground, his legs began to reform, only to have them eaten up by the Holy Void energy constantly churning at the stumps of his knees.
Syra ignored the Troll, and continued her blitz forward, moving towards Rommath.
The mage Blinked backwards to create distance, and summoned a corrupted tornado of flame and Void between them.
Syra cut through it with an unstoppable momentum, and powered through the storm like a locomotive that gave no fucks.
Rommath calmly retreated further, and started creating hundreds of basketball-sized black orbs that littered the air.
They then began to shoot out beams of Void energy at Syra, forcing her to dance around countless attacks as if she were at the disco.
This minefield of a technique severely limited Syra''s options, yet she continued to advance.
Any beam that struck near her, or in front of her path would melt rock, and carried with it the power to instantly evaporate anyone without protection.
During her blitz towards Rommath, Syra was forced to block a beam, and noted that even with her shroud of Holy Void energy coating her body, the attack was powerful. If she took more than 4 of them at once, she would be a goner.
¡®Then I won''t be hit. Wait for me, Varrus. This nuisance will soon end, and you will shower me-not Hellscream or Nightsong-me for winning this battle!¡¯ Syra excitedly thought to herself as her battle hunger bubbled forth.
Grinning with a slight edge of madness, Syra felt some glee as the calm and composed archmage was desperately trying to escape her grasp.
She had closed in, and he was about to Blink away once more, but she countered it by flooding the nearby area with a dense cloud of Void magic, temporarily preventing any portals or teleportations in the area.
¡°So I die by the hand of Anasterian''s child no matter the timeline. How pathetic.¡± Rommath muttered to himself seconds before he was diced and cut up into pieces by Syra''s blade.
¡®I wonder what he meant by that?¡¯ Syra tilted her head to the side, and thought in reflection.
At the same time that she stood silently over Rommath''s rapidly disintegrating corpse, Greymane had finally caught up to her, and silently struck at Syra from behind.
Without looking back, Syra reversed her sword, and impaled Greymane in the throat.
¡°Hate. You-¡± Greymane gurgled out before he collapsed to the dirt dead.
Syra retracted her sword, and flicked the blood off its length.
She then turned to the Troll, and saw him desperately trying to crawl away in fear.
A sickeningly sweet smile played across her face as Syra skipped over to the downed Troll.
¡°Stay back! I''m warnin you mon!, ¡± Zul¡¯Jin spoke in a terrified tone.
The Forest Troll was sweating, and shaking so hard he could barely hold his axe.
Syra wanted to play with this cretin, like a cat that had caught the mouse, but she had better things to do.
Pouncing forward, she moved to cut off his head.
¡®It would be nice for the other Zul¡¯Jin to have some company, right?¡¯ Syra thought to herself with a mischievous chuckle.
¡°S-stay back! I won''t letchu take me head again! Bomswandi, gods of death, anybody, take ma soul, I beg of ye!¡± Zul¡¯Jin cried out as he pierced his own heart.
¡°That can be arranged laddie!¡± A strange sounding voice boomed from one of the portals to Oblivion.
A moment later, Syra saw an ethereal Zul¡¯Jin leave his body, and get sucked into one of the portals.
Syra had tried to destroy it, but felt an invisible barrier blocking her strikes.
¡°Naughty, naughty my girl. I don''t like it when my play things are toyed with¡unless I do! Here, a gift for sending me something so fun, little mad girl!¡± The voice chuckled, and a grinning silver skull fell down in front of her.
Syra instinctively tried cutting the item in half, but found that she did no damage to it.
She frowned, and ignored the skull when she saw that it just sat on the ground, and did nothing.
Sparing a glare at one of the portals, Syra added someone new to the list.
No one stole her kills. Besides, she had planned on gifting the Forest Troll''s head to her husband! The matching set would have gone well with the spikes she planned to put on their house''s wall!
Huffing to herself, Syra turned to join the battle against Murozond.
What she saw shocked her.
¡°You are no father of mine! You lack honor, you are no true Orc!¡± A red Orc slammed into Hellscream, and pushed him back.
¡°Son, Garrosh, you are a proud warrior, but you do not understand¡¡± Hellscream replied with clashed blades, but he was weaker in his delivery than Syra had ever seen.
As someone who had clashed with Hellscream multiple times, she knew he was stronger than this. This behavior of his was most uncharacteristic!
At the same time that the Orcs were dueling, Nightsong was slowly beginning to be overwhelmed as Murozond landed a devastating blow against her, driving the General deep into the earth with a pile driver. Upon completing this move, he unleashed a horrifying breath attack that froze time all around Nightsong, and was slowly cocooning her within an inescapable time barrier!
Syra couldn''t watch any longer, and moved to support the woman she had looked up to as a little girl.
Nightsong may not respect her or even talk to her, but Syra desperately hoped to win her approval, and bring their family closer!
Rushing forth, Syra gave everything she had into a sneak attack from stealth Murozond''s back, and hit nothing.
In retaliation, Syra caught a stray tailwind to her midsection for her troubles, and was sent flying into the ground.
Time magic flowed around her energy shields, undoing them, and she felt the full force of the impact upon her body.
It was only thanks to her Light magic enhancing her natural defense that she could survive such a fall.
Pulling herself out of the rubble, Syra grimly looked up at the Dragon as it hovered in place.
Nightsong was trapped, frozen in a crystal of time stasis, and unable to move or interact with the world.
¡°Foolish girl, I see the past, present, and future. I even see your husband scurrying nearby. Come out, come out, pest!¡± Murozond gloated, and began to glow with power as he prepared a massive spell.
Syra felt her heart tighten. She wasn''t worried for herself, but for Varrus! How was he able to fight with this type of wound?!
It was in this moment of panicked love for her husband that Syra received a ping on her scrying orb.
\\Be ready// Varrus messaged.
Syra relaxed her shoulders, and gripped her sword in a stance that prepared herself for a mighty leap. Mana swirled around her, and she concentrated all the power into the edge of her sword. She would trust in Varrus, and be ready for one final, all out attack.
Her husband was always such a stage performer. It seemed he had something special prepared for the conclusion to this act.
Glancing up at Murozond as he chanted the words to his spell, Syra felt glee, and eagerly awaited her husband''s surprise.
¡®Varrus, my love. Together, we shall make him into 12 sets of clothing for our children to wear.¡¯ Syra thought to herself as a wide, murderous grin spread across her face.
Chapter 132
Whilst Syra was battling with the villains of the past, Varrus had been busy trying everything and everything he could to cure himself, and rejoin the fight.
The most obvious solution, and first thing that came to mind was the Dispel Magic spell.
After struggling through the pain and slowed time dilation, Varrus cast the Alteration spell, only to find it had almost no effect.
¡®Sonuva bitch!¡¯ Varrus internally cursed as all the effort he put into casting the spell resulted in no change.
When Dispel Magic shrouded his form, Varrus was cured of the time dilation for all of one second before it kicked back into place.
It turned out that Murozond was actively releasing an aura field that constantly applied the debuff upon him.
Meaning, it didn''t matter how many times he casted Dispel Magic, the only way for him to rid himself of this damned curse was to either slay the overgrown lizard, or to leave the range of his aura.
Once he learnt that, he knew that he could teleport away with the perk, Dimension Door.
Dimension Door - Grants the "Dimension Door" power. At will, creates a magical doorway that teleports you to the location of your Home Mythal.
Home Mythal was another perk that permanently boosted his Alteration spells at a designated location. As it stood, he had set it up at his manor in Silvermoon.
All Varrus would have to do was port home, and heal himself, then fly back on his magic carpet.
Unfortunately, he had not mastered long range teleportation, and it would take some time to return. However, this strategy would rid him of this nearly unbearable pain. The only problem was that he would still be susceptible to this insane slowed time.
¡®Slowed time¡of course, why didn''t I think of that?!¡¯ Varrus thought to himself, and wanted to slap his forehead.
Nozdormu had brought 6 true Dragons with him, and Murozond 2. All of them were dead, and 8 Dragon souls were sitting comfortably in his inventory.
If he wanted to ¡®move faster¡¯ he should counter the Aspect of Time''s spell with another time spell!
Varrus felt like laughing, but the blood build up in his lungs made him choke-cough instead.
¡®Alright, enough messing around. Teleport home, fly back to the Sunwell, kick some ass.¡¯ Varrus dialed in, and made up his mind.
Taking one last look at the battle, he wanted to see how his wife was doing, and to message her via scrying orb not to worry if she saw he was missing.
However, what he witnessed was jaw dropping.
Nightsong was being overwhelmed, and Grom was battling it out with his son, Garrosh Hellscream!
Meanwhile, Syra had been clobbered backwards, and was facing a demigod 1v1!
Thanks to his wound¡¯s time stasis, and constant passive healing, Varrus produced a fresh mouthful of blood, and vomited more than was humanly possible.
¡®Damn, if I leave now, will I be in time to help Syra out?! No, no, no, there has to be another way! I can''t leave Syra to fight this beast on her own!¡¯ Varrus thought to himself, and wracked his brains for a solution.
After one agonizingly slow minute later, Varrus had found his answer amongst the Dragon Shouts.
It was: Become Ethereal!
In its description, it read: the Thu''um reaches out to the Void, changing your form to one that cannot harm, or be harmed.
Forgoing his Dimensional Door plan, Varrus decided to help Syra ASAP. He had a devilish plan in the works too.
Slamming 3 points into Become Ethereal, Varrus fully unlocked the Shout.
On his first attempt, he only got the first word out, but the time dilation and pain got to him, and he couldn''t complete it.
On the second attempt, he almost had it, but failed on the last word.
¡®Alright, come on man, Syra''s life is on the line. We got this!¡¯ Varrus psyched himself up, and made damned sure to get it right.
Opening his lips, and speaking the words with great difficulty, Varrus eventually managed to get the Dragon Shout out on his third try.
¡°Feim. Zii. Gron!¡±
(Fade. Spirit. Bind!)
A second later, Varrus''s entire form became see-through blue, and he resembled a generic ghost.
While he couldn''t damage anyone in this form, and offensive spells/combat would break it, he didn''t feel any pain whatsoever!
His next move was to use the Slow Time Shout.
Ordinarily, there would be a cooldown of about 10-15 seconds between Shouts, but Varrus had triggered one of his Speech perks.
It was Force Redoubled.
Force Redoubled (2) - 25/50% chance to reduce the cooldown of any shout to 3 seconds.
Within a short 3 seconds, Varrus had dumped 3 more souls into Slow Time, and was Shouting it out.
¡°Tiid. Klo. Ul!¡±
(Time. Sand. Eternity!)
Upon finishing the spell, Varrus waved his arm, and found he was no longer moving in slow motion. His time Shout, and Murozond''s time dilation had canceled one another out! A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
However, both of the Shouts had a limited duration, so he had to make the most out of it!
Running towards the conflict, Varrus cast Shroudwalk upon himself, and became invisible.
While he snuck his began closer and closer, he began to message Syra.
While he was doing so, the big Dragon in the sky was raising his voice, and doing the cliche villain''s monologue about being all knowing and such.
¡°Foolish girl, I see the past, present, and future. I even see your husband scurrying nearby. Come out, come out, pest!¡±
Varrus rolled his eyes, and positioned himself nearby.
\\Distract him now!// Varrus sent out to Syra.
Syra got the message, and began to unleash a powerful series of Holy Void slashes.
When she was about to make contact, Murozond phased out of the timeline, and dodged everything.
The second she passed through the spot where he had been, the Dragon returned to reality, and was a second away from completing his spell.
¡®Gotchu dude.¡¯ Varrus internally triumphed as he shot out the spell he had been preparing.
He had been watching these time Dragons fight for a while now, and he recognized that they were very obvious in how they fought. Phasing out of reality came almost second nature to them. Varrus realized if he could force Murozond into this state, that he would be wide open for an attack as soon as he thought he had the upper hand!
In short, as soon as Syra passed him by, this arrogant-ass lizard couldn''t help himself and tried to attack her in the back!
Even knowing Varrus was camping nearby, he still went for it, so sure of his supremacy!
Varrus took this split second interlude where Murozond had just re-entered reality to ambush him.
Tossing his hand forward, a pale blue orb no bigger than a fist flew at high speeds, and slammed into the hulking Dragon''s side, interrupting his spell.
Varrus had cast the Master tier Illusion spell, Last Word!
Last Word: Interrupts target spellcaster. If a spell is interrupted, temporarily silencing them for 10 seconds. Any other Illusion spells cast on the target within 10 seconds last four times longer and are twice as powerful.
As soon as he did so, he broke both the invisibility, and ethereal form. The pain returned to him in a wave, yet he couldn''t help but celebrate.
¡°It cannot be!¡± Murozond exclaimed, and flapped his wings in an attempt to evade Varrus''s follow up attack.
Whilst Varrus wanted to taunt the Aspect of Time, he only had 10 seconds to pull off his plan, and he had to fight through the pain to do it!
Gritting his teeth, Varrus enacted the devilish plan he had cooked up when he first decided to use the Become Ethereal Shout.
¡°Syra, don''t let him escape, hold him in place!¡± Varrus shouted out.
¡°Move!¡± Murozond used a breath attack on Syra, yet she conjured purple-gold wings of Holy Void, and flapped to the side.
She repeatedly struck at the webbing of his wings, and significantly slowed his progress.
¡°Good work, Syra!¡± Varrus cheered his wife on as he moved on to the next step of his plan.
Keeping up with the trend of using Illusion spells, he cast Scream of Pain.
Scream of Pain: Lowers the Health percentage of nearby creatures and humanoids to the caster''s Health percentage. The lost Health is restored after 20 seconds.
Looking at his health bar, Varrus noted it was hovering at 51%.
¡®Perfect.¡¯
¡°Oi, lizard! You claim to see the past, the future, and the present. But you failed to foresee the inevitable!¡± Varrus unleashed his spell, and tossed an orb at the Dragon.
Murozond had his back turned to Varrus, and was busy trying to hit Syra with his claws, but she was too fast, and evaded everything he tried to throw at her.
By the time he had heard Varrus''s speech, and had turned back to either intercept or dodge it, it was too late.
As soon as Scream of Pain hit him, the secondary effect of Last Word triggered, doubling the effect of any Illusion spell Varrus cast.
That meant Murozond wasn''t dropped down to a ¡®simple¡¯ 51% due to losing 49% hp. No, thanks to the doubling effect, he lost a staggering 98% of his entire hp all at once!
In reality, the Dragon had no such thing as a health bar, but his body suffered a catastrophic loss reflecting what 98% loss of life would entail!
In short, Murozond erupted in a shower of blood and gore.
Each and every pore on his body exploded outward, his scaly flesh flew into the sky, his eyeballs imploded like crushed grapes, and all the bones in his body cracked at the same time.
The sound of his twisting skeleton was so great, it almost rendered Varrus deaf, such was the damage wrought upon this once all mighty demigod!
¡°Lost. All. Lost. Without me. The future. Doomed.¡± Murozond babbled incoherently.
While he wanted to pick this time traveler''s mind, and discover the secrets of Azeroth, Varrus only had 2 seconds left on the silencing effect of Last Word.
He wasn''t going to chance this annoying piece of shit pulling a cockroach villain strat, and teleporting away, or doing a full heal by reversing time on his body.
Besides, Varrus was still sitting at 51% hp, his guts were hanging out, and the Slow Time Shout would be expiring soon.
It was time to end this.
Blinking on top of Murozond, Varrus silently drew his blade, and shoved it deep into the Dragon''s skull.
Murozond gasped one last time, then his spirit left his body, and was absorbed into Varrus.
The time dilation was over. He had killed the beast. He won.
¡°It''s done.¡± Varrus muttered, then stumbled to one knee.
His wounds began to fully bleed now, and his health percentage was rapidly declining, and had already reached 35%. Any lower, and his passive perks would kick in, and full heal him in a moment.
¡°Varrus!¡± Syra ran, and caught himself before he completely collapsed.
¡°I''m fine.¡± Varrus weakly smiled as he started to spam Fast Heal so he wouldn''t worry her any further.
Within 10 seconds, his guts had been magically restored, and he was as healthy as he had ever been.
Syra merely looked at him in concern.
¡°Well. Maybe it was pretty scary, but I couldn''t abandon you.¡± Varrus smiled reassuringly.
¡°What you did was very dangerous and brave.¡± Syra clunked her forehead onto his, tears streamed down her face, and Varrus tasted salt on his lips.
¡°Yeah, it''s all good now. As long as we have each other¡¡± Varrus pulled up her chin, and kissed her on the lips.
¡°We can kill anything.¡± Syra flashed a murderous grin.
¡°Well, I was going to say ¡®we can retire and live in peace¡¯ but that works too.¡± Varrus winked.
¡°Varrus, you troublemaker.¡± Syra nuzzled close to him, and embraced him uncaring of the fact that he was covered in literal gallons of his own blood.
Stroking her hair, Varrus gripped her hand tightly, and held her close.
With the death of Murozond, the Bronze Dragonflight was no more!
¡°You have been avenged, mother.¡± Varrus whispered to himself as he stood tall.
The Sunwell had been restored, and his family''s ancient enemy had met their demise.
Today was a great victory for House Vandercross!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
AN: Read up to chapter 162 (30 chapters ahead) at:
Chapter 133
Sitting on a patch of grass next to the Sunwell, and holding Syra''s hand, Varrus was relieved to have done away with the Bronze Dragonflight, and gotten himself healed.
Whilst he had a few perks that would have restored him, having his wounds placed in a time loop was one of the most dastardly things he had experienced since transmigrating to the World of Warcraft.
Thankfully, this victory came with a big bonus. Not only did he acquire the souls of 8 true Dragons, but he also acquired Murozond¡¯s, which was worth 6 souls in his Skyrim UI.
If he wanted to, Varrus could fully learn 2 new shouts, and start another one at the moment.
Furthermore, he also acquired a new, permanent status condition.
[Aspect of Time: Phase yourself into an alternate reality for 10 seconds. Time based magic is easier to understand, and your past is immune from being erased in the timeline.]
This new status had Varrus salivating. For one, time magic was one of the most powerful forms of magic imagined by man.
Secondly, by becoming the Aspect of Time, this had Varrus speculate that he could absorb all the other titles. Meaning, he could potentially become the Aspect of: Magic, Life, Dreams, and Earth.
Considering Maligos intended to start a war in Northrend against all magic users sometime within the next 6 years, perhaps Varrus would be able to test that theory sometime in the future.
However, he had to focus on the here and now.
While he was sitting with Syra, there were two developments taking place in front of them.
In one instance, Nightsong had punched her way out of the time cocoon, and had started slicing the flaming cheese wheels in half. The ancient General was hard at work closing the mini tears in reality.
Or as Varrus had grimly come to realize, were holes to the Shivering Islands, aka, Oblivion.
This was a grim realization, because this meant he wasn''t solely in the realm of Warcraft. With the Daedric Princes, and presumably the Aedric deities involved, Azeroth was sure to be in more turmoil than it already was.
From the sound of Nozdormu''s villainous monologue, his mother, Nightsong, was a servant, or creation of Akatosh. Specifically, he called her Akatosh''s daughter.
In Skyrim, and all Elder Scrolls games, Akatosh was considered by many to be the strongest Aedra, and had directly created the Dragons and the Dragonborn.
From Varrus''s perspective, he wondered if Nozdormu meant Nightsong was a creation, like a person building a lego set and being proud of their creation, or was Nightsong like the child of Akatosh in the traditional sense?
Furthermore, was she a Dragon, or a Dragonborn? Because from the Bronze''s dialogue, it almost sounded to Varrus that he used his mothers name as a title. He alluded to Nightsong resetting the plane?
¡®Is my mom the equivalent of Anduin "the World Eater¡± for Azeroth?¡¯ Varrus thought to himself in shocked realization.
Widening his eyes, Varrus looked up to his mother using unique shouts he hadn''t heard in Skyrim to close the portals to Oblivion.
She stood toe to toe with a demigod, and was only caught in a bind once Murozond had absorbed Nozdormu''s energy.
It truly made Varrus wonder just how strong his mother was, now that she had cured her undeath, and was connected to the Sunwell.
¡®Well, at least she''s on my side, and isn''t competition for Syra.¡¯ Varrus merrily thought to himself, and squeezed his wife''s hand.
Syra squeezed back, and nuzzled her cheek into his shoulder. At the same time, however, she angrily jabbed a finger at his chest. Her finger poked on the spot where his robe was completely torn, and the Dragon claw had pierced him.
She glared up at him like a kitten denied its milk.
¡°Hey, we won''t, didn''t we?¡± Varrus shrugged his shoulders.
¡°You worry me, Varrus. How many times will we get lucky until our luck runs out?¡± Syra huffed.
Varrus sighed. He didn''t want to think of that. Even great men like Ceasar or Alexander accomplished the impossible, only to have their amazing runs cut short.
The only thing Varrus could do was to strengthen himself, his wife, and his allies until they were so strong, they didn''t have to rely on luck and close calls.
¡°The power of the Sunwell will see us prosper, my Star. With its power, we will become great.¡± Varrus said with conviction.
Syra flicked Varrus on the nose, then turned to the only other thing going on in the Sunwell: the fight between father and son, the fight between Grom and Garrosh Hellscream.
Interestingly, they did not disappear with Nozdormu or Murozond''s passing. Unlike in kids cartoons, the ¡®bad guy''s¡¯ army didn''t magically disappear when they died.
They had been dragged to this timeline, it would take another spell to send them back.
Which meant the Elves were still fighting with the Horde and Alliance forces! Varrus was going to look at his scrying orb, and scout around, when Syra brought his attention back to the Orcs.
¡°What are we going to do with them?¡± Syra questioned.
Varrus lowered his orb, and rubbed his chin as he paused to consider her words.
A few ideas sprang to mind when he saw the two exhausted Orcs battling one another. Their weakened state had Varrus consider his options.
For one, he could let this duel come to its natural conclusion. He could then swoop in, and claim a pair of Grand Soul Gems.
With the 300% boost to any spell or magic Varrus cast granted by the Sunwell, this was an extremely tantalizing offer.
Varrus theorized that an entire set of buffed Grand Soul enchantments might uplift any Heroic tier person up to the realm of legends. That they would become as strong as a demigod!
In short, this was his optimal path.
However, there was one other option that was worth considering.
He had a spell under the Illusion tree, one he was planning on using on Garithos.
It was Enslave the Weak.
Enslave the Weak: Forces a hostile humanoid below 20% Health to serve your will permanently until slain. (limited per 200 base mana)
It was an incredibly powerful spell, but much like his summons under the Conjuration tree, the amount of people he could affect with this spell was limited by his base mana.
As it stood, he had a little over 1,200 mana, and could use this spell on 6 different people at once.
By mentally dominating these two Orcs, Varrus could use the powerful Heroes in the upcoming war against the Scourge.
But perhaps even more significantly, he could send them to Kalimdor, and take over the Horde from within.
By turning the Horde into a puppet state, he would have much to gain.
There were a few hiccups to this plan, however. Such as the pair of Heroic Orcs. Who was to say Thrall or Jaina couldn''t recognize and remove the compulsion? Or perhaps Grom used his rage and somehow got so angry, he broke free of his binds? This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.
If any of that happened, then he would have made a major enemy out of the Horde.
Besides that, Grom was the guy who first supped on the Demon, Mannoroth''s blood, and had broken free of his control. He was also the Orc who gathered Draenei to be used as live sacrifices to open the Dark Portal, and burned Stormwind to the ground, butchering countless innocent Humans in the process.
This pair of father and son, as ¡®honorable¡¯ as they were, had mountains of corpses behind them.
Varrus had been party to a lot of horrible things. Even considering mind control was a scummy idea. But he hadn''t done half of what Gron did, or what Garrosh would do.
Shaking his head, Varrus didn''t know which path to pick, and decided to wait for them to weaken one another further before deciding.
Meanwhile, he checked the scrying orb to see how the rest of the Elven forces were holding out.
With the buff of the Sunwell, Varrus saw that they were absolutely walloping the invaders.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
On the southern front ruined tanks littered the battlefield, and the torn banners of the Alliance fluttered in the wind.
Countless corpses of Dwarves and Humans littered the ground. The Elves of Quel''Thalas treated the restoration of the Sunwell as the number one national priority. No quarter had been given to those who aimed to destroy their ticket to mana sustainability, and immortality.
Only the horses of the knights had been spared. The Rangers soothed the mounts of their fear, and reigned them in to be used at another time.
Amongst the wreckage, a few of the Towers of Jenga, alongside Dwarven copters, and bi-wing planes were smashed to pieces all around the island.
Smoke and flame wafted across the fields of Quel''Danas as the Elves burnt stacks of bodies so that they would never have the opportunity to be raised as Undead.
Among the expressionless corpses, Aegwynn, mother to Medivh, and former Guardian was staring up into the sky with glazed eyes.
With the boost of the Sunwell, and their numerical superiority, the Elves had contained the Alliance forces, and slaughtered them to a man.
Only a small pocket of resistance was holding out, but we''re constantly being harassed by the new Grand Magister, Alistair Bloodsworn, and by Sky Marshal Koren.
Their combined magic and aerial supremacy saw the Alliance forces dwindle bit by bit. It would only be a matter of time before they were completely annihilated.
Meanwhile, Kael and Jan''alai had teamed up to fight against a future version of Jaina, and had pushed the Human mage to her very limits.
The group had battled all across the sky, and torn the earth asunder as they clashed.
However, with the Sunwell active, Kael had a bottomless pit of energy to draw upon. Furthermore, he also had a connection to it like Varrus, and so long as he was within a certain radius, all of his magic was buffed by a 300% margin.
In short, even if Jaina had more power than her younger self, she was no match for the empowered King of Quel''Thalas!
¡°Give up, Jaina. A cold cell is the best I can promise considering our past friendship.¡± Kael coldly demanded as he pointed the flaming blade of Felo''melorn at her neck.
The middle aged sorceress had blood dripping down the corner of her chin, and exhaustion haunted her eyes. Yet the will to go on burned deeply in her eyes.
¡°It never would have worked between us, Kael. Leave your sick, twisted fantasies to yourself.¡± Jaina defiantly rebutted, and began to cast a spell.
An ice barrier began to form between the two of them as Jaina tried to protect herself. At the same time, a hypnotic resonance was admitted from the ice, and directly struck at Kael''s mind. At the same time, a portal began to form behind her leading to who knew where.
¡°Kieer!¡± Al''ar cried out, and broke the hold on his mind.
Kael thrust his sword down, but was halted by the ice block just enough so that Jaina could escape into the portal.
¡°This isn''t over, Your Majesty. The true timeline will be restored. I''ll make sure of that.¡± Jaina icily glared at him, then rolled back towards her portal.
¡°You talk too much.¡± Jan''alai harshly rebuked as she dropped down from the sky, and smashed Jaina''s head into pulp with a swing of her oversized club.
¡°Excellent timing, Jan''ala-¡±
¡°You talk too much.¡± Jan''alai gripped Kael by the scruff of his robe, and pulled him in for a deep, tongue twisting kiss.
Kael''s eyes widened, and he flailed his arms as the breath was drawn from him.
Jan''alai winked at him, then roughly pushed him back.
¡°Like the mace? Figured if my bestie had a giant sword, I should get something that was even bigger! It''s cool, right?¡± Jan''alai twirled the massive weapon around as if it weighed nothing, then rested it on her shoulder as if they hadn''t just fought a difficult foe.
¡°Erm, ahem. Yes, it is very cool. But we must reinforce the others. The northern front is still fighting a powerful Orc shaman, they require our assistance!¡± Kael embarrassedly shifted in place, and was quick to mount Al''ar.
¡°Oi, don''t you run from me, Goldilocks!¡± Jan''alai waved her giant club at him.
¡°It''s a tactical repositioning! Try and keep up, Green Beak!¡± Kael taunted, and took to the skies.
Jan''alai grinned at her lover. She would never grow tired of teasing the fair haired man.
Transforming into her dragonhawk form, she chased after him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
On the other southern front, where King Terenas and the adventurers had pushed forward in an attempt to stop the Sunwell''s restoration, it was a massacre.
Thanks to the script Rho''dan had read aloud, half the Champions of Azeroth had turned on one another, leading to a blood bath.
This left Terenas open for attack. Rho''dan alongside the other 3 members of the Crossguard, and the Illidari Council brought their superior numbers to bear, and curbstomped the Heroic paladin.
The King that once led the Alliance was all wrapped up in chains and wore magically suppressant manacles.
His face was battered and bruised, and the white sheen of bone could be seen peeking out of his broken legs in the midday sun.
¡°Let me guess, someone stole your sweet roll?¡± One of the Crossguard mocked as he lifted Terenas by his hair, then shoved his head into the mud.
¡°I was once brave like you, then I took a-¡± Another member of the Crossguard began, only to get shoved back by Rho''dan.
¡°Okay, you lot have had your fun. He needs to be alive, so that the Highlord can have his soul. Do not damage him any further.¡± Rho''dan sternly warned the other Elves.
The remaining Heroes of House Vandercross looked at Rho''dan in disappointment.
¡°You can still have your fun.¡± Rho''dan gestured towards the still fighting adventurers.
The other members of the Crossguard and Illodari council smirked at one another, then set about bringing pain and suffering to the adventurers.
Rho''dan sighed, and ran a hand through his long red hair.
Managing these murderers was a hassle, but it was all for House Vandercross. His Lord had fulfilled his promise, and delivered on the outrageous claim that he could restore the Sunwell.
Glancing at the injured prisoner by his side, Rho''dan deemed today to be a success.
Pulling out his scrying orb, he messaged Varrus that all was well on his end. He then began to issue orders, and scroll through updates from his scouts and spies.
Furrowing his brows, it seemed that some important developments were taking place on the continent.
It seemed that a battalion of their distant kin, the Night Elves had made landfall on the Eastern Kingdoms sometime in the last week. And he was only now learning about it.
Not only that, but the Naga were seen directing a Demonic Night Elf into Dalaran.
He would have to inform the Highlord once things here had been wrapped up.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
While all this was going on, a white haired, bearded old man in a purple robe, and his balding middle aged servant dressed in a fine black suit were observing the events transpiring on Quel''Danas as if it were entertainment.
They were the Prince of Madness, Sheogorath, and his ever faithful steward, Haskill.
Sitting on a throne in a large empty hall, Sheo had his hand on his chin, and an expression of boredom was on his face.
¡®I don''t think they''re taking this seriously, Haskill! Dozens of tiny gates to Oblivion are scattered overhead, and they''re treating me like a joke! I mean, we''re talking about cheese here, cheese! The stuff doesn''t come cheap ya know. And they''re just ignoring it!¡± Sheogorath ranted.
¡°They simply do not understand my Lord''s gifts. Perhaps the Gatekeeper would teach them a lesson in manners." Haskill suggested in a dry tone.
"No, no, that would be too predictable. I need something with more bite, more menace! Like marmalade, or peanut butter!" Sheogorath waved his hands expressively.
"Shall I?" Haskill arched an eyebrow.
"Yes, Haskill my faithful companion, make me a pb&j, and oh, I suppose we could send the Gatekeeper." Sheogorath demanded, and then said the later half of his sentence as an afterthought.
"Very good sir." Haskill bowed before teleporting away.
When the butler left, Sheo poked at a portal in front of him, and swirled his finger.
A moment later, one of the Shivering Islands greatest defenders, the Gatekeeper was plopped out directly on top of Varrus and Syra.
The 10ft tall Gatekeeper was naked save for a loincloth, had a blade for one arm, and had no eyes.
¡°It''s perfect!¡± Sheogorath slapped his arm rest in pride.
"Your sandwich, sir." Haskill ported back, and handed the food over on a silver tray.
"Oh good. I can''t wait to see the look on their faces when they realize my creation is magic immune!" Sheo chuckled to himself.
"Will you be needing anything else, my Lord?" Haskill enquired.
"No, no, let us watch the show!¡± Sheo leaned back in his throne, and took a juicy bite out of his pb&j sandwich.
Chapter 134
Varrus was basking in the midday sun, enjoying the cool breeze, the love of his wife, and the sight of two Orcs trying to murder one another. In the background his mother was busy closing the tears into Oblivion caused by Murozond, and the massive pool of mana that was the Sunwell shimmered peacefully nearby.
He felt like some ancient Roman emperor watching a gladiatorial fight between ancient Heroes. The only thing missing was a snack, like some grapes, or something savory.
Varrus ran a hand through Syra''s hair, and smiled. However, his smile was quick to turn into a flat line as he heard that damned Daedra masquerading as a deranged Scotsman once again.
¡°Aye laddie, are ya just gon''ta sit ¡®round fondlin your wife? I offer you cheese, free cheese in good faith, and ya spit on my dignity, and my honor as a guest! Tsk. Tsk. Ya shouldn''t ah done that laddie.¡± Sheogorath''s voice chided from one of the portals.
A second later, a massive, familiar pale form pushed its way out of one of the Oblivion gates.
It was a creature familiar to everyone who had played the game: Elder Scroll Oblivion.
It was the creature responsible for guarding the entrance to the Shivering Isles.
The Gatekeeper.
A being crafted from the flesh of Sheogorath''s fallen foes, it served as a nearly insurmountable enemy in the game, and was only weak to weapons crafted from its own bones, and the tears of its mother.
Otherwise, it should have an incredibly tough exterior, and very fast regenerative properties.
As it dropped down from its portal, Varrus tried to get a read on it with his Mana Sight, to determine if it was Hero, or Demigod tier. Yet no matter how he strained his eyes, he couldn''t place how powerful the thing was.
Syra didn''t care about such things, and jumped up to meet the Gatekeeper as it fell. She was so quick, her figure darted past his defense, and the slab of metal she called a sword swung into the creature''s chest.
An explosion of Holy Void energy followed up the slice, creating a vast golden-purple explosion.
However, the Daedric monster remained unharmed, and barely shifted in place from Syra''s strike.
Instead, it roared, and reached down with its sword-arm to pierce her through the chest.
Syra parried aside the blade, and was pushed back by an incredible force. She was sent flying towards the ground, and Varrus thought he would have to make a Drop Zone to catch her. However, a pair of translucent energy wings spread from her back, and she halted her rapid descent with a flap of her wings.
Seeing this, Varrus sighed in relief. He then turned his attention back to the 10ft tall, eyeless, pale monster falling down right on top of him.
Blinking to the side right when its legs were about to collide with the crown of his head, Varrus wanted to test just how durable this thing was.
He started things off with his number one single target spell, Apocalypse.
Casting the master tier Destruction spell with the 300% power boost, Varrus dropped a jet of flames, ice, and electricity on top of the Gatekeeper from all directions.
A loud cacophony of light and explosions tickled Varrus''s senses as he dropped the spell two more times.
It was such a strong outburst of energy, Varrus had to shade his eyes.
¡°Damn it''s tough.¡± Varrus felt his eyebrow twitch as he saw the Gatekeeper walk out of the spell''s radius like it was nothing.
This creature was so calm and composed, it reminded Varrus of a machine, like the terminator tanking a hail of bullets.
It seemed to ignore him, as if he were no more important than a particularly annoying fly to be swatted at, yet not chased after.
The Gatekeeper advanced in a direction opposite him, as it had another destination in mind.
¡®The Sunwell!¡¯ Varrus internally shouted and panicked when he saw where it was going.
Could this thing be trying to use the vast pool of energy to summon Sheogorath onto Azeroth?!
At its current pace, it would reach the font of nearly unlimited power within 10 minutes!
Cursing to himself, Varrus shouted the words to Slow Time, and started throwing out dozens of Raise Wall in front of the Gatekeeper to stall as he desperately came up with a plan.
¡®Syra couldn''t even leave a scratch, and one of my most powerful spells was about as effective at harming the Gatekeeper as water pouring from a shower head. What else, what else?¡¯ Varrus panicked as he searched his spell and perk library.
The beast took about three seconds to break each wall in its path. Additionally, Syra wasn''t trying to match strength with strength, and was harrying the beast as best she could.
Varrus saw that she was hitting it at the joints on the back of the knee repeatedly with super fast strikes. A line had appeared, and the Gatekeeper was already starting to stumble. However, its rapid regeneration was making her task of cutting off its leg almost impossible. At most, she had added 2 minutes to its descent towards the Sunwell.
Varrus felt an unexpected sense of urgency grip his heart. He had fought against the big bad Dragon, what was this bonus boss battle doing here at the end of his marathon sprint?!
Feeling exasperated, he went through his list of abilities in a frenzied hurry. Whilst doing so, it struck him. If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.
Bound Weapons.
He had a whole host of anti-Daedric perks in the Conjuration tree that he never had a use for until today!
In fact, he had four perks that might just help him defeat this pale monstrosity!
Mystic Binding - Bound Weapon spells now summon Mystic Weapons which deal more damage.
Hollow Binding - Bound weapons cut through flesh and spirit, reducing magic resistance by 30% for 5 seconds.
Rend From This World - Bound weapons banish conjured Daedra, turn reanimated undead and deal 100 extra damage to non-conjured Daedra.
Covenant of Coldharbour - Hollow Binding reduces magic resistance by an additional 30% if you control a summoned Daedra or other non-undead minion.
A mad plan began to form in his mind, and he cast all the supporting buffs he had from the Illusion tree, adding to his crit chance, and weapon damage. Thanks to the 300% boost to spells that the Sunwell granted when he was within proximity of it, the normal boost of 125% had now become a 425% damage modifier on all of his weapons.
He then cast Conjure Bow.
Purple light flashed, and an ethereal, Mystic Bow appeared out of a portal. Gripping it in his hand, Varrus took a second to admire it, then he cloaked himself in Shroudwalk, turning himself invisible.
Crouching down, and seeing that his stealth meter indicated he was completely hidden, Varrus took a deep breath, and took aim.
His Archery skill, which he had trained way back for the Vandercross gala, was sitting at 85, whilst his Sneak was at 100.
A whole host of perks activated as his vision zoomed in on the target, and time slowed.
Out of all the Archery abilities, one was worth mentioning above all others: Hawkeye.
Hawkeye - Grants the "Hawkeye" power. Once a day, slow time and focus on your foes for 10 seconds, looking for opportunities for a killing shot. Finding their vulnerability takes 1 second per 125 Health. Once you do, you may shoot them for an instant kill.
Focusing for 10 seconds in a state of slowed time, Varrus saw little pinpoints light up on the Gatekeeper where its weak spots were.
Unfortunately, it seemed to have more than 1,500 hp, meaning he couldn''t go for the instant kill. However, the fact that it had weak points at all was encouraging!
Once the 10 seconds had passed, and he released his arrows, the perks activated, and his damage boost was a total of 600%, each and every hit a critical strike thanks to the effects of Hawkeye.
In fact, the multiple perks affected his draw speed as well, and thanks to the slowed time, and his enhanced low-tier Heroic speed, he was able to launch dozens of pale-blue, ethereal arrows in those 10 seconds.
The air whooshed, and the fabric of reality seemed to bend sideways. Any small Oblivion gates that they passed by instantly closed, and the state of the plane returned to a state of stability when they moved by.
Moving with the swiftness of speeding bullets, they were no match for Syra''s speed, but when aimed at a target that had its back turned, they proved sufficient.
As a result of the Daedra''s ignorance, every arrow hit its mark.
One moment, the Gatekeeper was swatting at Syra like a gnat, and clobbering its way through piles of stone. The next, it was shredded into a pile of meat paste as the swarm of arrows tore it asunder.
Breaking his invisibility, Varrus looked down at his bow in wonder. It seemed that no matter how far a Skyrim player deviated, he would always return to the stealth-archer build.
Marveling at the destruction, Varrus figured if he ever got his hands on adamantium, he would have to make himself a bow. While he still thought magic was the way, he couldn''t deny the effectiveness of a good old-fashioned stealth kill.
¡°Cheater! You angered the wrong God, laddie! I told you Haskill, they need to face something tougher, like peanut butter and marmalade!¡± Sheogorath''s voice sounded from one of the few remaining portals.
"But sir, the gates aren''t wide enough, forcing them any more, and you''ll enter a weakened state!" Haskill entreated.
"So be it, my faithful servant. So be it! The only one who disrespects me, is me! And if I can''t even stand me, then who are they to disrespect me, the Mad God!¡± The sound of Sheogorath slamming his throne resounded.
Varrus, however, was ignoring all of this, and didn''t want to suffer a single second longer interacting with this annoyance.
Aiming his bow, he shot a swarm of arrows at each and every tear in reality. The bigger the hole, the more arrows it required, but that didn''t concern Varrus as he had crafted thousands of arrows for his troops, and like any good Skyrim player, had a large stockpile in his inventory.
Oblivion gate after Oblivion gate closed, until only one remained.
Right when he was about to close it, a peanut butter sandwich was about to fly out. Unlike the Gatekeeper, Varrus could see the mana radiating off of it, and he wanted no part in fighting some demented sandwich!
¡°Fucking Mad God.¡± Varrus muttered to himself.
He then copied one of the only bow spells he had learnt from Lor''Themar, the Arcane Arrow, and channeled all his mana into one, overwhelming shot.
The 300% boost to spells from the Sunwell took effect, and his arrow collided with the sandwich monster as it was about to enter Azeroth.
His attack exploded on impact, and severed the portal as the monster was mid summon, cutting it in half.
Varrus felt surreal as half of a lifeless, half eaten sandwich with bite marks dropped to his feet.
¡°Let''s this be a reward for your hard efforts, and entertainment. I can''t wait to kill you next time!¡± Sheogorath''s cheerful voice sounded from the last portal before it closed forever.
¡°My reward is a sandwich? Not even the Wabbajack or something cool?¡± Varrus muttered to himself, unimpressed.
Placing the item in his inventory, Varrus read the item''s description.
[Sandwich of the Mad God: Contains a Daedric Prince''s salivary essence. Consume: ???]
¡®Yeah, never eating that. Although who knew when a Daedric Prince''s essence could come in handy?¡¯ Varrus thought to himself.
¡°Varrus!¡± Syra shouted his name, and collided with his chest like a cannonball.
¡°Varrus! Varrus! Varrus!¡± Syra repeated his name, and grabbed him by the forearms with the strength of a gorilla.
¡°No, you can''t have the sandwich.¡± Varrus joked.
Syra rolled her eyes, and planted a wet kiss on his lips to stifle anymore smarmy replies.
Varrus held his wife, and soothingly stroked her hair. ¡°It''s alright, I''m not going anywhere.¡±
Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Nightsong drawing the scene on a pad of paper. He smiled at her and shifted his eyes at her in the universal ¡®we should talk later¡¯ motion. Varrus had a lot of questions for her, about her past, and about her unique brand of magic!
While he exchanged a look with her, he also saw Rho''dan coming down over the hill with a prisoner in hand. It would seem his erstwhile bodyguard had been successful.
Very nice.
Blowing a strand of hair out of the way, Varrus allowed himself a grin, and looked up towards the sky.
¡®Please no more surprises for today. Just let me enjoy the win.¡¯ Varrus silently prayed as he enjoyed the gentle breeze, and the sound of the Sunwell''s pool of water shifting lazily like a slow moving river or pond.
~~~~~~~~
AN: Read up to chapter 164 (that¡¯s 30 ch ahead) at:
Chapter 135
Once the portals to Oblivion had been shut, the only thing that was currently drawing Varrus''s ire were two stupid Orcs bashing into one another.
¡°You abandoned me!¡± The large red Orc, Garrosh roared.
¡°To secure our future!¡± Grom roared back.
¡°All lies, you are no Hero, no true Orc!¡± Garrosh kept up his tempo, his axe slammed down with enough force to crack the earth asunder.
Both warriors were breathing, and gasping great bellowing breaths. Yet for all their exhaustion, Varrus felt as if he were watching one of those legendary bullshit week long duels.
At this rate, getting them low enough for his mind control idea would take much longer than he would have liked.
¡®Seriously, I did not sign up for family counseling! I have enough shit to deal with between Faedra and Nightsong¡speaking of Faedra, I''ll have to ask that afk twat what exactly she was doing during the siege on the Sunwell!¡¯ Varrus internally raged.
After watching the two idiots clash again and again for another 5 minutes, Varrus had seen enough.
¡°Syra, you take the big green one, and I''ll take the big red one. Wait for me to strike first, I have something devious in mind.¡± Varrus said with a mischievous wink, then cast Shroudwalk on himself.
Syra replied with a mad grin of her own, then entered a state of invisibility.
While he was still a mage at heart, when it came to stealth kills, his bonuses added up most when using a dagger or a bow.
The dagger, for example, had a 15x modifier on damage due to his Sneak tree, and this didn''t even begin to detail the bonuses One-Handed and Illusion spells had on his dps output.
Sneaking up to Garrosh, Varrus had a dagger drawn. Once he got within a foot of the furiously battling warrior, he felt the bound item he had gifted to Syra, and knew she was invisibly behind Grom.
Their window of time was narrow as the two warriors typically clashed with one another all over the place, like two shounen animals rivals duking it out.
Varrus was feeling a little cheeky, and also wasn''t 100% sure he would be able to land a killing blow with this dagger strike.
So he developed a quick one two punch of a plan.
First, he went with the two spells, Magicka Void, and Curse of the Silent.
Magicka Void: Reduces the Health percentage of all targets to match their Magicka percentage.
Curse of the Silent: Drains 8 points of Magicka per second for 30 seconds or until the target successfully casts a spell.
As the pair of leather Orcs were warriors, even if they were Heroes, the amount of mana within them shouldn''t be all that much.
Besides that, the effects of his Sunwell Sage trait boosted all magic by 300%, significantly increasing the drain.
While they were distracted, he shot out two ethereal-almost invisible, completely silent orbs.
Varrus watched on with baited breath as Curse of the Silent landed seemingly unnoticed by the duo.
For his second strike, Varrus resorted to his activatables.
Among his many perks, he had abilities that said ¡°activate this ability for xyz effect upon the enemy.¡±
In practice, Varrus discovered he had to be close enough to touch the enemy for it to work. Typically, as a mage, and modern man, he preferred to kill his enemies from a distance, not up close and personal.
But in this case, he decided to use Blind Guardian.
Blind Guardian - Activate any non-hostile creature or humanoid in combat to summon an illusion of the target. The illusion fights for the target for 60 seconds and the target won''t flee for its duration. This effect has a 300 second cooldown.
At the same time that he did this to Garrosh, the perk, Wraithwalker took effect, which boosted the strength and duration of all Illusion spells by 50%.
At the same time, he activated Nemesis on Grom, which summoned an illusory clone of him. This clone was fifty percent stronger than the exact copy.
Both apparitions struck at the pair of Orcs at the same time.
¡°Elven tricks! Where is your honor?¡± Grom growled as he clashed with the illusion of himself.
¡°When I have the chance, I''ll wring the neck of every smug little shit I can get my hands on!¡± Garrosh snarled.
As they were distracted, and exerting themselves, Varrus had been looking at them with his Mana Sight.
The more energy they exerted in fighting, the faster their mana diminished.
Ever so slowly, the amount of mana in their bodies ticked down to less than half.
Right when the illusory clones were about to be broken by the pair of Heroic warriors, Varrus hit them both with the Magicka Void.
Almost instantly, the father and son fell to the ground as they vomited copious amounts of blood, and had many of their bones loudly snap and crack.
Grom''s entire right arm burst into a puddle, and Garrosh fell down as his left leg snapped off.
They had been reduced to around 50% of their health.
The sight was truly monstrous, and the effects of the Illusion skill tree showcased the power of percentages.
Varrus almost lost himself in the moment, and it was only when the pair of Orcs were angrily howling that he snapped himself out of it.
Still invisible and stealthed, Varrus moved forward, and firmly stabbed his dagger into Garrosh¡¯s eye socket. Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.
As the blade pierced deeply, and searched out the red Orc''s brain, the powerful warrior reached up both hands, and gripped Varrus''s wrist with one, whilst the other covered his face.
The mighty warrior''s hand was like a vice grip, and threatened to snap Varrus''s thin Elf, twirling wrist into dust, and transform his head into a crushed watermelon. The sound of his Ebony Flesh, and protection enchantments grinding resounded in Varrus''s ears.
However, for all of Garrosh''s strength, he had fallen prey to another one of Varrus''s perks.
The One Handed perk, Coiling Python paralyzed anyone struck by a dagger''s power attack for 30 seconds, and increased critical damage dealt by 9x.
Garrosh grunted as he tried to move his body. Red energy swelled around him in an incredible rage, and Varrus felt that if Garrosh were in peak physical health, he would surely shrug off this paralysis.
However, it was for this very reason that Varrus had stacked the deck, and didn''t just stab the Orc warchief in the back.
Withdrawing another dagger from his inventory, Varrus went to town, and hacked and hacked and hacked at the Orc.
By the time he was done, he was covered in blood, and had a wild look in his eye.
He wanted to wretch at the stench, or feel some kind of way at the near death experience, but all he felt was triumph.
Cutting through Garrosh''s neck, he held the massive thing up by sticking a sword under it, and waved it in the air.
Looking to the side, he saw Syra smiling at him in both worry and awe.
Smiling back, Varrus heard the ping of two Soul Gems being pocketed, and couldn''t be happier.
Ears twitching at the sound of boots crunching on gravel, Varrus turned to see Rho''dan approaching with a bound prisoner.
Kicking the somewhat familiar looking Human to the ground, Rho''dan saluted.
¡°Highlord, we have captured an enemy Hero for you.¡±
¡°Well done, Rho''dan. Syra, if you would?¡± Varrus said, and glanced over his shoulder.
The Human was gagged, and spitefully glared at them, but his hatred meant nothing to Varrus as he was about to gain yet another Grand Soul Gem.
Syra didn''t need to be told twice, and dashed forward, claiming the man''s head.
Once the paladin died, Varrus heard another collection ding, and was quite pleased with himself.
Between Greymane, and Alpha Prime a month ago, he had 5 to his name.
He was giddy with the thought of the power these enchantments would bring him.
Varrus was already considering what to do. Spell Power would be the focus as always, yet for his secondary enchantment, he wondered if he should focus on speed like Syra, strength so he could match warriors, or perhaps he stuck with protection so he could keep his ass alive? Or perhaps he should do a mix of sorts?
It was all a lot to take in.
¡°Ahem, Highlord, I hate to interrupt your¡business, but I have something to report.¡± Rho''dan coughed into his hand.
Varrus blinked his eyes as he was broken out of his internal monologue.
He noticed Syra had a somewhat sour expression on her face, and he squeezed her hand in comfort.
¡®She must have been enjoying my silent company. I''ll have to find more time to spend with her after this. Although that will be difficult, what with planning the invasion of Lordaeron.¡¯¡¯ Varrus noted to himself.
Shaking his head, Varrus gave Rho''dan his full attention.
¡°Alright Rho''dan, what''s the situation?¡±
¡°Sir, the renegade Orc from the future, Thrall has escaped the encirclement! His Majesty is searching for him, but results have proved inconclusive¡± Rho''dan saluted.
Varrus frowned as he was met with the bad news. If he recalled, the majority of the Convocation were holding the north, the strongest of them being Lor''Themar.
Was the shaman so powerful that he could persist against that many Heroes?
At the end of the day, Lor''Themar was only a ranger. Perhaps only Syra, Nightsong, Kael, or himself could give the former warchief a go at it.
One day when he had time, Varrus would have to track Thrall down and end the threat, but with the imminent invasion of Lordaeron, now was a suboptimal time to go on an adventure.
¡°This is extremely vexing.¡± Varrus rubbed his eyebrows. ¡°Well, keep an eye out for him. How are our casualties?¡±
¡°We lost 8,301 golems, 12/32 of the levitating combat platforms were destroyed, 16 more are moderately to severely damaged, and only one Tower of Jenga survived. 1,236 Elves are listed as dead, and a further 5,829 are awaiting medical treatment.¡± Rho''dan spoke as he read the numbers off his scrying orb.
¡°That''s what the golems are made for, but over a thousand losses? We don''t have many numbers to spare.¡± Varrus shook his head, and tsked.
¡°The restoration of the Sunwell saved many lives, you are a legendary figure in our society.¡± Rho''dan comforted.
¡°Yeah, yeah, still doesn''t take away from the sting of loss. Tell me some good news.¡± Varrus waved off Rho''dan''s attempts at cheering him up.
¡°Councillor Telonicus has been inspired by the Dwarven vehicles, and is studying them in a frenzy. Perhaps the blueprints to a new golem variant will emerge in the coming year.¡± Rho''dan shrugged his shoulders.
¡°That is good news.¡± Varrus responded with a nod.
He had experimented with semi-autonomous flying towers, and golems this battle. If he could add tanks and planes to his toolkit, Varrus would be quite pleased.
¡°Yes, but there is more. I do not know if this is good or bad, however, I have received a report that Night Elves had been spotted in Lordaeron. My spies have confirmed that they¡¯ve been here for at least a week now.¡±
Varrus quirked an eyebrow.
¡°That certainly is interesting.¡± Varrus said trailingly as he began to think over what the implications of this were.
With the recent invasion of the Burning Legion, Illidan Stormrage had been set free from prison to combat the Demons. As a practitioner of the Fel, he had garnered distrust amongst the Night Elves, and was exiled after driving off Archimonde.
Sailing across the ocean, he gathered a powerful artifact known as the ¡®Eye of Sargeras¡¯ which was a body part taken from the puppet avatar that the Titan God used to enforce his will on Azeroth.
With that eye, he had the power, but not the means to focus it into a spell. Travelling to the ruins of Dalaran, he would find the book of the Guardian, Medivh, and cast a spell to destroy the Lich King.
In Warcraft 3, Maiev Shadowsong and Tyrande Whisperwind chased after him, and stopped him before he could magically nuke Ice Crown, the home of the Lich King.
As Varrus was stroking his chin, and going over what he knew of the event, he suddenly felt the ground shake, as if he were experiencing an earthquake.
¡°I have you.¡± Syra said, and caught Varrus from falling over.
¡°This must be the work of Illidan.¡± Varrus hissed to himself.
However, a moment later, the shaking picked up in intensity.
Rapidly blinking his eyes, Varrus realized one ¡®minor¡¯ detail about the hunt for Illidan.
Maiev only caught up to, and stopped Illidan because Kael was there to guide her to him.
With Kael at the Sunwell, there was no one to halt Illidan''s spell!
¡®Shit! Does this mean all of Northrend is getting sunk into the ocean, or is only Ice Crown getting torn apart?!¡¯ Varrus worried.
Whichever the case, a geological disaster was sure to visit the rest of Azeroth, and there wasn''t anything he could do to stop it!
Pulling out his scrying orb, he sent a priority message to the best mages that he knew.
//Kael, Telonicus, Tae''thelon, Alistair, return to the Sunwell immediately. We must prepare a spell to protect Quel''Thalas from a flood!\\
~~~~~~~~~
AN: The butterfly effect works both ways. Varrus changes Kael to become King, but he isn''t there to lead Malfurion/Maiev to stop Illidan. Likewise killing the Bronze Dragons was great for the Highborn now, but what else will happen due to their absence? Let the chaos begin!
Read up to chapter 166 at:
Chapter 136
While Varrus was restoring the Sunwell, multiple significant events around Azeroth were occurring.
Within the ruins of Dalaran, city-state of the Human mages, and the Eastern Kingdoms most coveted center of learning, Illidan Stormrage, Night Elf Hero and exile had arrived.
Slaughtering his way within the Scourge infested, derelict city, he was aided by the Naga, a serpentine race of humanoids that slithered instead of walked, and lived within the depths of the ocean. Formerly High Elves, they had made a dark bargain to survive the Sundering when the Well of Eternity exploded 10,000 years ago, and split the world.
¡°Do you have it, Lord Illidan?¡± Vashj, a female Naga Hero questioned from the side. Her voice hissed, and a forked snake''s tongue flickered out of her mouth.
¡°Yes, yes, this is the Book of Medivh. The man was mad, but a genius!¡± Illidan stroked the cover of the book lovingly.
Green runes lit up, and Illidan flipped through the pages until he found what he wanted.
¡°I will begin the ritual. You and your Naga stand guard, there must be no interruptions.¡± Illidan commanded.
¡°But of course.¡± Lady Vashj inclined her head, and spread out her forces.
¡°Finally, I have the knowledge necessary to defeat the Legion.¡± Illidan softly muttered to himself as he dragged a clawed hand over the pages.
His brother was too weak, too soft to understand the sacrifices he had made. The leathery wings, the tail, the great horns sprouting from his forehead. None of which was in pursuit of power for powers sake. It was all to acquire the knowledge he so desired.
Now, by using the Eye of Sargeras as a power source, and the Book of Medivh for the spell, Illidan would be able to destroy the Lich King, and gain Kil''jaeden''s trust.
Once he had been accepted as a lieutenant of the Legion, Illidan would be free to pursue the knowledge he so coveted without being under such intense scrutiny. Then, with the truth unveiled, he would use that knowledge to usurp Sargeras himself!
Beginning the words to the spell, Illidan felt the world shake as he targeted the region of Ice Crown, where the Lich King was shackled.
His ritual continued unmolested, and the world shook!
¡°You are a slave, the same as me. Know that by freeing you, I will have freed us all.¡± Illidan seriously intoned as he watched the tower of the Lich King crumble and collapse via a scrying spell.
Watching the scene unfold, Illidan felt a sense of triumph as he witnessed the Frozen Throne crumble, and the Helm of Domination buckle and twist under his power.
¡°There must always be a Lich King.¡± The spirit within the helmet reached out to Illidan psychically.
It transmitted images of war, devastation and rampant plague. That without a guiding hand, the world would be doomed to perpetual, mindless undeath.
¡°Such a weak mindset from a lesser being. As if the spirit of some Orc warlock has any right to dictate his will upon the realm of Azeroth.¡± Illidan dismissed.
He then continued with his spell, and reached a crescendo in the ritual.
¡®Break for me!¡¯ Illidan thought to himself as he strained his body to the limit by casting such a monumental spell.
The Helm of Domination shrieked, and finally imploded in on itself with an incredible explosion.
Most of Ice Crown broke apart, and melted as a result of the epic spell. As a result, water flooded outward in a great stream.
Illidan took a knee, and was panting greatly from the exertion.
He had succeeded!
¡°Brother! What have you done!¡± The stern shout of a familiar voice broke him out of his fugue.
Standing on a broken building, Malfurion Stormrage, first of the druids, and co-leader of the Night Elves looked down at Illidan in a fury.
The corpses of many a Naga littered the ground, and Vashj was nowhere to be seen.
Standing beside him, his jailer, Maiev Shadowsong, and the woman he had once loved, Tyrande Whisperwind gave him nothing but scorn.
¡°I did what was necessary. With the death of the Lich King, the Undead will be disorganized, and easily dealt with. I have saved this world again, no thanks to you.¡± Illidan bitterly intoned.
At the same time, he subtly began to prepare himself a portal for escape, as completing the ritual had been incredibly draining.
¡°Necessary? Necessary! You have torn a hole in the realm of Northrend! The very foundations of Azeroth were shaken! Who knows what untold horrors have been awakened, or even freed from their prisons! Have you only regard for the temporary?! Can you not see the long lasting impact of your ¡®heroics?¡¯¡± Malfurion harshly rebuked.
¡°The Old Gods will be next, you can rest easy, brother. I will accomplish that which you were too afraid to do. Can¡¯t you see? You too, Tyrande, it was all to create a safe world, surely you of all people can understand.¡± Illidan entreated.
¡°I¡I cannot. The way you have gone about this is wrong. There must be some other way. I am sorry Illidan, but I cannot justify your actions.¡± Tyrande shook her head.
¡°End of the line traitor. I will enjoy visiting upon you ten times the pain my sisters suffered while pursuing you.¡± Maiev hissed.
¡°Even you, Tyrande. So be it. If I must walk alone to save this world, then that is my path.¡± Illidan clenched his hands into fists, and activated the runes on the ground.
A portal sprang up behind him at that moment.
When he was about to fall backward into it, the runes on the ground were suddenly scuffed, breaking the spell. Seconds later, his portal sputtered out of existence.
Illidan turned his head in all directions searching for the culprit.
¡°Who-!¡±
¡°Shh shh, honey, no need for any more words out of you.¡± A sultry, high-class voice whispered in his ear.
At the same time, a stiletto ripped itself across his throat, and repeatedly stabbed into his heart.
The last thing Illidan saw before his demise was a black lipsticked grin.
~~~~~~~~~~
All around Azeroth, wherever there were Undead, they had their shackles broken from the iron grip of the Lich King.
For the majority of the Undead, this meant that they instantaneously transformed into slobbering, incoherent messes bent on the pursuit of destruction and flesh.
Ghouls, zombies, abominations and gargoyles all went into a frenzy, and sought out any living being they could.
Heroes and Elites largely escaped this frenzy, as their wills were strong enough to resist such urges.
After regaining their freedom, many of these leaders of the dead pressed their own wills upon the shambling Undead, calming them down.
On Northrend, an all out war was taking place as the Undead frenzied. Trolls, Vrykul, Nerubians and many other plagued races went on an uncontrollable rampage as they scoured the continent for flesh and blood.
Chaos and anarchy reigned supreme on the northern most continent as there were more Undead stationed in Northrend than any other location.
All at once, hundreds of pockets sprang up where Heroes and Elites tried to make sense of their freedom. Some went mad, and killed themselves, others became depressed with apathy, and some took up arms.
For many, they took this as an opportunity to grab power.
A hundred warlords sprouted up all around the Plaguelands as former peasants or lesser nobility tried to realize ambitions that were only dreams when they were living. To a lesser extent, some of these warlords once more took up the tabard of Lordaeron in an effort to find some sanity in this mad world.
Amongst all these tiny sub groups within the Plaguelands, 3 major factions had emerged amongst the Undead.
One group, headed by Kel''thuzad represented the Scourge faction. Those people who had willingly signed up with the Cult of the Damned, or were enthralled by the Lich''s superior necromantic powers followed him.
The second faction consisted of Dawnbringer, and Sylvanas. For the last few months, Dawnbringer and some Darkfallen Rangers had been using the enchanted instrument supplied by Faedra to secretly free people from the Lich King''s control. Their numbers were the smallest, but they had real, thinking combatants in their ranks.
Dawnbringer''s well intentioned, genuine faith in the Light had swayed many to their cause. At the same time, Sylvanas''s cries for revenge had acted as a rallying cry for the dark emotions that so often suffused the Undead.
The last group was led by the three Dreadlord brothers: Detheroc, Balnazzar, and Varimathras.
Standing in the burned out remains of a town, the Dreadlords had gathered. Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.
¡°Why did no one warn us of this?¡± Balnazzar raged.
¡°Indeed, brother, I too wonder what games are being played behind our backs. My spies informed me of Illidan''s arrival in Dalaran, but there was no word from the Legion of their glory, from our leader Kil''jaeden.¡± Varimathras clenched one clawed hand into a fist, and spat.
¡°We are alone, brothers. We must see to our own safety now.¡± Detheroc seriously intoned.
¡°True. The sighting of the Stormrage brothers is confirmation enough of Lord Archimonde''s failure.¡± Balnazzar nodded.
¡°Then what are we to do? Our mission was to hand the Scourge over to the Legion. Perhaps we should return to the Twisting Nether.¡± Varimathras suggested.
¡°Cautious as ever, Varimathras. No, we will stay and fight. Who knows, a victory here might be just what we need to supplant Tichondrius as leader of the Nathrezim.¡± Detheroc deeply chuckled.
¡°To your good fortune, brother.¡± Balnazzar inclined his head.
¡°Then what shall be our first target? The Lich, or the Elf?¡± Varimathras questioned.
¡°Neither. I have a different foe in mind.¡± Detheroc grinned.
In the palm of his hand, the image of Garithos, Grand Marshal of the Alliance was depicted.
¡°Hrm, more bodies to add to the army, and it is a lesser foe. Let the Elf and the Lich tire one another while we await in the wings. A brilliant plan, brother.¡± Balnazzar applauded.
¡°But what of Quel''Thalas? I cannot scry upon their land, should we not be wary of their malfeasance?¡± Varimathras cautioned.
¡°A non-factor. Without their precious Sunwell, there is nothing to fear from them. Your caution is begging to stink of cowardice, Varimathras.¡± Balnazzar taunted.
¡°Prudence, brother. Prudence. I am weaker than you two, so I must use my wits to survive where others can rely upon brute force.¡± Varimathras replied in an uninterested tone.
¡°Why you-¡±
¡°Enough. This petty squabbling will get us nowhere. We march for Garithos.¡± Detheroc commanded, then ported away.
Balnazzar scoffed at Varimathras, then he too ported away.
¡°You underestimate our foes, my dear brothers.¡± Varimathras said to himself, then he too ported out to join his army.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Gathered at the fortified town of Hearthglen, the Alliance forces had rallied behind Garithos.
Tens of thousands of refugees crammed into the town, pushing it to capacity. Over 300,000 people were occupying the town, greatly exceeding the normal population of about 60,000.
When people were stacked so close to one another, tempers were sure to flare.
Within the keep, and seat of government, a heated debate was ongoing between the Heroes and other influential Elites.
A great table was set in the middle of the room, and at the head chair sat Garithos.
The man was a pale, middle aged man with a great brown mustache. Dressed in adamantium plate, he was a genuine Hero possessing substantial martial abilities.
¡°We have gathered as many people as possible, Hearthglen and the surrounding hamlets cannot take any more people! The food can only last so long!¡± One man slammed his hand on the meeting table.
¡°Nonsense, we must save every life we can! If space is an issue, we should fight, and reclaim our lands!¡± A priest loudly replied.
On and on the people argued with one another, but a consensus was never reached.
When no one could come to a decision, they eventually, reluctantly, looked to Garithos for his opinion.
¡°Perhaps our pointy eared friend has something he''d like to say? We are appreciative of the food and weapons, but is that all Quel''Thalas is to provide?¡± Garithos condescendingly spoke down to the Elven representative within the room.
Helios barely withheld any bitterness from showing on his face as the idiot monkey the Humans called a leader opened his mouth.
If he thought he disliked the elder Vandercross, then he hadn''t truly loathed someone until he had the distinct displeasure of making Garithos''s acquaintance.
However, Helios replied to the Grand Marshal with a genuine smile.
He had felt the restoration of the Sunwell some hours ago, and knew that Vandercross¡¯s promise had been true.
Any animosity or anger towards the youth had been washed away once he had his faith in Quel''Thalas restored.
His only regret was that he couldn''t have been there to bury his wife. But perhaps that was a thorn best pruned by another.
In any case, he had a buffoon to entertain.
¡°Yes, Grand Marshal, the weapons and food are gifts. However, you will be receiving reinforcements within the month, you can be rest assured. Quel''Thalas''s commitment to the people of Lordaeron is stronger than ever.¡± Helios smiled, and inclined his head.
¡°Empty platitudes, Elf, I think your people are holding out on us. Do you think we are so foolish to believe that iron weapons are the best you can supply?¡± Garithos arrogantly disdained.
Over half the room muttered their discontent along with him.
However, the other half actively booed these naysayers, and whispered criticisms of Garithos''s leadership.
Helios maintained a laid back, easy going demeanor at the accusation. He had bribed several leaders in attendance with extra food, and enchanted items. He was unafraid of the upjumped minor noble.
When he was preparing for a retort, a scout came bursting into the room.
¡°Scourge, Scourge are advancing on the walls! I thought you should know!¡± The scout huffed and puffed as he fell to his knees clearly exhausted.
Helios hurriedly pulled out his scrying orb, and saw multiple messages from the Rangers he had taken with him for this mission.
He then used the orb to scan the fields in front of Hearthglen.
As far as he could see, there were tens of thousands of Undead taking formation.
Suddenly, the renewal of the Sunwell wasn''t quite the soothing balm he thought it would be.
¡°Stand tall, men of the Alliance! We shall prevail!¡± A man violently thrust the doors to the chamber open, and declared.
¡°Ashbringer.¡± Many people muttered in awe.
The paladin entering the room had a massive buster sword strapped to his back, had thick red hair, a manly beard, and was decked out in blue mithril plate armor.
¡°I thought you were on a quest to Stratholme, to save your son, what craven behavior is this, Mograine?¡± Garithos spat.
Alexandros nodded to Helios as he entered.
The Elf raised a goblet. It was thanks to the Highlord''s warning that Mograine was here and not ambushed in a treacherous plot.
¡°The only craven is you, Garithos. Whilst you and your cronies bicker over the distribution of food and weapons, the people are suffering. I came here to gather all the true men of the Alliance, and to make for the walls.¡± Mograine crossed his arms, and looked every person present in the eyes.
His stern look and countenance had people either meet his gaze with pride and hope, or avert their eyes to the ground in shame.
¡°I am the Grand Marshal, Commander. The men will move out at my command. I will dispatch them where they are needed.¡± Garithos icily replied.
¡°I am needed on the walls, as is the Grand Marshal and leader of this fortress.¡± Mograine shook his head at Garithos in pity, then turned around to leave the meeting room.
¡°Guards, arrest Commander Mograine for dereliction of duty and deserting his post!¡± Garithos spat.
Yet none moved forward to do anything of the sort, and in fact, many of the guards began to follow in Mograine''s wake.
Some of the officers and other leaders within the hall glanced between Garithos''s rage fueled face, and Mograine''s back repeatedly, unsure what to do.
Leaving his spot, Helios went to join Mograine.
Like a flood breaking a dam, dozens more joined Helios and Mograine.
Before long, a few thousand Elite professional soldiers, and tens of thousands of inexperienced peasants had been inspired, and moved to reinforce the walls.
Helios looked out into the sea of Undead, and urgently messaged the Highlord.
Even if he had a legendary Human warrior by his side, Helios wasn''t confident that they could last more than a week.
~~~~~~~~
Creaking along on the open ocean, a fleet of derelict and damaged boats sailed onward in the misty morning fog.
The silence of the fleet was eerie as it approached the capital city of Kul Tiras, the port town of Boralus.
¡°Your Majesty, Lord Admiral, a fleet bearing Kul Tiran colors is signaling for permission to land!¡± An armored sergeant slammed on a magnificent door.
¡°It must be Daelin, returned from Kalimdor with Jaina. Grant them permission.¡± Lady Katherine Proudmoore declared.
Preparing her outfit for her family reunion, Katherine looked out the window, only to see a dagger break out of invisibility in the corner of her eye.
Thinking fast, she leaned forward, dodging the swipe of the dagger, she then drew her rapier, and decapitated her opponent in one swift motion.
Examining the corpse of her foe, she discovered he had been long dead.
This sudden assassination attempt was no coincidence! She had to mobilize the troops!
¡°Sergeant, sound the bells, we are under attack!¡± Katherine yelled as she opened the door to the hall.
However, what she saw paused her in her tracks.
The entire hallway was a charnel house, and dozens of guards lay on the ground deceased.
At the same time, she felt¡Cold. Cold like she had never felt before spread towards her as icy tendrils of frost suffused the room.
The sound of a sword being dragged along the ground resounded in her ears.
Standing across from her was a death knight clad in black. His long white hair covered his face, but Katherine could make out the tell tale sign of a mad grin between the mess.
¡°What have you done to Daelin?¡± Katherine demanded as she moved forward, and clashed blades with the man.
¡°His heart was broken by the same woman who took mine.¡± The man madly laughed.
Katherine exchanged several high speed attacks back and forth. She began to push him back, but she got a sense that he was toying with her.
Frowning to herself, she heard the sound of explosions and screams coming from outside the window.
Taking a quick peak between combat, she saw that Boralus was alight with flame, and her people were being massacred.
¡°Monster!¡± Katherine declared, and began to come at the man with an increased fury.
The enchantments on her blade unleashed arcs of mana that were so powerful, they threatened the foundations of the keep. However, each and every strike was countered again and again.
When she finally thought she was going to get through, and stabbed her sword at his neck, the hand of one of her deceased guards unexpectedly moved, and tripped her leg.
Falling to her back, she tried to get back up, but the ice that had slowly been creeping up the hallway pinned her in place.
From her position, she finally got a good look at her assailant.
It couldn''t be!
¡°Jaina loved you so much. Why, why would you do this?¡± Katherine said in confusion, a tear trailing down her cheek.
¡°You do not have the right to speak her name. Not to me.¡± The death knight coldly stabbed his rune sword deep into her heart.
Katherine tried to parry his attack, but found herself paralyzed.
Holding up her hand, she tried to touch him, to say something, anything at all. But all that came out was his name.
¡°Arthas.¡±
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
AN: Read up to chapter 167 at:
Chapter 137
In front of the Sunwell, the entire Convocation had gathered, and along with the King, and several other archmages joined hands to use the power of the Sunwell, and diverted the massive rise in water headed towards the Eastern Kingdoms.
A barrier had been erected, and slowed the progress of the rising tide so that it did not overwhelm any structures, or completely swallow any beaches.
¡°Few, it''s done.¡± Varrus wiped his forehead of any sweat.
The madman Illidan must have actually done it, he must have melted Ice Crown!
Which meant-
¡°Highlord, major news. The Undead are revolting! Over half of them have gone completely mad, and have started attacking one another! This is an unprecedented opportunity.¡± Rho''dan ran up to Varrus, and saluted, then hinted that they should go on the offense.
At the same time, Varrus''s scrying orb lit up, and he received an update from Helios informing him of the siege of Hearthglen.
Dawnbringer had also messaged him, letting him know about his own clashes against Kel''thuzad''s forces.
A brand new war was taking place in the former kingdom of Lordaeron, and it was absolute chaos.
All his plans for surgical strikes, and a massed build up had gone to the wayside with these developments.
Furthermore, most of his golems had been destroyed, and over half of the levitating buildings were inoperable.
But that project that he and Telonicus had been working on was nearing completion. With the aid of the Sunwell, perhaps they might just be able to finish it in time to meet this surprising turn of events.
Turning to the rest of the Convocation, and other present Heroes, it was clear that they had to hold a meeting, and come to a consensus.
As much as he hated to fight now, now was the time to strike whilst the Undead were in disarray. He didn''t know if the Lich King was wounded and out of commission, or actually destroyed, but what he did know is that he couldn''t afford to let such a golden opportunity go to waste.
¡°A rather convenient boon to mark the restoration of the Sunwell, no?¡± Tae''thelon haughtily spoke from the side.
¡°I concur, our people have been reborn from the ashes of despair. Now is the time to mete out justice to those who violated our sovereignty without care.¡± Kael pulled away from the Sunwell, and practically oozed confidence as he met Varrus''s gaze.
¡°...I''ll communicate closely with our allies in Gilneas and coordinate our offensive with theirs. There is much to be done before we can launch our invasion, and little time to do so.¡± Varrus said.
¡°What of the escaped Orc, Thrall? He comes from a future where one such as him became so powerful, he could fend off several Heroes at once. He will cause trouble for Quel''Thalas.¡± Lor''Themar crossed his arms, and made sure everyone understood how serious this threat was.
¡°The amount of damage one as powerful as him could cause is incalculable.¡± Telonicus shook his head in frustration as he lost himself in several formulae.
¡°Good point, Lor''Themar, I''ll speak to my mother-in-law and see if she has any input. Meanwhile, you can have your rangers keep an eye out. And you, Telonicus, can fully attune the Rune Stones to the Sunwell now, yes?¡± Varrus addressed Lor''Themar''s concerns, then turned to the brightest engineer in Quel''Thalas for input.
¡°Hmm? Yes. Everyone, give me a bit of mana. I''ll key us in now. Only the Convocation and the King are allowed direct access to the source of the Sunwell. I''ll be setting up several barriers now.¡¯ Telonicus looked up from a notepad with an excited, somewhat frayed look. He appeared as if he had spent the last 36 hours working, but was hyped up on cocaine.
Varrus didn''t like the mad look of their brightest scientist, but he supposed the guy had been overworked, and the Sunwell was the biggest dose of drugs to any Elf.
Reluctantly sticking his hand out, Varrus donated a small bit of his mana, as did the rest of the members of the Convocation, and Kael.
¡°While we do this, I suggest Nightsong be added to those who can access the Sunwell directly, and propose she fill the vacancy left behind by Thaladred.¡± Varrus spoke up.
¡°It is confirmed he is dead then? Pity, I think I shall miss deriding that meathead''s lack of decorum. Ah, but Nightsong. Now that shall be a challenging nut to crack.¡± Tae''thelon fanned himself, and looked ever so lasciviously at the General.
Varrus felt his eyebrow twitch. It was one thing for Lor''Themar to show some interest in his mother-which something barely acceptable to begin with-but to even begin to think that this slimy guy had an interest in her?
Why, Varrus never wanted to punch someone else so badly before!
What made Tae''thelon think he was good enough for his mother?!
¡°Yes, General Nightsong would make for a commendable addition to our austere company.¡± Lor''Themar nodded along.
¡®Oi, Lor''Themar, you''re not slick.¡¯ Varrus thought to himself.
¡°Whilst I am uncomfortable with the mother of the First Seat sitting on this council, it cannot be denied, General Nightsong is deserving of it.¡± Kael reluctantly grumbled.
¡°General Nightsong is a great fit! She was my inspiration to take up a sword and shield ever since I was a little girl. I agree!¡± Lady Liadran applauded.
¡°Please, join us, milady.¡± Koren bowed towards Nightsong.
His mother, clad in her somewhat revealing adamantium armor struck quite the pose as all eyes were on her.
An invisible aura of command, and serenity surrounded her. When Varrus saw her calmly & nonchalantly accept the praises of the most powerful Elves in all of Quel''Thalas, he knew that she was special.
Nightsong was an absolute legend amongst the High Elves, and had inspired entire generations to become Arcane Warriors or paladins.
From his own POV, he had seen her go toe to toe with the demigod, Nozdormu, only losing the edge once the Aspect ate its past self and became that much stronger.
In short, she was the sole demigod level character amongst them, and would probably have a good shot at becoming Queen if she desired.
¡°If it is the desire of the people, then I shall continue to serve. Thank you, Varrus, everyone, for believing in me.¡± Nightsong¡¯s smile was so charming, it could melt glaciers.
If Varrus wasn''t a married man, and the other obvious reason, even he might find himself enchanted by this poised, mature woman.
Nightsong was like that really hot mom that you saw at your friend''s house as a kid. She was kind, pretty, and confident in herself.
Glancing at everyone else, then turning to Nightsong, Varrus smiled. The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.
¡°Welcome to the Convocation, mother. I''m pleased you could join us.¡± Varrus smiled.
¡°Good. Now then, mother, if you would, could you help with the land invasion through the Elf Gate, I was thinking we should¡¡± Varrus conjured up some furniture, pulled out a map, and started discussing the details of the Elven offensive with Nightsong, and the other leaders.
The invasion of Lordaeron was soon to be underway!
~~~~~~~~~~~
Meanwhile, a pair of friends were watching the proceedings from a few feet away.
¡°Aye, now that''s a real warrior. I wouldn''t mind going a few rounds with her.¡± Jan''alai elbowed Syra in the side.
¡°Yes.¡± Syra tersely replied.
¡°Oh don''t be jealous, what do you say you and me team up in this next offensive? Have a girls night out! Yeah, there''s nothing like crushing a few skulls between your thighs!¡± Jan''alai flexed her biceps and squatted, showing off extremely well toned arms and calves.
¡°I shouldn''t¡the last few times I left his side, he almost died.¡± Syra gazed longingly at Varrus''s back.
¡°Pshah, he''s going to enchant himself some new gear. Everyone knows he uses the souls of his enemies at this point. Look at him practically vibrating in place! He can barely concentrate on the meeting, heck, I bet that''s all he can think about!¡± Jan''alai guffawed, and slapped Syra on the shoulder.
¡°What are you saying?¡± Syra narrowed her eyes dangerously.
¡°Oh don''t get your panties in a twist, Goldilocks gets lost in his books too if I don''t keep him busy with a good squeeze. All I''m saying is we haven''t had a girls night out in a while.¡± Jan''alai shrugged her shoulders and tried to look nonchalant about it all.
Syra kept quiet as she maintained her pose, her eyes never left Varrus.
He was so cute with how he was fidgeting in place, pretending to be the big boy at the table. Acting like he knew what he was talking about. Ah! It was so adorable, and everyone else had to listen to him.
After all, for all his bluster, he was the one to restore the Sunwell! To land the final blow on the Dragon of Time.
Oh she just wanted to scoop him up, and dominate him right here and now, to assert dominance on all those hussies she knew were watching from a distance.
She could hear them beginning to party and sing his praises on the horizon. It filled her heart with pride, yet she wanted to teach them a lesson.
That no one would ever have her man.
¡°Now that''s the kind of murderous spirit I''m talking about! But really, we should go out together, I''ve been talking to Nightsong lately, and I''ve convinced her to spend time with us~¡± Jan''alai bragged with a wide grin.
¡°Nightsong?...what did you tell her?¡± Syra broke her focus, and sharply turned to the green Forest Troll she called friend.
¡°Oi, if you look at a girl like that, she might think you''re interested.¡± Jan''alai said, licking her lips.
Syra woodenly looked at Jan''alai.
¡°Ah. Ha. Well, let''s just say I talked you up as the strongest bestest warrior ever! She was very impressed. After our duel, she rated me very highly.¡± Jan''alai rubbed her nose in pride.
¡°You dueled her, and are only telling me now?¡± Syra frowned.
¡°Hey, you were oh so busy pretending to be a Human, a girl''s got to unwind somehow.¡± Jan''alai looked toward Nightsong appreciatively.
¡°Tch.¡± Syra pouted, and turned away from Jan''alai.
¡°Is that a yes I hear?¡± Jan''alai clasped her hands, took a step closer behind Syra''s back, and said in a teasing tone.
¡°Fine. I''ll go on your stupid girls date or whatever.¡± Syra crossed her arms.
¡°Awesome!¡± Jan''alai fist pumped.
~~~~~~~~
Back at the meeting in front of the Sunwell, things were wrapping up.
¡°Okay, it''s agreed, in 3 days from now, we''ll launch our invasion.¡± Varrus clapped his hands together, and nodded at everyone present.
¡°Hmm, agreed. We must attune ourselves to the Sunwell, and prepare our most devastating magics. The uneducated necromancers shall rue the day they chose such an inferior arte to study.¡± Tae''thelon scoffed, then departed to meditate at another spot around the well.
The educator then began to draw upon the massive battery that was the Sunwell, and started to repair, and in some cases, enhance his war golem.
¡°He''s right. I''ll see you all in 3 days. Meeting dismissed.¡± Kael said, then he too scurried off, and began to pull out tome after tome, and entered a studying frenzy.
Even the less magically inclined Koren went to the side, and began to practice the new transformative state that all High Elves could unleash.
¡°I shall add the finishing touches to our project, Highlord. As a reminder, your presence shall be needed before we launch this assault.¡± Telonicus said whilst writing things on a notepad. He then teleported away without saying another word.
Varrus looked around to see if anyone needed him, but he saw that everyone was occupied.
All the girls: Nightsong, Liadran, Jan''alai, and Syra had mysteriously gravitated to one another, and were gossiping about something, but Varrus didn''t care as he was about to enchant his gear!
His Soul Cloak had accumulated 4 Grand Soul Gems, and he had 40 more Greater Soul Gems thanks to the generous donations of the Alliance ¡®Heroes of Azeroth.¡¯
¡®If only Syra and the Illidari hadn''t been so efficient at killing the Horde adventurers.¡¯ Varrus tutted.
¡°Oh well, time to become a pseudo-legendary.¡± Varrus rubbed his hands together, and eagerly got to work enchanting a new robe, pair of rings, amulet, and boots.
Utilizing the 300% buff to all magic within a few miles radius of the Sunwell, Varrus just about tripled his current spell power, and the amount of protection the shield enchant provided.
Examining his new look, Varrus felt that if he were in an anime, this would be his new season outfit.
While he didn''t have a full set enchanted, as he was missing leggings, a hat, bracers and gloves, he felt like he was at the very low-end of a demigod''s power.
He then got to work on the Greater Soul Gems, and took out some mythril he had in his inventory to make weapons and armor.
Crafting 10 full sets of plate armor with weapons to match, he used up his Greater Soul Gems, to buff them in strength, agility, and protection. and
Looking at the sleek gear with pride, Varrus ran his hand over a piece of armor lovingly.
Thanks to the boost, each set would make a highly skilled Elite capable of clashing with an average Hero, like Koren or Thaladred. It was simply terrifying what good gear could do in a world of magic. And what a difference maker it was.
The Undead would be massively out numbering them for the coming conflict. Gear like this would prove pivotal in the coming days.
Before they set out, he would have to find the time to push the Kobolds, and produce as many materials as they could.
If he could fit everyone with at least glass armor, and enchant it with 300% boosted materials that were about as strong as a Common Soul Gem, then their casualties would be significantly less.
Nodding his head with a smile on his face, Varrus turned to his ever faithful guard, who was waiting nearby.
¡°Rho''dan, hand these out to your brothers in the Crossguard, it is time that instead of being the equivalent of a Hero as a unit, they each have the strength of a Hero individually. Furthermore, recruit 6 new members, men or women you trust into a subgroup of the Crossguard, and distribute this gear to them.¡± Varrus ordered.
Chuckling to himself, he was about to go out to sea, and test his newfound power out, when Rho''dan''s reply stilled him in his tracks.
¡°It will be done, Highlord. However, I am receiving reports that we have foreign guests at the World Tree.¡±
¡°Guests???...are they the Night Elves you had reported on earlier?¡±
¡°Aye, and they are in the company of your mother-in-law.¡± Rho''dan stressed.
¡°Then we shall head toward Tha''salah immediately. I had wondered why she missed the renewal of the Sunwell, it seems that witch had ulterior motives all along.¡± Varrus narrowed his eyes.
¡°Shall I take the Crossguard with us?¡± Rho''dan suggested.
¡°No, I think we shall be fine, and let my wife have her girl time, and the King his studies. It will be just us two.¡± Varrus whispered under a shroud of muffle.
¡°Very well, Highlord. This way to the Rune Stone, we can take the portal to Tha''salah.¡± Rho''dan took the lead, and motioned for Varrus to follow.
Before he followed Rho''dan, Varrus cast Milestone. Which was a Master tier Alteration spell that allowed him to have up to 5 teleportation nodes anywhere in the world, and teleport between them freely.
He set one up at the Sunwell so that even if he were mid combat, he could return here to this font of nearly unlimited mana at any time. He also did so as a means of insurance, in the event that he had to return and defend it.
¡°Alright, Rho''dan, let''s go.¡± Varrus nodded at the large red headed man.
He never thought he would have a conversation with Faedra and Malfurion at the same time, but recent events were full of surprises.
Taking a deep breath to compose himself before an important meeting with his distant kin, Varrus stepped into the portal full of cautious optimism.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
AN: Read up to chapter 168 at:
Chapter 138
Emerging from a portal alongside Rho''dan, Varrus exited to see a group of Night Elves all standing around the Undead World Tree, Tha''salah.
A little more than a hundred of his purple skinned kin were standing guard around 3 of the most important Heroes to come from their race.
Malfurion was busy in a meditative posture, probably communing with the tree or something.
Tyrande was idling on top of her giant white tiger mount, and Maiev was conversing with Faedra.
He even saw that the Darkfallen druid, Prince Valanar was present. In fact, he was looking sort of healthy? Not quite the grey skinned look of a Darkfallen, but something else? If he had to describe him, Valanar looked incredibly pale, like milk. If anything, his appearance was what he imagined a Snow Elf would look like.
Varrus turned to Rho''dan in confusion.
¡°It is the Sunwell, Highlord. Ever since it has reignited, the Darkfallen have undergone a metamorphosis.¡± Rho''dan supplied.
Varrus blinked his eyes, and thought that was a nice upgrade. In the lore, there was a type of Undead called Light Forged Undead, and they had less drawbacks than the typical zombie, as the Light somehow empowered them without turning them into ash.
It seemed that the various elements of the Sunwell interacted with the Darkfallen differently, and created this new type of Undead creature.
Whatever it was, it was something to investigate at a later date. For now, he had to suss out these Elves from across the sea.
¡°Bal¡¯a dash, malanore. I am Varrus Vandercross, what brings you to Quel''Thalas?¡± Varrus greeted.
The guards all pointed their weapons at him as soon as Varrus took a step forward.
¡°Stand down, sisters. Sinus a''morane, I am Tyrande Whisperwind, my husband is a druid, and he sensed that the land here was free of corruption, yet this tree remained in a state of Undeath, and came to investigate such an oddity. It is his hope that we can learn how it was done, so that we may purify our own corrupted groves.¡±
¡°Hmm. Well it is a surprise to see our long lost kin after our exile. I am aware of the sacrifices you have made, and congratulate you on your victory over the Legion.¡± Varrus said with a bit of hidden heat, to let her know he wasn''t pleased with this ¡®unannounced¡¯ visit, but was also praising her people, so that he didn''t come off as entirely antagonistic.
¡°Yes, I apologize if we entered your land without any prior warning, but your mother-in-law, Faedra assured us that all would be taken care of.¡± Tyrande softly rebuked in a diplomatic tone. ¡°I thank you for your well wishes. It seems that we are not the only ones to be undergoing a trial at this time?¡± Tyrande gently hit back.
¡°Yes, we are about to mount an assault upon the Undead within 3 days. Perhaps you could join us? Then you would see first hand how, exactly, our lands were cured of their taint.¡± Varrus replied, asking both for the high end fire power of the Night Elves, as well as subtly offering them what they claimed to desire.
While Varrus didn''t know their true motives-you never could with a druid-he was willing to bet that they were interested. Because many, many places were corrupted in Kalimdor, and they would most certainly want them uncorrupted.
Varrus didn''t necessarily plan to drag the Night Elves into the fold, what with their extreme anti-Arcane magic policy, but it didn''t hurt to make some positive inroads.
If he could heal their land with a type of magic different from Life, he may even be able to change their minds.
¡°That is¡an interesting offer, young Vandercross. One I am uncertain if we are prepared to engage in. We are a small expedition, and every day we are away from home, the more I worry something needing my attention would come up. I must consult with my husband, and then we shall come to a decision.¡± Tyrande slowly, and carefully replied.
Varrus understood wanting to go home, and the need to safeguard your land, but the claim of being a small expedition didn''t really hold any water when Malfurion was demigod tier, Tyrande had the potential to transform into a demigod with her Night Warrior, Elune''s wrath form. And Maiev was a high tier Hero on par with the likes of Lor''Themar.
They may be lacking in numbers, but he guaranteed every single one of the Night Elves that came along for this transcontinental journey were Elites.
This group could quite literally challenge the sovereignty of a nation, such was the power of a demigod.
¡°Understandable. Then while we wait for him to break out of his meditation, may I ask, what brings you to the Eastern Kingdoms?¡± Varrus asked, even though he already knew the answer.
¡°Apologies, Varrus, I''m not quite at liberty to disclose our plans to outsiders.¡± Tyrande apologetically bowed.
¡°Nonsense, priestess, he has a right to know, and would learn from Faedra anyway.¡± Maiev broke away from her conversation, and harshly rebuked Tyrande.
¡°Maiev, this is neither the time nor place for-¡±
¡°A traitor. We were hunting a traitor who was about to slip away. Faedra led us to him, and when weaker wills failed.¡± Maiev paused to glare at Tyrande. ¡°Your mother-in-law prevailed. I only wish Illidan saw it coming.¡± Maiev spat to the side, venom coloring her voice.
Varrus arched an eyebrow. Illidan was dead?! By Faedra''s hand no less?!?!?!
It would seem her stealth skills were even more terrifying than he had first thought. If even the bullshit Skyrim abilities couldn''t detect her, then he supposed the literally blind Illidan who relied on Mana Sight to navigate the world didn''t stand much of a chance.
But still, this was an incredible feat. To assassinate Illidan Stormrage was not easy. She didn''t seem to be much of a front line fighter, but her stealth abilities were top class.
¡°Surprised, dear? I''m certain you intended to mn, interrogate me after the events that transpired recently. But as you''ve noticed by now, the Undead are rather restless thanks to you know who.¡± Faedra smirked with an air of utter superiority, and winked at him.
If Varrus was reading between the lines, it would seem she was aware of Illidan''s plan, and had waited until it had just completed before she took his life.
By that logic, and the fact she had been with the Night Elves all along, she must have been leading them astray until it was the most optimal time to attack.
Now, not only were the Undead going into a frenzy, but the Night Elves were slightly indebted to her!
Varrus stared woodenly at his mother-in-law. She was a dangerous woman, one whose motives remained unclear. But to date, every action of hers had seemingly benefited him. This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
Truthfully, the Lich King and Illidan were major thorns in his side. Her actions indirectly, and directly saw to both of their demise.
He didn''t know if he should bow to her, or lock her up in a cage to be questioned.
So he settled for a firm nod of respect, and a dissatisfied scowl.
¡°Ohh, no need to look so glum. A little bottle informed me that she might just be making a breakthrough soon. I can''t wait to be a grandmother.¡± Faedra''s grin widened, and she inclined her head towards him.
¡®Starbottle might finally be nearing completion of a fertility potion?!¡¯ Varrus excitedly-and fearfully-thought to himself.
At long last, he would be able to fulfill his wife''s dream, and within a generation, the High Elves would be able to repopulate! On one hand, that was awesome! On the other hand, fathering 12 children kind of frightened him. Being a father was scary and awesome. He didn¡¯t know if he was ready to raise kids during the tumultuous times of war to come.
¡®No wait. Faedra has even infiltrated my House?¡¯ Varrus dropped the excitement, and glared at her.
¡°Don''t shoot the messenger, she told me herself. We are long time friends going way back.
Varrus felt his blood boil as he conversed with this silver tongued she-devil.
She thought she was so smart, yet had failed to prevent the sacking of Silvermoon.
Yet because of her efforts, the Kobolds had readily joined up, he suspected she led the Scourge to resurrect Nightsong, Blood Queen Lana''thel''s plans to Deatholme were revealed, and while he was in Gilneas, he used her contacts to clean up the dissidents and nobles opposed to Tess''s coronation. Furthermore, Dawnbringer''s movement to start an Undead rebellion was only possible thanks to her minions, and the enchanted items that broke the Undead away from the Lich King''s control.
Her hands were dipped in many failures, but also many victories.
How he hated how useful she was.
¡°We are done here. Tyrande, my love, let us return home.¡± A deep, sonorous voice called out from the base of the tree.
Emerging from a pile of dead foliage, the 7 foot tall, muscular druid practically towered over Varrus as he approached his wife.
¡°The Elves of Quel''Thalas have invited us to do battle with them. They claim to show us how they purified this land.¡± Tyrande replied.
¡°There is nothing for us here. The roots have told me much. I must return to Darnassus, and nurture Teldrassil. Illidan''s damage to the world is far reaching. We can do the most good back at home.¡± Malfurion patiently explained.
¡°As you say, my love. Warriors, rangers, and druids, we ride for the coast!¡± Tyrande commanded.
¡°We can''t just leave! The Undead are the Legions minions! Our enemy is here, crushing them will prevent another invasion!¡± Maiev stood in front of the troop, and held out her hand, halting them in their tracks.
Many of the Night Elves shifted in place uncomfortably, clearly conflicted between the two Heroes and their orders.
¡°Out of the way, Maiev. You failed at imprisoning my brother, and have harried me at every turn. I will not have you delay my return.¡± Malfurion coldly intoned as he stared down the warden.
¡°But Shan¡¯do-¡± Maiev entreated, only to be interrupted.
¡°We will do our best for Azeroth back on Kalimdor. But you are right about something. This tree is a blight upon the world, and must be destroyed.¡± Malfurion turned towards Tha''salah, and a green energy radiating powerful Nature energies coalesced in his fist.
¡°No, don''t! Shan''do, I beg of you, don''t do this!¡± Valanar cried out and tried to run between Malfurion and the Undead World Tree, yet the Night Elf guards held him back.
¡°Highlord, don''t let them do this, the transformation that the Darkfallen underwent is replicable for the corrupted trees of Quel''Thalas, please, stop him!¡± Valanar cried out from the side.
Varrus briefly pondered Valanar''s claim. If it were true, then it would be worth saving this corrupted tree. Because when it was alive, it acted as a balancing influence, and was a seal against the creatures of the Void. Doubtlessly, it would prove useful against invasions from Oblivion as well.
Malfurion, uncaring to Valanar''s plea, unleashed a green orb full of titanic, overwhelming power at Tha''salah.
Teleporting with a short ranged Blink, Varrus interposed himself between the attack, and blocked it with a ward.
Green light cascaded off his ward, and Varrus felt his arm shake from the force behind the impact.
He almost felt the ward break, but by using two hands, he forced Malfurion''s spell to dissipate on his magical shield.
¡°Have the Elves from afar fallen so low as to attack another nation so openly? Are you so ungrateful that you would destroy our World Tree?¡± Varrus angrily crossed his arms, and sharply antagonized.
¡°Stand aside young man, this cleansing must be done to guarantee the safety of the land.¡± Malfurion charged up another attack, this time raising his staff high.
¡°Perhaps there is a good reason that they are defending this, my love. Violence need not be our only avenue.¡± Tyrande cautioned.
¡°I agree, yet during my attack just now, I sensed something off about this youth. Almost as if he has the scent of time about him I had associated with Nozdormu. Yet such a thing should be impossible. Something is wrong here, Tyrande, and I intend to find out what!¡± Malfurion lovingly said to his wife, then pointed his staff at Varrus.
¡°What relation do you, Varrus Vandercross have with the Aspect of Time, Nozdormu. You are not one of his children, or his agents, so don''t bother lying to me!¡± Malfurion said with a heavy weight of authority, then slammed his staff onto the ground.
A wave of nearly invisible Nature energy spread out from his position, and enveloped the grove.
Varrus felt as if he were compelled to speak, yet thanks to his perks, magic resistance, and superior spell power, was able to shrug it off with some difficulty.
However, not everyone present was immune to this sinister technique.
¡°Nmmm-auuurrgh. He slew Nozdormu earlier today, and absorbed his soul.¡± Rho''dan fell to one knee, bit off his own tongue, and tried to wrench his mouth shut, yet in the end, was compelled to speak.
¡°I see. The truth has been revealed. I knew this land was corrupted. That you users of the Arcane were beyond redemption. Now I learn you were directly involved in the slaughter of one of Azeroth''s mightiest guardians?! For the world to heal, you must perish!¡± Malfurion slammed his staff down, and erupted with a magnificent amount of power no less than Nozdormu had earlier.
Varrus wanted to feel panic at this swiftly deteriorating situation, but instead, all he felt was a frothing, maddening anger.
¡°How dare you.¡± Varrus quietly, coldly seethed.
¡°How dare you come to my land, and attack my people. Do you even know that Nozdormu was attempting to kill my people''s hope? As someone who experienced the Sundering, I thought you would be sympathetic to the plight of your kin, but I see you for the foolish old man that you are. More concerned with the Emerald Dream than reality, your people suffered while you slept for ten thousand years.
Your so-called wisdom sacrificed the most powerful World Tree on the planet, and entire forest of ancient trees, and the lives of countless wisps. You could have used the Well of Eternity, and defeated Archimonde with its powers, transformed the World Tree to do battle against the Demon!
But instead, you condemned your people, and removed their immortality.
How dare you judge my actions, Malfurion Stormrage!!!¡±
Varrus activated his various Illusion buffs, and became a mass of power as Commanding Presence & Imposing Presence swept throughout the landscape.
The Elite Night Elves were crushed under the metaphysical weight, and each and every one of them were forced to their knees.
Malfurion wore a look of stalwart composure as his aura rose to match Varrus¡¯s.
¡°The incoherent ramblings of a child. Power has gone to your head, much like what happened to my insane brother. It is the duty of the old to educate the youth. Prepare yourself.¡± Malfurion slowly replied. A hint of sadness, and duty colored his voice. As if what he was about to do pained him, but must be done.
The act of being ¡®holier than thou¡¯ drove Varrus into a frenzy. He never wanted Malfurion dead before, but his unprovoked antagonism would not go unpunished.
He could withstand badmouthing, but when someone tried to cast a spell on him? When they forced his longtime companion, and the only person he trusted 100% without a shadow of a doubt to speak? Well then, the gloves came off, and you''d better be ready to box!
Varrus stood fast, and matched Malfurion''s gaze of ¡®sad dury¡¯ with unrivaled ferocity.
He had intended to test his new enchantments over the ocean, but now it seemed he had a live target.
The battle between distant kin was about to begin!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
AN: Read upto chapter 169 at:
Chapter 139
¡°Tiid. Klo. Ul!¡±
(Time. Sand. Eternity!)
Varrus opened up the conflict by using one of, if not the most useful Dragon Shouts from Skyrim.
Even so, that only gave himself the slightest of speed advantages as Malfurion actively began to buff himself as well.
Unlike most other opponents Varrus had faced, the ancient Night Elf was a master of Nature magic, and was well versed in supporting magic as well as offensive magic.
With this literal second or two speed advantage, Varrus cast Forbidden Sun on top of Malfurion''s head.
A great globe of fire spawned in the sky, and roared with the heat of a nuclear bomb as it headed towards the druid''s position.
The overwhelming boost to spell power and effect on his spells almost left Varrus in awe.
But he couldn''t allow himself to let up, as this opening gambit was nothing more than a distraction!
As Malfurion busied himself with countering the giant ball of fire, Varrus moved onto the next step.
Instead of casting more Skyrim spells, like Apocalypse, Varrus went with the magic he learnt from old man Vandercross''s memory crystal.
He was well aware that he wouldn''t be able to end this fight with a cheeky, overwhelming burst of power. So instead, he decided to play for the long con, and drain this fucker of his mana. To do that, he needed to control the battlefield in such a way, that he could get close, and either assassinate him, or utilize some of his activatables. This was an ideal method of attack, because the druid would be unable to cast any spells due to mana deficiency, and Varrus''s various perks acting upon him.
Or ideally, just use Magicka Void, which swapped health percentages with mana percentages. But it was more than likely the ancient druid wore protective gear, so it would be unwise to solely rely upon this spell, hence the multi pronged attack!
Plan set in motion, Varrus dumped tons of leftover Mana Stones he had been holding in reserve in the event that the Sunwell did not work out. Now that he no longer had to feed his peoples mana addiction, every Mana Stone he generated could be used expressly for purposes of war!
Combining the stones he had dropped to the ground, a Mana Stone Forest came into existence.
Countless crystalline branches, and trees began to take shape. With his improved control of the spell after hours of practice, he added his own ideas to the spell. For example, making square buildings, pyramids, and even a few spheres the size of boulders.
The spell took a mighty strain on his willpower, stretching his imagination to the limit, but the enhanced spell power of his enchanted gear allowed him to push through, and achieve his vision.
Within the grove of Tha''salah, a couple blocks of a mega city, alongside a thick jungle had grown out of the ground, and shone brightly in the late afternoon sun.
All mana within the area began to actively be sucked into this miniature city, and Varrus hid both himself, and Rho''dan within one of the buildings.
From inside, he could view any point that his spell made contact with the outside world, as if he were viewing a monitor.
Malfurion had not remained idle during Varrus''s grand spell, and cast one of his own.
Seconds after Varrus''s city came into shape, a massive forest of real trees, flowers, and other plants began to sprout up on its flank.
It too began to sup on the ambient mana in the air, and both crystalline city and natural forest began to compete for that precious resource!
Tree roots burrowed themselves underneath the crystalline city, piercing holes all around, no doubt searching for Varrus. At the same time, these branches would flower, and released pollen in the air that spread throughout the rooms of the city like a disease cloud.
Blink teleporting to a rooftop of a mini sky-scraper, Varrus had a row of 20 thick slabs in front of him.
He placed down an acceleration rune in front of them, and then tipped them over with telekinesis.
Once the mana rich slabs were propelled forward, they fell deep within Malfurion''s forest, and each one exploded like a tomahawk missile, forcing the earth to shake like a modern battlefield!
About 15% of the forest had been obliterated by this salvo alone.
At the same time, a tenth of the crystalline city had been overwhelmed by overgrowth, and the mana stolen from his city was used to regrow that section of forest that was lost!
Varrus calmly analyzed this rapid turn of events, and while it would be a lie to say he wasn''t nettled, he had an idea on how to counter this.
Dropping 20 more slabs on the rooftop, Varrus cast the Restoration spell, Horrid Wilting on them, injecting the Mana Stones with Death magic, the counter to Nature!
Horrid Wilting: Desiccates nonmechanical targets, inflicting 12 disease damage per second for 10 seconds.
The pristine, white Mana Stones suddenly took on a dark, necrotic black color, and emitted a sinister aura.
He was likely to irradiate his own land with this maneuver, but in Varrus''s mind, it was worth it if it meant getting a one up on another demigod tier opponent.
Besides, if he could power wash away the plagued land, then surely he could do the same with his own spells?
Smirking to himself, Varrus shot out 20 more ¡®missiles¡¯ with the help of the acceleration runes.
This time when the Mana Stones collided with the forest, a great cloud of plague and Undeath spread amongst the trees.
A great big bald patch suffused the land, and within it, Varrus could see the druid for the first time since they had begun slinging spells at one another.
The druid eyed Varrus with a calculating, cold look, but Varrus didn''t have time to care about posturing, and readied another set of ¡®Mana Stone Missiles.¡¯
Launching them at the druid, and at various other spots in the forest, Varrus was surprised that Malfurion had opted to just stand still.
¡®What is that old man''s game plan?¡¯ Varrus narrowed his eyes at the seemingly illogical decision. The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
As the diseased Mana Stone Missiles drew near, Malfurion polymorphed into a Faerie Dragon, a tiny blue flying lizard that originated from the Emerald Dream.
All around him, a magic shield spread out, and he began to absorb all of the mana from the explosions!
While it was actually a good play on his part, Varrus thought him insane, as they were still tainted with Death energy.
A moment later, Varrus was proven wrong with his assessment when all the mana from those missiles formed a putrid colored ring around Malfurion, and never actually entered his system.
Varrus could see where this was going, and swiftly Blinked back to the bunker that Rho''dan was in as a beam of concentrated energy blasted part of the skyscraper into smithereens!
However, as powerful as the beam was, the skyscraper was rather large, and absorbed most of the energy shot at it before ultimately losing half of its structure.
¡®Damn.¡¯ Varrus could only squeeze his fists as the druid vexed him with this transformation.
He had hoped to drain this formidable foe from a distance, but nothing seemed to be working.
If he had Syra and Nightsong here, they could be of great use pressuring Malfurion, and leaving Varrus free to snipe at the purple Elf from a distance.
The only thing was, the portal was being suppressed by Malfurion, and the forest he had conjured was acting in such a manner that teleportation in the area from long distance was risky.
¡®Damn, I was expecting moderately friendly attitudes, and didn''t bring Syra along because she might get jealous or feud openly with her mother. But I should''ve taken her and my mother along from the start.¡¯ Varrus internally beat himself up.
Whilst he could be going up close, he wasn''t exactly comfortable fighting openly in melee range.
That left only one option.
¡°I suppose this is the part where you want me to gloriously throw my life away in the name of House Vandercross?¡± Rho''dan drily intoned.
¡°Whaat? No, what nonsense? Whatever gave you such an idea?¡± Varrus waved his hand in denial.
¡°Probably the creepy grin you flashed my way after staring at nothing for a minute straight.¡± Rho''dan deadpanned.
¡°Well. Malfurion is quite vexing, and I do need someone to distract him¡¡± Varrus scratched the back of his head, embarrassed at being caught.
¡°Say no more, just be sure to buff me before I head out, and summon some of those spirits, would you? For House Vandercross.¡± Rho''dan tiredly stood to his feet, and was all business as he began to head towards the exit.
¡°Thanks for being so understanding.¡¯ Varrus nodded in appreciation.
However, while he would be sending Rho''dan out there, he still messaged Syra and Nightsong. While it would be cool to 1v1 Malfurion, he wasn''t above ganking someone.
At the end of the day, all that mattered was victory. With any luck, he would be receiving reinforcements sometime within the next 10-30 min, as they should be able to teleport to a ¡®nearby¡¯ town, then make their way here.
Scratching his chin, Varrus moved onto the next part of his plan, and quickly perused his Conjuration spells. Due to the rules of the system, he could only have one summon per every base 200 mana.
He had recently leveled some, and his current mana was hovering at above 1,400, meaning he could have 7 permanent summons at once.
The Undead Convocation members, Starbottle and Dawnbringer took up 2 slots, so he could only have 5 out at the moment to aid Rho''dan.
Typically, he would cast Conjure Battlemage. However, he wanted some warriors to go in close, and pressure the druid. He still didn''t want to summon any daedra until he had experimented with them, because while Skyrim magic had some game mechanics, this wasn''t a game, and those daedra actively hated everyone else.
So that only left Varrus with a few options.
Finally, he settled on the Oathbound Guardian. It summoned a pale blue ghostly apparition to follow an ally, and looked much like the Nords who resided in Sovngarde. They came equipped with heavy armor, and were capable of the Fus Ro Dah Dragon Shout.
Casting the spell 5 times on Rho''dan, Varrus then began to buff them with his Illusion spells.
¡°Good luck, Rho''dan. I''ll be supporting you all the way.¡± Varrus nodded at his faithful guardian, then began to continue the war of attrition between his crystalline city, and Malfurion''s forest.
Rho''dan wordlessly slammed a helmet over his head, and began his advance.
To cover for Rho''dan''s assault, Varrus began to direct his Mana Stones to encroach upon the forest in a manner that sacrificed his resources faster than he ordinarily would have in this battle of attrition.
Crystals exploded everywhere, and trees collapsed, only for new ones to sprout out of the ground like weeds in a documentary where the camera was sped up.
As Rho''dan drew nearer, and nearer, Varrus took to the skies, and began to try his hand at various elemental magics.
Frozen Orbs scattered in the sky, and emitted vast, icy effects upon the land. Afterwards, Varrus cast Volcano three times, and spawned in the mouth of three different volcanoes in three separate spots around the forest.
Fire and brimstone rained across the land, and ash covered the skies.
So many fires and frozen wastelands came into existence, that even with his ability to absorb and redirect mana as a Faerie Dragon, Malfurion had his hands full.
In fact, Varrus was beginning to think he wouldn''t even need Rho''dan to act as a distraction.
Maybe he was being too cautious by opening up with the Crystalline City. Perhaps he should have gone all in on offense from the start!
However, this hope was short lived, as a rainstorm began to fall down from the sky, and was accompanied by an angelic hymn.
It was the signature spell that Keeper''s of the Grove could cast, Tranquility!
Wherever the rain passed, the trees would almost instantly regenerate, the volcanoes were put out, and the Frozen Orbs melted.
This incredible storm of Nature magic swept across the battlefield, and changed the momentum back into Malfurion''s grasp.
Not even the Crystal City was safe, as the Mana Stone constructs were overwhelmed by the deluge of rain, and slowly lost their cohesiveness, like a sugar cube within a glass of water.
Clenching his fist, Varrus cast Control Weather, and tried to clear the clouds. It worked for a moment, but Malfurion did not cease channeling his spell, and the thunder clouds reappeared.
Whilst ordinarily, Tranquility wasn''t an offensive spell, and primarily healed, it was being cast by the foremost druid on all of Azeroth. Who knew what effects the ancient Night Elf could weave into it?
Beginning to feel a sense of panic, Varrus repeatedly cast Twister in an effort to disperse the clouds, and he saw some success, yet it too wasn''t good enough.
Every second that transpired, his city grew weaker, and the forest encroached ever closer upon his land.
Thinking fast, there was one method that would clear this storm, but he truly did not want to have to resort to it.
It was the shout, Clear Skies.
The power of the Dragon Shouts was rather extreme, and he had a good feeling it would work. The problem was, he only had 5 free Dragon Souls available! If he learnt this ability, he would not be able to learn a new Dragon Shout for quite some time!
Plus, Clear Skies didn''t really have that much utility outside of this niche circumstance.
However¡this rain was an extremely dangerous threat, and he had to take it out. Otherwise, he would lose his position, and would have to relocate to another position if he wanted to continue the battle.
Furthermore, Rho''dan''s mission would all be for naught if he abandoned this stretch of land, and Tha''salah would likely be lost.
He had to hold.
With great regret, Varrus dumped 3 free souls into Clear Skies, then opened his mouth to shout his defiance into the skies.
¡°Lok. Vah. Koor!¡±
(Sky. Spring. Summer!)
As soon as the wave of energy struck the clouds above, the rain was forcefully dissipated, and no matter how much Malfurion channeled, the sky remained clear.
Varrus then angrily began to spam Volcano all around the forest in a spite filled rage.
The tides of momentum had shifted once again!
¡°Let''s see you counter this, old bastard.¡± Varrus muttered to himself as he brought a fiery hell to this once sacred grove.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
AN: Read up to chapter 171 at:
Chapter 140
Malfurion wished he could have remained in the Emerald Dream.
The world outside the dream was one of chaos and anarchy.
He had hoped that his brother would have reformed. That the cold reflection of 10,000 years of solitude would do him some good.
Ultimately, Illidan proved himself to be the same power hungry man he had been when the Legion first arrived on Azeroth.
Yet his passing had left a bitter wound on his heart.
If any one was going to end this cancer, it had to be him. Illidan was his responsibility.
Malfurion did not chase his erstwhile brother across the ocean, only to see his malformed kin to murder him in cold blood.
The assassination had put a sour taste in his mouth.
While he hadn''t seen Illidan in so long, that didn''t mean he had entirely abandoned his feelings for his brother.
That was one strike against the so-called Highborne.
Then he discovered they were harboring an Undead tree. A minor World Tree, no less!
Its roots were toxins to the soil, its barn a bane upon the air. It had to go.
This was the second strike.
But when the champion of the Blood Elves made himself known, Malfurion recognized the tang of time magic only Nozdormu possessed.
To so openly wear the demise of one of Azeroth''s greatest guardians. This. This was a threshold Malfurion could not sit idly by as he witnessed its crossing.
This third, and final strike had put him against this foolish youth, and all those who had a hand in Nozdormu''s demise.
Only¡
Only, Malfurion did not anticipate the grotesque city of mana hungry crystals to pollute the environment.
Or the volcanoes, twisters, and giant orbs of ice.
He had assumed the aura of time surrounding the youth would be shared amongst many hands. After all, how many individuals amongst all of Azeroth''s denizens could claim supremacy over a Dragon Aspect?
Malfurion had underestimated him.
This Varrus Vandercross-a foolhardy youth blind to the consequences of his actions-was more than net the eye.
Like an ogre that had learnt magic, it seemed he irresponsibly summoned natural disasters upon the land without a care in the world.
When Malfurion tried to heal the land with the soothing rains of Tranquility and remove the stains Vandercross had brought upon it, his ears had picked up a harsh, and brutal shout so at odds with the graceful elegance known to Elves.
The brutality contained in that shout disrupted his spell, and for a time, permanently cleared the skies.
Malfurion wanted to go back to the Emerald Dream.
And yet, the shout had awoken something in him.
Something primal.
Nature was not only healing.
While he tried to share this wisdom with the misbegotten youth, Malfurion could see that this lesson had been ignored.
As more and more volcanoes began to sprout up, and burn down his trees, the more enraged he became.
It was time to educate this youth in the ways of Nature.
Pulling out a horn from his pack, Malfurion blew a deep and sonorous tune.
HOOOOOOONG
The horn reverberated across the land.
Trees shivered, the earth shook, and a second of pregnant silence suffused the air.
Malfurion put his lips to the horn once more, and infused it with mana.
HOOOOOOOOOONG
The horn blew, this time, the earth began to quake, and it was not stopping any time soon.
HOOOOOONG
The third, and final deep bass horn rang across the land.
The shifting leaves, and shuddering trees ceased all movement, as if an incredible earthquake had never happened.
¡°Come, spirits of the land. Come to the aid of your protector. May we cleanse this land together of the taint that haunts you so.¡± Malfurion¡¯s call spread all throughout the Eastern Kingdoms.
Suddenly, ethereal blue ghosts of squirrels, deers, bears, wolves and more began to stream towards Deatholme from all across the continent.
Standing tall, Malfurion nodded his head in thanks towards the friends of the forest who chose to offer their resting souls to him in defense of the world.
¡°My thanks. Your gift shall not go unused.¡±
Glowing with a magnificent aura of green, Malfurion turned his gaze to the shorter, lesser-Elf who was flying in the air upon a floating carpet.
The blonde boy was smirking as he slinged spell after spell without a care in the world. The ecological destruction simply angered Malfurion to no end.
Slamming his staff into the ground, Malfurion launched bramble balls the size of watermelons up at the youth.
When they drew near, they would explode just before reaching him, releasing thick purple clouds of poison, as well as shooting out piercing thorns.
It was during this attack that Malfurion transformed himself into a tiny beetle no larger than a fingernail, and flew towards the pompous pest.
His speed in this form was faster than any other creature on Azeroth, and he moved so fast, it was as if he had teleported.
As he neared, Malfurion noticed that his mana was being drained at an astonishing rate, and his body was accumulating a weakness to magic.
Recognizing this sinister aura effect, Malfurion briefly communed with Nature, and realized by sacrificing the forest friends, he could temporarily free himself from this disgusting plague.
But that was a road he hoped he wouldn¡¯t have to cross, as he intended to end it all here and now!
Moving at impossibly fast speeds, Malfurion transformed into a 9ft tall, furred monster right on top of Vandercross.
¡°Feel the Wrath of Nature!¡± Malfurion howled.
Opening his maw wide, Malfurion roared.
The power of his roar triggered the spell, Umbral Embrace, and activated a one-two punch.
In one move, a hazy green energy moved all around his body, and took on the shape of a beetle''s horn at the top of his head. At the same time, the roar was a sonic attack that diffused Vandercross¡¯s shield spells, pushing the protective barriers surrounding his body to his extremities such as his arms and legs, leaving his torso only a woefully thin protective screen. This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
Carrying the momentum and speed of his beetle form, the massive bear that was Malfurion practically teleported into Vandercross''s chest!
Feeling the crunch of bones, Malfurion pressed on, and began to swipe with his claws, and bite down. Each one of his attacks was coated in rich Nature energy, and tore away at Vandercross¡¯s protective shields.
Some of his claws got through here and there and fresh welts of blood sprayed outward.
During their tumble off the flying carpet, they teleported all over the place due the spell, Blink, and a holy flame of Light burnt Malfurion, enticing incredible pain, and draining him of his stamina. Casting Rejuvenate, a green glow healed any burns caused by this constant flame, and Malfurion maintained his assault.
Even if he tried to Blink away from Malfurion, he always tried to stay in close contact, and wouldn''t allow the mage to teleport away, or free his hands for any spells.
He didn''t know how the Light spell was cast, but clearly Vandercross primarily needed his hands to work magic. This, he would not allow!
Tearing away at the green armor, Malfurion felt it rip and tear at an increased rate. His claws were now less than a quarter of an inch from piercing the shield, and then victory would be his!
During the few seconds of their rapid descent, Malfurion was sure of his victory, yet he was shocked when an illusion of himself began to rip and tear into his backside.
Green Nature energy coated the illusions claws, and it began to reach for his throat!
¡®Hmph!¡¯
Malfurion noticed that for all its power, the illusion could be knocked over with a small attack. All he needed to do was rely upon the Thorns spell that protected his body, and the illusion would end itself.
Never once leaving Vandercross out of his sight, Malfurion was determined to end this menace once and for all!
The distinct pop of his shields sounded in Malfurion''s ears, and his Nature empowered claw reached down to tear at his throat.
However, during that half a second of distraction when the illusion had struck, Vandercross said something.
Three words to be exact.
¡°Feim. Zii. Grom!¡±
(Fade. Spirit. Bind!)
The young Elf, who was on the verge of defeat turned ethereal blue, and passed right through Malfurion''s chest and body as he kept falling to the ground.
Recognizing what was happening, Malfurion was about to transform into his beetle form, when he recognized a shift in time had occurred.
For a brief, singular second, it was as if his world had stopped for 10 seconds, and he could not move. The transformation into a beetle, which should have been instant, stretched beyond reality!
From his perspective, the youth suddenly moved.
By the time he had blinked his eyes once, a dozen deep sword wounds had penetrated his flank. Each strike was surgical and methodical, as if Vandercross knew where each gap in his armor-like hide was, and he struck an organ with each blow.
Finally, he went in for the final hit, and sliced down upon Malfurion''s head, decapitating him.
The force and speed with which they had traveled had been great, and when Malfurion''s body hit the ground, it made a massive impact crater. The resulting explosion shattered half the forest, and half the crystalline city. The kinetic energy that was traded between bitter foes caused yet another tumultuous earthquake. It was one so vicious, it could be felt a sea away on Kalimdor!
As his head flew through the sky, time came back to normal, and Malfurion felt shame and rage at what had just transpired.
He felt a soul sucking force try to pull his essence into a black cloak of foul magic surrounding Vandercross.
To think this youth was so perverted, so arrogant!
Malfurion would see to it that he learnt the meaning of the word ¡®humility.¡¯ That he would learn how Malfurion became known as the Stormrage!
¡°REINCARNATION!!!¡±
Malfurion''s vast mana pool erupted with an unfolded power, and his body, which was being cut to pieces, suddenly disappeared, then resembled, whole and hearty a dozen feet away.
Sacrificing all the spirits of the forest for the entire continent of the Eastern Kingdoms, Malfurion came back to life, and was brimming with energy.
With a wave of his hand, and a mutter from his lips, the anti-magic aura Vandercross was emitting was suppressed.
With the curl of his finger, and the glow of his eyes, the force of the earthquake from just now was redirected, and a super tsunami the likes the world had not witnessed since the age of the Sundering manifested on the horizon.
Twirling his staff, he tried to call upon a typhoon, but grunted in disappointment when not even a drizzle could be mustered.
The youth seemed to mock him with an arrogant smile for his seeming failed attempt, yet Malfurion replied with a grim grin of satisfaction, as instead of the overwhelming might of a typhoon, the focus of the sun came down with a vengeance.
A beam of pure solar energy was directed at Vandercross, like a beam of light focused through glass.
Wherever the beam-thick as a large bed-passed, it erased the land in a cataclysmic cleansing purity of fire and flame.
Malfurion slammed his staff on the earth, and pulled.
A massive, true volcano began to gush up to the surface, and lava erupted into the sky. Ash moved as if it had a life of its own as it swept towards Vandercross in an effort to suffocate him. Molten rocks erupted indiscriminately, and exploded mid air, releasing random jets of lava wherever the diminutive Elf may wish to Blink to.
The earth groaned, and Malfurion wept for what he was doing to his beloved Azeroth, but when it came to slaying Evil, there could be no half measures.
The boy had accused him of negligence, of dereliction of duty when it came to combating the Legion.
The boy didn''t know the meaning of duty.
Holding onto his staff, Malfurion watched on as the youth began to counter his magics with the great translucent crystals.
¡°Have you gone mad, druid? Do you intend to sink the very land you swore to protect?!¡± Vandercross yelled in disbelief as he telekinetically picked up one of the magma boulders, and slammed it down upon Malfurion''s position.
He then Blinked away from the solar beams, and started to blast Malfurion with an extreme amount of lightning, fire and ice from all sides.
The explosions and radius of Vandercross¡¯s magic began to destroy the ruined city they were fighting all across, and between the two of them, the plateau and mountain they had been fighting on was slowly turning into a great canyon.
Raising his staff high, Malfurion blasted the 4-story tall magna boulder into smithereens, splattering super hot liquid to his left and right.
He then pulled once, twice, thrice! A spherical force of pure green struck the encircling elemental attacks, and ground them into nothing more than harmless motes of light.
¡°You wouldn''t understand.¡± Malfurion shook his head.
¡°Wouldn''t understand? I''m sorry to hear that Malfy, but I think it is you who does not understand. Do you, in your sleep-addled mind, think this is a game? That it is somehow the ¡®Will of Nature¡¯ when you threaten a continent, but an act of great evil when your brother destroys the Lich King at the cost of a portion of Northrend?¡± The boy mocked as he absorbed all the mana from the volcano into his Mana Stones, and began to toss these super heated exploding crystals at Malfurion with extreme prejudice.
Each and every crystal carried with it the strength and power to decimate a city block. Not only was the kinetic energy supreme, but the after shock carried with it a flow of lava that Malfurion found difficult to block.
At the same time, Vandercross was running in the sky, and had Blinked above Malfurion''s position, bringing the solar beam down on top of his head.
¡°Nature is all about balance.¡± Malfurion growled, and summoned a massive tree from the ground, blocking the sun''s wrath.
Instead of being destroyed, the tree absorbed the solar power, and grew and grew and grew until it reached the heights of the nearby deceased World Tree.
Flowers blossomed, and fruits began to spray acidic juice at Vandercross, tracking his every movement.
Vandercross countered by summoning an overwhelmingly large blizzard.
Malfurion felt his bones ache in the cold, and felt as if the snow storm was covering the entire province that they were fighting in.
¡°Funny thing about Nature.¡± Vandercross¡¯s voice came from miles away, somewhere hidden within the blinding white snow.
¡°Nature dies.¡± Vandercross whispered in Malfurion''s ears at the exact same time that his voice had shouted from within the blizzard.
Whilst Vandercross spoke, a dagger entered the back of the druid, entered his heart, and exited through his chest. The High Elf''s hand was coated in blood, and the fiery enchantments upon his blade immolated Malfurion''s innards to a fine crisp.
Malfurion Stormrage, first druid, and leader of the Kaldorei coughed blood as he fell to his knees.
Rejuvenation constantly worked against this devastating wound. Constantly healing the damage and constant burning.
Malfurion wanted to do something, anything, yet his mana was sluggish, and would not move.
Weakly raising his hands, he tried to push the dagger out, so that he may turn into a beetle, and get done distance to heal. His strength was still mighty, and he was about to cry himself free, when the armored guard who had been accompanying Vandercross approached.
The armored boots crunching on the snow, and his crimson armored form emerging from the howling blizzard was like a death knell.
No words were exchanged as the guard held onto Malfurion''s arms, and pried them off the dagger.
The blade pulsed as it was freed from his grasp, and the flames freely began to eat at his organs, and the balming healing of Rejuvenate dried up along with his pool of mana.
Closing his eyes, Malfurion resigned himself.
The boy was right.
Not even the sun or the Gods were forever.
All things died¡¡
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
AN: Reincarnation is a canonical ability Druids in WoW can do. Here, Malfy used his spirit juice to accomplish this feat, and could only do it once thanks to that. MC also used a shout at the end there to confuse the enemy. Stealth enjoyers will recognize which one it was.
Read up to chapter 172 at:
Chapter 141
(Happening concurrently with Malf vs Varrus)
Tyrande Whisperwind pressed her lips into a thin line as she witnessed her husband enter the ¡®druid''s fury.¡¯
For someone who was so calm most of the time, he had a penchant for violence that overcame even Illidan at times.
¡Illidan.
His death did not sit right with her.
While she didn''t love him like Malfurion, he was like a brother to her.
So while she was a proponent of peace, she could admit a small part of her was happy when her beloved struck out in anger.
Seated atop her longtime companion, Ash¡¯alah, Tyrande was surveying the area with a sharp eye.
As soon as Malfurion''s forest, and Vandercross¡¯s crystalline city clashed with one another, Tyrande had been playing a game of cat and mouse with the rogue, Faedra.
Upon the opening fight, Tyrande had shot down a thrown dagger with her bow & arrow, then the shorter woman had disappeared.
Currently on the far side of the forest and surrounded by her husband''s trees, and the broken remains of what was once a great city, Tyrande had deployed dozens of owl spirits around the premises.
The owls were blessed by Elune, and had exceptional eyesight. Not even she could hide from their gaze when she went invisible under the moon''s light.
At the same time, she had the Elite rangers positioned in trees. Meanwhile the druids were scouting. Some druids held onto tree roots, feeling for vibrations, others flew in the sky as birds, yet others still transformed into canines or bears to try and smell out the assassin.
A butterfly made of mana flew towards her, and Tyrande held out a hand, and let it land on her finger.
¡°Anything to report, sister?¡± Tyrande asked.
¡°Immortality is still within your grasp. Rangers throw down your weapons, druids bind your arms, and you will be spared.¡± Faedra''s cold, haughty voice resounded.
Clenching her fist, Tyrande broke the mana construct.
Looking around, she saw several of her sisters and some of the druid''s shift uncomfortably at her words
¡°Do not fall for her lies. She seeks to divide us.¡± Tyrande strongly replied in an effort to boost morale.
As soon as she said that, she heard the sound of bow strings being plucked repeatedly just over a few dozen feet away.
¡°Prowl, Ash¡¯alah!¡± Tyrande urged her snow white tiger mount, and was suddenly moved over to the combat zone.
Yet when she arrived, all she saw were a dozen bloody and mutilated corpses.
Less than 30 seconds had transpired since she first heard and reacted to the noise, yet her Elites had already perished.
Gripping her bow tightly, Tyrande¡¯s ear twitched, and she unleashed a dozen Searing Arrows at a spot in and around where she heard the noise.
Orange imbued arrows streaked through the air, and each one exploded with enough force to destroy a tree.
Several large oaks groaned as they toppled over, and revealed the target Tyrande had hit.
¡°No.¡± Tyrande felt pain as she saw that the one she struck was a druid in bird form.
Some of her Elites who had moved to reinforce her showed up just in time to witness the carnage.
¡°Sisters, I fear we are being toyed with. That the witch plans to scatter us, and slaughter us one by one. Gather everyone close, I have a plan.¡± Tyrande ordered as she scanned her surroundings vigilantly.
For the first time, a righteous anger had colored her voice. It was one thing to take revenge for Illidan-complicated feelings that there were-but it was an entirely different thing when her friends and long time comrades were played with as if they were worth less than dolls!
¡°We''re here, priestess.¡± A ranger said.
About 79 Night Elves from the original 100 gathered, causing Tyrande to frown.
¡°Is there no sight of Maiev?¡± Tyrande sceptically questioned.
¡°None, priestess, this was all I could find.¡± The sister bowed her head.
¡°Very well. Everyone, don''t leave this small circle. I''m counting on you to watch my back.¡±
Tyrande then began to recite a prayer to Elune.
¡°Mother Moon, bathe us in your glow. Reveal all who mock your children so.¡±
Upon finishing her recital, a radiant moonlight pierced the day time sky, and shone down upon the forest all around them.
Tyrande busily scanned the area, and was using a spell to switch between the spirit owls vision, searching everywhere within a 3 mile radius.
All she spotted were more and more dead bodies, and curiously, Maiev. The Warden was slowly walking towards the circle within stealth.
¡®Now this is odd.¡¯ Tyrande furrowed her brows.
Maiev had been acting suspicious and hostile ever since they had gone after Illidan. Several times, she showed insubordination to both herself and Malfurion.
Additionally, she seemed to have had some prior contact with Faedra. This was highly suspicious.
Furthermore, there were 5 individuals dressed in very strange, extremely bright clothing lurking on the edge of the area. She thought she might have seen something similar at a Dark Moon Fair once. They were¡clowns???
Shaking her head, she didn''t care to explore this matter. She had to finish her prayer.
¡°In the name of the sacred moon, our mother in heaven, I call upon you, seal our enemies'' doom!¡±
¡°Starfall!¡±
Upon finishing the chant, countless white hot globes, twice the size of a person, fell from the sky, and began to decimate the surrounding forest.
Craters dotted the landscape, and trees exploded upon impact. Maiev and the clowns were forced to dodge, and scramble for their lives. Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.
While she channeled this spell, she was vulnerable, and relied upon her Elites to guard her flank.
Tyrande was going to warn her subordinates to raise their guards around the Warden, and these possible new threats, as well as the fact that she hadn''t spotted Faedra, when one of her comrades made a noise.
¡°Sister, look out!¡± A ranger shouted in warning.
Tyrande''s eyes imperceptibly widened in shock, as the ¡®sister¡¯ from earlier who had gathered everyone was actually Faedra!
The pale moonlight from the prayer had revealed her for who she really was!
Caught by surprise, Tyrande felt death approach her as a pair of sickly green glowing daggers came within inches of her face.
¡°Ruargh!¡± Ash¡¯alah raised her claws, and batted Faedra away.
At the same time, Faedra had dug her weapons deeply into the tiger''s eye, and raked the other one around her throat.
¡°Ash¡¯alah, no!¡± Tyrande said in worry as her companion of 15,000 years collapsed in a pool of blood.
White fur became stained red, and labored breaths squeaked into the area as Ash¡¯alah was on the verge of death.
Tyrande tried to heal the tiger, but every time the pale glow of the moon stitched together her wounds, fresh blood would squirt out, and her friend would only moan in pain.
Tears streaming down her eyes, Tyrande stood from a kneeling position, and gnashed her teeth.
Looking out, she saw that her Elites had encircled the rogue.
¡°You shall pay for what you have done here.¡± Tyrande drew on her bow, and shot a magical arrow imbued with the powers of Elune.
¡°Now honey, you and your man started this cat fight, I¡¯m as much of a victim as you are.¡± Faedra ballet danced around the arrow, and conjured a flower in one hand.
¡°For the charming tiger. Her performance was commendable. Bravo!¡± Faedra took a bow-dodging another arrow in the process-and tossed the red rose upon the tiger''s corpse.
¡°Open fire. Don¡¯t let her escape.¡± Tyrande coldly commanded her troops in frustration.
She had priced herself on her exceptional archery, and her inability to hit such a close target was vexing her to no end.
¡°A priestess of Elune who does not honor the duel between Heroes? Tsk, tsk. How the Kaldorei have fallen. You know, you don''t have to follow here orders now, right? How long do you think it is until the Orcs cut down your forests? Can you really survive by standing by and doing nothing?¡± Faedra buffed her nails on her magnificent black ball dress, and blew on them.
The response to her taunt was a flurry of arrows, snapping tree roots, and roaring bears.
¡°Oh very well, but for every tear on my dress, and mud stain on my heels, I''ll be depriving one of you of your ears. Sounds fair?¡± Faedra cheekily said, and flipped a dagger in her hand.
Blinking to the side, Faedra dodged a hail of arrows, and found herself face to face with a druid in bear form.
¡°Auragh!¡± The bear roared.
¡°What a strong demoralizing shout. I''m practically quivering in place. If only there were a big strong man to hold me?¡± Faedra slinked within the druid''s guard, and eviscerated him.
As his neck slumped, he reverted back to his muscular, 9ft tall Night Elf form.
¡°That''s better.¡± Faedra said as she pulled the corpse into a hug, and used it to block a few more arrows.
Blinking to the side once more, she tossed a dozen daggers at a dozen rangers.
The Elites all shot arrows at the daggers, but right when they were about to make contact, the daggers blinked forward 5ft.
¡°By Elune!¡± One ranger swore, and caught a dagger to the forehead.
Four more meaty thunks resounded in the forest, as the momentum of the daggers carried the bodies forward, and impaled them to trees.
One Elite had twisted her body, and caught a dagger to her collar. She tried to pull it out, and seek healing, yet a vile poison spread all throughout her body in the most sinister way.
Foam bubbled to her lips, her eyes grew bigger and bigger until they popped, and her limbs curled in on themselves, like a spider sprayed with house cleaner.
¡°The way you fight¡what is your relation to Warden Shadowsong?!¡± Tyrande demanded as she parried aside a thrown dagger, dodged a second one from behind, and retaliated with three arrows of her own.
¡°We all have parents, don''t we?¡± Faedra stopped Blinking around, and sat on top of a branch just in front of, and above Tyrande.
A black cat came out of the forest, and Faedra lovingly stroked its fur.
¡®If Maiev is the mother, then who is the father? The only man she had extended contact with that I am aware of, is Illidan?!¡¯ Tyrande thought to herself.
Shaking her head to dispel these confusing thoughts, Tyrande focused on the witch sitting before her.
Tyrande raised her bow to shoot at Faedra, but the intense rumbling of Malfurion and Vandercross¡¯s conflict was reaching a crescendo, and began to affect the area they were fighting at.
Random cataclysmic earthquakes, globules of lava, and snow so thick, one could hardly see in front of them all began to descend upon the forest in random anarchy.
¡°It''s beautiful isn''t it? One could lay out the most careful plans, all for the table to flip, and everything to go sideways.¡± Faedra stroked her cat, and calmly sat in place as a 2 story flaming magna boulder exploded behind her.
The ever escalating conflict, and Faedra''s impossible calm ever so slightly unnerved Tyrande.
If she didn''t have experience facing the endless tide of Demons emerging from the Twisting Nether, she might even feel helpless at this moment.
¡°Sisters, do not despair! If we work together, we shall prevail!¡± Tyrande once more ralied her troops, and spread out the True Shot aura in an effort to make her warriors hyper focused.
Yet when she didn''t hear an affirmation, she risked a quick glance around.
Blood soaked clowns had surrounded her, each of them playfully leered at her in a lewd manner.
Off to the side, a dozen of the surviving Night Elves surrounded Maiev, their allegiance clear.
¡°You have done well, Faedra.¡± Maiev praised.
¡°Save your platitudes for someone who cares. This is simply business.¡± Faedra conjured herself a wine glass, and took a sip.
¡°Why? Why would you betray me?¡± Tyrande forlornly asked the Elites who she had nurtured for over ten thousand years.
The rangers and druids looked to the ground with shame filled faces.
¡°Because priestess, they are tired of hypocrisy. Of leaders who have the power to eliminate the Legion''s leftover dogs such as the Satyr, yet they lack the resolve to do what is necessary.¡± Maiev stepped forward.
¡°The Satyr were once our kin, they can be turned from the Fel! Besides, I will not waste what few of us remain when we can remain hidden in safety.¡± Tyrande hotly defended herself.
¡°Will not waste lives? Do you even hear yourself, priestess? What are you doing now, but wasting lives?¡± Maiev hollowly chuckled, and gestured towards the limbs that strewn the battlefield.
¡°I tried to speak reason to Malfurion, but the corruption-¡±
¡°OH yes, so it is important to cleanse the corruption here an ocean away, but the wilting forests we once called home, and now call Felwood are free to rot? Come now priestess, what good is a leader if he spends 99% of the time away from his people? One who unilaterally decides to remove our immortality? Or your action to free Illidan! Give yourself up, and I will see that both you and Malfurion receive a fair trial for your crimes.¡±
Tyrande bowed her head, unknowing what to think.
Was she truly guilty of the Kaldorei decline?
¡°Tyrande!¡± Malfurion''s voice carried on the horizon.
Raising her head up, she looked through the trees, and looked towards the summit of a plateau.
There, she saw something that made her skin crawl, and her blood to still.
Stabbed through the heart, her beloved was breathing his last gasp.
Upon seeing this, something within her snapped, and all reasoning left her mind.
A white beam came from the sky, and began to super charge her with an impossible amount of mana.
¡°Stop her you fools!¡± Maiev hissed to the clowns. She then dashed at Tyrande with the intent to kill.
Yet the white shroud of energy surrounding her rebuffed the Warden, and slammed each of the clowns painfully to the ground.
The moon covered the sun, and the world went dark.
Within the darkness, a new demigod was being born as this energy fused with Tyrande.
It was the Avatar of Elune.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
AN: Syra 100% has an MC anime background based on her lineage and F¡¯d up childhood.
Read up to chapter 173 at:
Chapter 142
Pale white beams of pure power scorched the earth, and lit up the darkness of the eclipse.
Every second, a new beam of energy blasted a new hole in the ground, and the edge of the forest was beginning to swiftly disappear.
Craters dotted the landscape, and every single Elite Night Elf that had turned on Tyrande had been vaporized.
¡°All will perish in the name of Elune¡± The Avatar of Elune spoke in a resonating timbre.
In both herself hands, she wielded a pair of glaives, and dashed at Maiev in a swirl of energy.
White trails of mana coated her form, and enhanced her speed to beyond super sonic levels.
Maiev desperately met Tyrande¡¯s attacks, redirecting one glaive with her circular weapon-the Umbra Crescent-then she tossed a poisoned dagger at Tyrande¡¯s foot.
The Avatar never once blinked, and bull rushed her way through Maiev''s guard. She moved in an extreme flurry of motion, sidestepping the dagger, and forcing Maiev to painfully slam through a dozen trees one after another.
The Warden''s body finally had its momentum halted when she crashed through a rotten building in the broken city of Deatholme, exited through that, and flipped onto her feet, sliding another 10 yards just to stabilize herself.
Spitting out a broken tooth, and wiping her face clean of some dribbling blood, Maiev glared into a building that she had landed next to. Resting within was a demure, black haired vixen calmly sipping on some wine from a fancy glass. She sat in a big comfortable chair, and was cozily warming her hands next to a fireplace
¡°Well? Why. Aren''t. You. Helping?¡± Maiev spat.
¡°Mn, mn, mn, mn, mn. Is that any way to address the daughter who you haven''t seen in oh, 12,521 years, 259 days, 23 minutes, and 22, no, 24 seconds?¡± Faedra tutted.
¡°We will have words after this.¡± Maiev growled, then prepared herself for the next onslaught.
¡°Don''t take this so personal. Like I said, earlier. This is simply business. Help will arrive when the time is right. Someone of your caliber should recognize the value of patience, I imagine.¡± Faedra plucked a cherry out of her glass, and slowly devoured it, an expression of warm satisfaction colored her face as she chewed the red fruit. ¡°Oh, and make sure to dodge this next one, it appears to be particularly lethal. Take this, you''ll need it.¡± Faedra inclined her head, tossed a massive Mana Stone at Maiev, then disappeared from her spot.
¡°Devil''s spawn.¡± Maiev spat.
Only the sound of the crackling fire greeted her in return. Scowling, Maiev doused the flame with a swipe of her weapon, then turned to meet the threat.
An overwhelming buildup of energy was pulsing on the horizon, and heading her way. If Maiev didn''t do something about it, she was sure to meet her demise.
Pointing Umbral Embrace directly at Tyrande, Maiev closed her eyes, and began to draw the surrounding shadows into herself. Using the Mana Stone as fuel, she began to undertake an ancient magic of such incredible magnitude, she could only cast it when the Well of Eternity supplied her with mana.
Currently, this Mana Stone hardly acted as a substitute, but she was in a bind, and desperate times called for desperate measures.
Chanting the words to a spell, Maiev began to pull in vast quantities of Void energy into herself.
¡°Dark by day, light by night. Punishers wake, upon thy reprobates take. The guilty shall know no rest, for the Avatar of Vengeance has taken nest!¡±
Upon completing her spell, the shadows around Maiev waxed and waned until they became taught. The land shuddered, as if it were crying out, and a thousand-thousand piercing screams entreated the Mistress of Shadows for mercy. Those souls Maiev had imprisoned across her eons long life begged, pleaded, implored, and beseeched relentlessly.
Sickly green nature energy attuned mana lashed out from Maiev''s form at the shadows, causing them to squeal in agony.
¡®MERCY~¡¯ The trapped shades called repeatedly, their haunting howls shook the forest.
¡°There is no mercy.¡± Maiev muttered, and clenched her fist tight, squashing the resisting shadows, and their desperate attempts at freedom.
Upon crushing their hopes and dreams, Maiev absorbed their fear as if it were the most succulent of nourishments.
Shortly thereafter, she became a translucent being coated in shadow. Her only defining features were her bright brilliant eyes, and the gleaming weapon, Umbral Embrace which promised a long and agonizing punishment.
It was not a moment too soon either, as Tyrande barreled down upon Maiev¡¯s position like an unrelenting hurricane.
Twin glaives and circular blade clashed again and again. Both Night Elven women acted more as instruments of nature than as individuals with free will as they repeatedly sliced into one another.
Pale moon mana mixed with the shade of Void, and mini explosions happened all around them. Pushed through a dozen buildings, Maiev raked her weapon across the ground, and opened a portal.
Wailing black souls escaped the crevice in a hurry.
Clenching her fist, Maiev applied green shackles to them, then sent them at Tyrande.
The Avatar of Elune coldly swiped her way through the shades on her way to destroy Maiev, however, the shades instantly reformed, and chased after Tyrande like a fog.
¡°This is a long time coming, Tyrande. You cannot escape vengeance.¡± Maiev harshly rasped.
¡°The light of the moon be with you, shade.¡± Tyrande boomed.
Lifting a hand, Tyrande gestured towards Maiev, and a heavy gravity pressed down on the area. Along with this gravity came the conceptual weight of the moon, locking down fast movements, and teleportations.
Tyrande then began to blast the entire region with vertical pale beams of moonfire. The entire area behind, to the side, and around Maiev was constantly being burnt, funneling the Aspect of Vengeance towards the Aspect of Elune.
Maiev was beginning to lose to the cold, overpowering nature of the moon. However, she did not waiver or lose her composure for an instant. Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.
¡°You always thought yourself a good leader, priestess. That because Elune chose you, you were destined. Well I have found us a new Goddess! Azura, Azura, I call upon thee! Break this eclipse, and balance day, by equilibrium¡¯s night! Azura, Azura, heed thy servant¡¯s cry, an offering of souls to your star I make. By your blessing, may the world wake!¡±
Upon finishing her plea, Maiev released the shades she had bound, and they floated up into the sky, only to be swallowed by a portal that led to Oblivion.
Her translucent form left her, and she found herself gasping on her knees as the influx of power disappeared, and hef mana ran dangerously low.
Before Tyrande could lunge forward, and finish the job, an overwhelming pressure descended onto the world.
The air, ground and sea shuddered and shook, then a woman¡¯s voice emerged from the portal.
¡°Elune, false god on high, you must respect the ebb and flow of sun and sky. Begone from this hemisphere!¡±
A channeled beam of sun natured mana, and Void energy spilled out of the portal, and blasted the moon, forcing it away from blocking the sun.
As Tyrande was rushing forward, she suddenly had the white moon¡¯s mana robbed from her body, and pulled back from whence it came.
Stumbling to her knees, Tyrnade gasped as she too did not deal with the sudden stress of losing her Avatar state well.
Low on mana, Tyrande struggled to her feet, and stood over a defenseless Maiev, blade in hand.
¡°Ha. Ha. Do it.¡± Maiev said with conviction between heavy breaths.
Tyrande paused for a moment, then brought the glaive down next to Maiev¡¯s head.
¡°Coward.¡± Maiev spat.
¡°Too much Kaldorei blood has been spilt this day. I will not sully the memory of all our people have accomplished with further violence.¡± Tyrande quietly, and firmly intoned.
¡°An impassioned statement, Lady Tyrande. It almost drove me to tears.¡± Faedra emerged from nearby stealth, and slow-clapped.
¡°The World Tree is intact, and not a single quel¡¯dorei has been slain. Allow myself and my husband to leave these lands, and we shall never return.¡± Tyrande said, as she leaned on her glaive for support.
¡°So much faith that Malfurion remains alive? Such devotion is commendable, but that decision is out of my hands.¡± Faedra splayed her hands out to the side, and ever so slightly shrugged.
¡°If not you, then who?¡± Tyrande frowned.
Landing on the ground with a super sonic thud, Syra churned up dust and debris like a hurricane.
¡°Where is he?¡± Syra all but growled.
Following behind her, Nightsong silently observed everything that was going down with a critical eye.
Looking her daughter in the eye, Faedra knowingly smirked.
¡°Syra dearest, meet your grandmother, Maiev Shadowsong. Oh, and did I mention, this is the wife of the man your Varrus was locked in mortal combat with. It¡¯s been quite silent from the direction they¡¯ve been fighting in for quite some time. What ever shall we do with her?¡± Faedra sarcastically intoned between sips of wine. Her immaculate dress, and flawless skin stood out in stark contrast to the gloomy sky, ruined city, and bedraggled state of both Maiev and Tyrande.
¡°Syra, we are here on a mission of peace. This is all one big misunder-¡± Tyrande got out, but had her speech cut mid sentence as her head flopped into the sky. The power of Holy Void then utterly devoured her, both body and soul.
¡°Where. Is. He?¡± Syra slowly, dangerously intoned as she decapitated the Priestess of the Moon without a care in the world, and took a step towards Faedra.
Blade pointed at her neck, Faedra never once dropped her smile.
¡°Why, my dear, I would hate to stand in the way of true love. Simply follow the path up towards that crystal city, and his location should become apparent. You did give him a bound object after all.¡± Faedra scoffed.
Syra remained silent, then disappeared in a blur.
Nightsong eyed Faedra dispassionately, yet it was the General¡¯s gaze that finally cracked Faedra¡¯s seeming uncaring facade, and had her take a single step back.
¡°I saw everything.¡± Nightsong said, then held up her hand, and a spirit owl flew into her body.
¡°My dear General, whatever do you mea-¡±
¡°I will be watching.¡± Nightsong interrupted Faedra, then left, chasing towards Syra.
¡°Ha, about someone put you in your place. And such a violent scoundrel is your child? I approve.¡± Maiev grinned in schadenfreude after witnessing the play that had just transpired.
¡°Unfortunately, she is more like her grandmother than anyone else in her family tree.¡± Faedra tutted.
¡°Hmph. So what now, my little helion. Tell me how this was all part of your grand scheme to have me take over the Night Elves.¡± Maiev stood to her feet, and wiped dust off herself.
¡°Now? We run.¡± Faedra said in a dead serious tone.
¡°From what? Tyrande lies dead at our boots, and we haven¡¯t heard any activity from the other battlefield for quite some time. If Malfurion were to intervene in Tyrande¡¯s demise, he would have done so by now.¡± Maiev looked at Faedra as if she had gone mad.
¡°Ah, but you are trying to rationalize the actions of your granddaughter. I need not tell you of all people the consequences of love lost?¡± Faedra took a long sip from her glass, and licked her lips in satisfaction as she delivered yet another slight at her long lost mother.
¡°Careful, Faedra. I may be weak now, but that does not mean I shall tolerate such disrespect.¡± Maiev coldly spat.
Faedra merely quirked an eyebrow and replied with a smile, before Blinking away.
A second later, an overwhelming amount of Holy Void energy erupted from Syra¡¯s location.
It was so brutal, so emotional, it threatened to tear a permanent hole in the fabric of Azeroth.
Standing on an empty plateau, what had set Syra off was an unbelievable sight.
There on the ground, Malfurion had a dagger pierced through his chest, and Varrus¡¯s arm cleanly shoved through his back, and out the front. Meanwhile, Rho¡¯dan was clasping onto Malfurion¡¯s hands.
None of this would throw Syra into a hysterical fit ordinarily, however, what she saw was her husband, and his bodyguard staring blankly out into nothing, as if their spirits had left their bodies.
Syra went to shake Varrus, when a voice stopped her in her tracks.
¡°I wouldn¡¯t do that, if I were you.¡± Prince Valanar, druid and Lightforged Darkfallen said from the side.
¡°Tell me.¡± Syra shoved her blade deep into the earth, and eyed him murderously. At the same time, her tone carried with it a hint of nervous, mad desperation.
¡°Because their spirits have been stolen into the Emerald Dream. Any disturbance in the real world may break their concentration in the dream. Likewise, any damage sustained in the dream affects reality. Look, even now, a gash has formed on his arm, this was not there when I first arrived.¡± Valanar pointed out.
Syra hissed once she saw this, then pulled Valanar up by the collar of his robes.
¡°You are a druid. Take me into the Emerald Dream.¡± Syra demanded.
¡°It¡¯s highly risky, especially with my Undead state, and could be extremely dangerous.¡± Valanar raised his hands, and cautioned.
¡°That wasn¡¯t a request.¡± Syra stared the Prince down with a heavy intensity.
¡°Very well, I will help you enter the Emerald Dream. Will you be joining Lady Vandercross, General?¡± Valanar enquired from the silent Nightsong.
¡°The Emerald Dragonflight shall rue the day they abducted my boy.¡± Nightsong erupted with a cold fury no less than Syra¡¯s.
¡°R-right! Then let us begin!¡± Valanar stuttered, then started to conduct a ritual.
Syra clenched the handle to her weapon tightly as she saw several more wounds appear on his body.
¡®Hold on my love, we are coming for you!¡¯
Chapter 143
(Varrus POV)
During the struggle to claim Malfurion''s life, Varrus had twisted his dagger deep into the Night Elf, and Rho''dan was tightly gripping the demigod''s hands so that he couldn''t remove the dagger, then escape and heal himself back to full health.
¡°Just. Give. Up.¡± Varrus growled at the barely living Night Elf.
His perks were preventing him from healing, and a knife was literally stabbed through Malfurion''s heart, yet he barely hung on to life.
¡°This body is finished, the after life calls to me. Yet you, young one, prove yourself to be irredeemable. A villain in all but name. Not only do you desecrate my body, but plan to desecrate my soul! This, I cannot allow! Lady Ysera, I beseech thee, please rescue me in my time of need!¡± Malfurion pleaded towards the heavens.
With the last of his energy, he opened up a tiny portal no wider than the width of a hand.
¡°Malfurion?!¡± A young woman''s voice, one that sounded distant yet near came out of the tiny portal. She had an airy quality to her tone, almost as if she was on drugs.
Almost on cue, she belatedly continued the conversation in answer to Malfurion''s plea. ¡°Ah, it''s you. I''ve dreamed of you. Please come inside. Although I don''t know where you''ll land. I''m very, ahhh~, busy.¡± The woman-who could only be Ysera-yawned.
Then, the tiny portal began to swirl, and a suctioning force started to pull on Varrus.
Looking up, Varrus wanted to wretch as the world stretched. For a brief moment, he saw his body from a 3rd person POV, as if he were looking at himself from a video game character''s perspective.
The world then began to spin, and Varrus found his consciousness, along with Malfurion¡¯s and Rho''dan''s, were sucked into the portal as if they had been flushed down the drain.
Rapid blinking lights, and all sorts of trippy scenes flashed by his vision within a millisecond. His eyes stung, and the air never smelt crisper.
Rubbing his eyes and barfing his guts out on the ground, Varrus found himself in a disturbing new realm.
It felt like he was in a half finished painting. Some trees, and animals had such fine details to them, it felt like he was looking at some exquisite S tier 3D materials. While some animals sparked a very deep uncanny valley feeling in him, making Varrus weirded out.
There were bushes and trees that were missing details, and out in the far horizon was a blank void. There was an edge to this realm, and the cutoff point was like a big blank painters canvas.
For the first time in a long time, Varrus felt concern for his soul. Death was terrifying enough in a world that had Aedra/Dadra and WoW fuckery, but with the Sunwell, he planned on living forever.
However, this unexpected out of body experience was a reminder as to how despite his power level, despite the fact that he stomped Malfurion, that he wasn''t invincible.
Speaking of Malfurion and Rho''dan, were they nearby? Putting a hand over his forehead to block out the light, Varrus scanned his surroundings, but couldn''t see either of them.
Before he made any decisions, he checked his status to make sure he was still connected to the Sunwell.
[Sunwell: Unlimited Stamina, 100% Mana Regeneration, Unlimited Lifespan, Immune to Disease, Damage Increased: Elemental: 20%, Life: 10%, Light: 10%, Arcane: 50%]
Eyup, still connected baby!
¡°Hrm, but what''s this?¡± Varrus frowned and muttered to himself as he noticed a new status condition.
[Emerald Dream: All magic/physical damage-except Illusion-decreased effectiveness by 100%. Illusion magic increased effectiveness by 150%.]
Varrus scratched his chin as he saw this change in his system. On one hand, it really sucked, because using his Mana Stones defensively or offensively would be kind of pointless with this nerf.
On the other hand, some of his Illusion spells were absolutely nasty.
Not to mention the perks.
So while this did hurt him quite a lot-as versatility was what made him so dangerous-it also turned him into an Illusion glass cannon.
Shrugging his shoulders at the strange new rules to this realm, Varrus decided he would find his friend first, then go pay Ysera a beating.
If he was going to get out of here, he reckoned he could absorb her soul, and become the new Aspect of Dreams, just like he had done with Murozond.
Casting the spell Clairvoyance, and thinking thoughts along the lines of ¡®point me to Rho''dan¡¯ a blue line spawned in front of Varrus, and started to lead him in a direction.
Following the blue line that only he could see, Varrus did so from within a cloak of invisibility. Shroudwalk was another invaluable Illusion spell, and was even better thanks to the buff.
His stealth capabilities also improved thanks to the Illusion buff in the form of the perk Shadow Refuge.
Shadow Refuge - While affected by an invisibility spell or effect, you take 35%->105% less damage from attacks and sneaking is 15%->36% better.
Strolling his way through this new realm, Varrus began to notice that the verdant trees, bushes and grasslands were beginning to taper off.
The landscape started to take on Fall colors, and pulsing, tumorous growths started to appear on the foliage.
If he had to describe his surroundings, it was as if everything had been infected with super cancer. Pulsating sacs filled with foul smelling liquid dangled from trees, yellow pus leaked from fruits, and swarms of gnats buzzed everywhere.
The animals too, had morphed into something both horrifying and disgusting.
One fox that Varrus spotted had its body twisted like a pretzel, yet it continued to roam the land as if it had been born that way. It was as if Varrus was the anomaly with his symmetrical features.
From his knowledge of Warcraft, knew that there was a Satyr named Xavius, the so-called Nightmare Lord who was to blame for all of this.
In the lore, he was corrupted by the Old Gods, but he also was the one responsible for pushing Queen Azshara to summon Sargeras when he was an Elf. These two conflicting stories had Varrus suspicious of his true motive and master.
While Varrus had been forcibly dragged here by the leader of the Green Dragonflight, Ysera, that didn¡¯t mean he was stupid enough to clap her cheeks, then wipe his hands of the situation and walk away.
This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.
What happened in the Dream affected reality. There was an event in Warcraft that got glossed over pretty quickly by the writers, it was known as the Emerald Nightmare.
In the Emerald Nightmare event, Azeroth''s entire ecosystem got thrown out of wack, and threatened to basically spread turbo aids directly into every fruit, vegetable, and plant. All the while, that mad bastard Xavius wanted to merge both the dream world, and reality into one singular plane.
That was something Varrus could not allow.
Frankly speaking, upon witnessing such a blatant display of corruption, Varrus wanted to go full scorched earth upon the land.
However, he wanted to make sure Rho''dan was safe first, then maybe he could find out where the asshole Satyr was, and end the threat to Azeroth once and for all.
Shaking his head, Varrus couldn''t help but grin. With rhetoric like that, Varrus felt like he was beginning to sound like Thrall or Jaina.
He never thought he''d see the day where he moved towards a goal that wasn''t just ¡®for my friends, family and country¡¯ but also ¡®for the world.¡¯
Witholding a chuckle, Varrus paused in his step as he heard the sounds of extremely violent combat up ahead.
It just so happened that his Clairvoyance spell was taking him right towards the action.
Scanning his surroundings, Varrus noticed that all of the nightmare creatures began to stampede towards that direction as well.
Picking up his speed, Varrus exited the thick woodland area, and came across a clearing.
Verdant purple grass, a small teal colored lake, and orange skies greeted his eyes.
This entire region was chalk full of corruption!
But what really drew his attention was the fight going on above the lake.
The armored figure of Rho''dan was levitating above the water, and he would occasionally Blink here and there.
His redheaded guard was fighting side by side with a Green Dragon. The two of them were combating three other corrupted, house-sized Heroic Dragons, a swarm of Elite drakes, and thousands of dog-sized whelps.
From Varrus¡¯s vantage, it seemed that Rho''dan and the Green Dragon were pressed from all sides, and were struggling to make any headway.
Keeping in mind that he practically should only use Illusion spells as all other trees of magic were currently nerfed, Varrus opted for a mass AOE spell.
It was one of his favorites for taking out trash mobs. It was:
Mayhem!
Red light erupted from Varrus¡¯s position,and as it wasn''t technically an offensive spell, didn¡¯t break his invisibility!
The amount of spell power pumped into the magic thanks to Varrus¡¯s enchanted equipment saw a tsunami of red mana cascade all over the place, and cover the entire lake.
At that moment, every single Elite, and Common creature that was present turned on one another, and began to mercilessly kill.
Varrus smirked to himself as the perk, Pandemonium activated, increasing the damage that those under a frenzy effect could output by 50%!
His grin widened even further when one of the Heroic corrupted Dragons failed to resist Mayhem, and unexpectedly bit into the neck of its compatriot.
Rho''dan, never one to waste a good opportunity, capitalized on this surprise opening, and thrust his sword into the flesh underneath the third Dragon''s jaw. Blood jetted out of the True Dragon, and it roared at Rho''dan in mindless fury.
Before it could retaliate, the Green Dragon that had been fighting alongside Rho''dan crashed into it, and breathed emerald colored flames upon it.
Varrus remained within his stealthed, invisible state, and started channeling the spell, Evil Twin.
Evil Twin: While concentrating, manifests illusions of nearby enemies to attack them. Illusions take extra damage from attacks.
Ordinarily, he would never use any magic or form of attack that had him sitting still.
But in a massed battle like this, one where he couldn''t use his typical Destruction or Arcane spells, Evil Twin got the job done.
While he got to work, thousands of illusory see-through blue clones began to pop into existence. They didn¡¯t hesitate or pause for an instant, and started to back stab the frenzied corrupted creatures with impunity.
The teal colored lake turned muddy brown as vast quantities of blood dripped into it.
Within five minutes, the army that had been besieging Rho''dan had all but killed themselves.
Of the three Heroic Dragons, two lay dead, and Rho''dan was performing the coup de grace on the last one.
¡°Hm.¡¯ Rho''dan let loose a muffled groan as he parried a clawed attack with his shield.
The brawny tall man then ducked under the next swipe, and scored a heavy stab into its heart. His enchanted blade churned and made a sound like a chainsaw as it ripped into the Dragon''s scales, and exploded once it fully entered the creature''s leathery body.
As it collapsed, it fell upon Rho''dan, who was just a fraction to slow to dodge it.
¡°Rho''dan!?¡± The Green Dragon yelled out in surprise.
Transforming into a practically naked Night Elf, she stood next to the corpse, and hopped from side to side in a fretting manner.
¡°Will you be decloaking, sir?¡± Rho''dan asked from Varrus''s side.
¡°Hmm, I almost didn''t notice you Blink. You''re getting better all the time.¡± Varrus praised.
In fact, the only reason why he noticed Rho''dan was because they had exchanged bound items, and would always know when the other was nearby. For someone so big and wearing a full suit of plate armor, Rho''dan was scarily stealthy.
¡°If one is to protect the Highlord, then he should at least have such basic capabilities.¡± Rho''dan seriously intoned.
¡°Yeah, yeah, enough tooting your own horn. Anyway, who''s the dream girl? Girlfriend number 2 perhaps?¡± Varrus wiggled his eyebrows, and said in a suggestive voice.
¡°Please, not another one. I very much wish you did not push that Human girl on me.¡± Rho''dan broke his always stalwart persona for a moment, and ran a hand through his long luxurious red hair.
¡°You''re a 6¡¯5 rugged Elf with a scar. I can''t help it if women find you irresistible. Pretty-Boys like myself are a dime a dozen in Quel''Thalas, but that scar, facial hair, and overall reliable nature that just oozes around you is just something I, alongside 99% of the rest of our race, are lacking. So I might as well use you for the betterment of House Vandercross!¡± Varrus replied with a cheeky grin.
¡°Ahem. So, what shall we do with the Dragon, sir? While we were fighting together, it was more as allies of convenience. Our relationship is strictly professional.¡± Rho''dan coughed into his hand, and looked at Varrus dispassionately as he awaited order.
¡°You sly dog, she knew your name! What else did you tell her?¡± Varrus continued teasing.
¡°I did not tell her my name.¡± Rho''dan said, his cheeks slightly turning rosy.
¡°Oh? Then how else would she-hmm, it just occurred to me that we are in the Emerald Dream, perhaps a few nightly, intimate visits-¡±
¡°Sir, I think we should see what the Dragon has to say. Although we were dragged here against our will, they do not seem hostile.¡± Rho''dan said in a curt tone.
¡°Oh very well. Let''s see what the beautiful lady has to say. Who knows, maybe this time, I''ll take over an entire realm with my subordinate''s good looks!¡± Varrus laughed to himself as he decloaked from invisibility, and began to walk towards the soiled lake.
Rho''dan stood motionless, much to Varrus¡¯s amusement.
¡°Well don''t just stand there, Rho''dan, get over here! And remember, for House Vandercross!¡±
¡°...¡± Rho''dan remained tight lipped as he followed behind Varrus.
¡°Ahem, I think I said. For House Vandercross!¡± Varrus paused, and turned to look Rho''dan in the eye.
Rho''dan''s cheek twitched, yet the taciturn man was compelled by duty.
¡°For House Vandercross.¡± Rho''dan said as if he were having his teeth pulled.
¡°Atta boy! Together, we''ll make great things, Rho''dan!¡± Varrus cheerfully slapped Rho''dan on the arm, then resumed his walk.
In a good mood, Varrus was beginning to think this insane adventure would turn out to be a great boost to the Covenant!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
AN: Read up to chapter 176 at:
Chapter 144
As Varrus was walking towards the Night Elf, and the disgusting brown colored lake, the 3 Dragon souls flew towards him, and were absorbed into his body.
The spectacular light show, and Dragon corpses suddenly losing all their flesh must have been quite eye-catching, as the Green Dragon disguised as a Night Elf turned in their direction.
¡°Rho''dan?!¡± The girl said almost hysterically.
¡°Hail, fair maiden, is this the Rho''dan you are looking for?¡± Varrus said with a big grin on his face as he walked out of the treeline, and shoved Rho''dan forward.
¡°Rho''dan!¡± The lady ran into his chest, and embraced him.
Rho''dan squinted his eyes, and gave Varrus an uncomfortable look.
Varrus merely winked in response. This would be considered sexual harassment back on Earth, but this was a fantasy world. Besides, he wasn''t above using his employees good looks and rugged disposition to get an edge in negotiations.
¡°Ahem. Greetings, I am Varrus Vandercross of the sin''dorei. We came to this realm due to a magical accident, could you explain what is going on, or how we might return home?¡± Varrus cleared his throat and did his best impression of a generic shounen protag that wanted to get home at all costs.
¡°Rho''dan, who is the twig? Can you tell him to leave so that we might spend some intimate time together.¡± The lady loudly whispered.
Rho''dan inclined his head at Varrus, yet said nothing.
All joviality and smug superiority left Varrus''s face as he glared at Rho''dan.
¡°Well Rho''dan. I suppose I''ll leave you to it then.¡± Varrus clapped his hands and started to walk away.
¡°Highlord, do not be in such a hurry. I am certain Merithra would love to share with us such vital information. Wouldn''t you, Merithra?¡± Rho''dan gently, yet firmly pushed the seemingly crazy woman away, and took a step back to Varrus¡¯s side.
Varrus raised an eyebrow. Merithra sounded like a somewhat familiar name. If he remembered correctly, this should be Ysera''s number one lieutenant and the 2nd in command of the Green Dragonflight, what was she doing out here alone?
¡°As you know, my name is Merithra. I was scouting nearby, and felt a disturbance. Following the trail, I found my Rho''dan, unfortunately, so did the others.
But you don''t care about that, or the safety of your friend, do you? All you want to know is how to escape. Typical men. Unlike Rho''dan, what do any of you know of loyalty?¡± Merithra scoffed.
Varrus rubbed the bridge of his nose in consternation. He really and truly felt like blasting this snarky bitch back to the dark ages, but since she was the literal #2 Green Dragon, using her proclivities towards Rho''dan could be useful to overthrow the Green Dragonflight from within.
So for the sake of peace, he decided to temporarily put up with her loud mouth.
¡°While it may appear that way, my Lady, I assure you, my first priority was finding Rho''dan. And here I am. Now that we are reunited, I simply wish to know what ailment has transpired within this realm, and how to exit. Perhaps, we might even be of some assistance in eliminating this pestilence?¡± Varrus spread his arms wide, and plastered ¡®sincere smile #2¡¯ onto his face.
¡°I''ve seen your dreams, Varrus Vandercross. There isn''t a more fraudulent Elf that walks this plane. Unlike Rho''dan, your loyalty is to your first self, others later. But enough of small men and small matters, the realm is in danger, and I can use any help that I can get.¡± Merithra smiled gaily, and stepped closer yet again, this time instead of hugging him, she squeezed Rho''dan''s bicep.
Varrus felt a vein on his forehead thrumming.
Did this woman really just berate him about loyalty?! He was tempted by supermodel looking Elves every day, yet remained monogamous. He could be King, yet preferred friendship. He supplied the entire army with enchanted equipment free of charge. True, he was a selfish bastard who abused the law, placed his hand picked loyal men on the cabinet, and made unilateral decisions regarding foreign affairs, but that did not mean she had the right to call him disloyal!!!
Varrus very nearly blew a gasket then and there.
However, what truly had him concerned was that she had seen his dreams. What did this Green Dragon know about him that he did not want shared? Did she have easy acess to his drrams as all times, or, as his Illusion tree and perks became active, was she-and others-kicked out of his sleeping mind?
The implications were stunning.
While he knew the Emerald Dream was important for balancing the ecosystem in the real world, Varrus, for the first time, very seriously considered destroying it.
The Emerald Dream should not have always existed. Azeroth survived without it before, who was to say the planet would be worse off without it?
While Varrus was internally fuming, Rho''dan had said something to Merithra, and the Green Dragon began to actually answer Varrus''s questions.
A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
¡°A war is going on between the Satyr, Xavius, and Ysera, the Aspect of Dreams. A slave of three surnames, Xavius has hoodwinked the powers of the ancient Highborne, the Demons, and the Daedra. His lies and false promises have led to a doomsday scenario for the dream world. Self-titled the Nightmare King, his influence blocks all portals out of the Emerald Dream.¡± Merithra explained.
Varrus frowned. It seemed he would have to solve this Xavius problem, then possibly throw down with Ysera. All the while, his only access to magic was practically limited to Illusion magic, since that 100% nerf on all other schools was pretty serious.
¡°Hmm, very well, Lady Merithra. We shall help you resolve this crisis. But why do I sense such heavy animosity towards Xavius from you, is it because he corrupted this land, or is there something more?¡± Varrus crossed his arms, and interrogated her.
¡°...Xavius was considered the second strongest mage to have ever lived amongst the Highborne. If Queen Azshara was number one, then none other than Xavius could claim to be number two. As skilled as he was, I had visited his dreams many times. We had grown infatuated with one another. At least, I thought it was so, but then he betrayed me to the Legion.¡± Merithra spat with an unbridled amount of venom that only a spurned woman could muster.
Varrus shared a glance with Rho''dan as the crazy lady looked off into the blank white void on the horizon.
Perhaps he wouldn''t be using a honey pot method to win over the Greens. While he had come to see such behavior as endearing in Syra, watching such obsessive behavior from the outside was worrying to say the least.
Could he really subject Rho''dan to such a one-sided relationship?
Shaking his head, Varrus couldn''t help but sigh. Destroying the Green Dragonflight was just making more and more sense the more he thought about it. But he would still give them a small chance to prove themselves.
From what Ysera said when summoning them, it almost sounded like she was relieved to have Varrus come aboard. So while maybe it wasn''t an intentional summoning, she likely hoped he could act as some sort of Hero for the Emerald Dream.
Depending on how Ysera acted, he might just team up with her, but if Merithra, the second in command was acting like this, it did not paint a pretty picture for the Greens outlook.
Shaking his head once more, Varrus decided that before he cast Clairvoyance to seek out Xavius, he would try out some of his spells on the environment.
Just because his other schools of magic were nerfed, didn''t mean Varrus couldn''t see for himself how strong his spells were. Back on Azeroth, he could power wash corrupted land like it was nothing back before he had these 300% buffed enchantments. Perhaps this nerf made his spells about as weak as a low-tier Hero, such as Koren, or Telonicus?
¡°Before we leave to destroy Xavius, I''m going to test something. Neither of you be alarmed.¡± Varrus warned Rho''dan and Merithra ahead of time, so that when they saw him casting BIG MAGIC out of nowhere, they didn''t overreact.
Seeing that they weren''t saying anything, Varrus started experimenting.
Dropping down Frozen Orb, Forbidden Sun, Apocalypse and other massive AOE spells, Varrus determined that in terms of raw destructive power, they were indeed around the low-Hero tier. This also meant his Ebony Flesh would be weaker. However, the enchanted protection coming from his gear should be unchanged. So while his defenses were weaker, they weren''t tragic.
The one spell category he didn''t test were his long distance teleportation spells that might return him to Azeroth. For one, he was in a soul form, and didn''t think they would work. Plus, if Merithra was to be believed, Xavius had something going on that prevented people from leaving this realm. Secondly, he knew that this would be his best chance to kill Xavius. There would be no better time to clean up the Emerald Dream than now.
Now, all he wanted to test was to see if he could purge his surroundings of corruption.
Swapping to Infinite Light, Varrus sprayed the surrounding woodlands, and lake. The power washing ability of his Master tier Restoration spell still worked!
Spraying the beam of pure light all over the place, Varrus had a satisfied feeling as the nasty cancerous overgrowth took on a green, healthy hue. Trees lost their purple grey bark for fresh, healthy brown. The foliage, clouds, everything his beam sprayed became clean.
Aiming towards the lake, Varrus watched it bubble, and start to change from brown to teal, to clear.
¡°What are you doing?!¡± Merithra said in shock, and moved toward Varrus in a frenzy.
¡°Huh?¡± Varrus glanced at the crazy Night Elf woman in disbelief.
¡°Stop.¡± Rho''dan ordered, and held her back.
¡°Do not do this!¡± Merithra shouted hysterically.
What was wrong with purging this corruption?
Varrus narrowed his eyes. He had thought this girl had been acting suspiciously for a while now. Was she revealing her true colors?
He was considering if he should conduct a more thorough interrogation when suddenly, he felt the ground rumble, and the howl of a dog that shook the world resounded in the air.
¡°WAH-OOO! WAH, WAH, WAH-OOOOOOO!!!¡±
Emerging from the lake, a two headed dog the size of a two-story building directed four menacing, red eyes at Varrus.
Blinking his eyes, Varrus thought he recognized this mutt from the Lunar Festival event he had taken part in long ago.
The pressure of a demigod emanated from the dog, and comets erupted from the sky upon the completion of its howl.
Fiery white celestial bodies fell indiscriminately as the dog grinned, and saliva slobbered down his twin chins.
Explosions cratered the area, and the dog began to howl. Corruptive Fel energies began to radiate from him, and Varrus had the feeling he would pounce on them any moment now.
¡°I tried to warn you.¡± Merithra scolded as she transformed into a Dragon, and took flight.
¡°I''m with you till the end, Highlord.¡± Rho''dan drew his sword, and stepped in front of Varrus.
Varrus could only chuckle at his misfortune.
¡°I recognize this beast. What we fight is a demigod who once served Elune, but was transformed by the Fel 10,000 years ago during the Burning Legion''s first invasion. What we face goes by the name:
Omen.
Chapter 145
Varrus was racking his brain, trying to think about how to deal with this sudden encounter. For all intents and purposes, he was ambushed and caught with his pants down.
The Illusion skill tree was mighty, yet it was strongest when used against opponents of a weaker tier, when he was in stealth, or had other spells to use in a complimentary manner.
Strictly using Illusion magic-at least the spells he was familiar with-was difficult to say the least.
As he was beginning to form a plan, he saw that the twin headed Fel dog, Omen, was completely ignoring both himself and Rho''dan, in favor of chasing after Merithra.
The giant dog was pouncing at her, and had his tail wagging as if he were chasing after a butterfly!
Varrus wanted to laugh, Merithra had really been grinding her gears, and watching her struggle to dodge was cathartic.
However, Omen was quite the serious threat, and Varrus couldn''t afford to watch this show and remain as an idle participant.
Every step he took, Omen left behind a trail of destruction. His body was so strong, he effortlessly walked through trees like a man would step over leaves. Splinters and wood shavings swept through the air as Omen jumped after the Heroic Green Dragon.
Saliva melted the ground, and the wagging of his tail conjured hurricanes. This truly was a mutt born from Hell.
The slobbering hound snapped at Merithra, but she did a barrel roll, and just barely scraped by.
When his jaws missed her by just a hair, he landed with a mighty thump. The earth shook, and Varrus had to brace himself, lest he fall over.
All the while, a continued hellstorm of green comets were pelting the surroundings thanks to Omen''s howl, and the area Varrus had cleaned of corruption swiftly returned to a state of cancerous contusions.
Green radiation swept through the atmosphere, and Varrus felt as if he were inhaling radioactive debris from a nuclear warhead''s explosion.
Furthermore, Omen was shooting out a beam of pure Fel energy with one head, and the other was constantly howling to summon more comets.
The sky became clouded in black smoke, and whirlwinds carrying Fel raged all around. Green lightning struck the ground, and an acid rain started to ping off Varrus''s protective enchantments.
All of this took place over the course of a handful of minutes. The power and destruction of a demigod was in full force!
¡°Highlord, we must do something!¡± Rho''dan shouted to have his voice heard over the incredible noise generated by the hellstorm.
In the process he sliced a comet that was heading towards them in half, then shield bashed the pieces, causing an Arcane explosion to emit from hus shield, and turn them into ash.
Varrus didn''t respond to Rho''dan immediately, as the plan he had been formulating finally came into focus.
¡°Rho''dan, I''ll need to get close to Omen to defeat him. But he¡¯s too strong for what I have in mind to work. I have to whittle him down, and will be using a spell that limits my movement. I need you to cover me!¡± Varrus raised his voice, and shouted.
¡°With my life, Highlord!¡± Rho''dan shouted back.
Varrus nodded at his long-time guard, then got to work.
To open things up, he opened his mouth, and used the surprisingly useful Shout, Clear Skies.
¡°Lok. Var. Koor!¡±
(Sky. Spring. Summer!)
Upon unleashing this Dragon Shout unto the heavens, the black clouds of smoke, acid rain, lightning, and comets were all forced into retreat.
Next, Varrus cast Backlash on Omen.
Backlash: Interrupts target spellcaster. If a spell is interrupted, the target is hit by their own offensive spells, while non-offensive spells are cast on you.
While the twin headed hound was distracted, and chasing after Merithra, it wasn''t in a position to try and block the silent spell, and took it in the back.
The pale blue orb the size of a fist seemed unremarkable, but the effect was extraordinary.
Omen had been firing a bright green beam of pure Fel at Merithra the size and width of a skyscraper. Everywhere that beam passed, the land became instantly vaporized!
However, that same untapped power of destruction would be Omen''s downfall.
As Backlash kicked into effect, a catastrophic failure occurred on Omen''s end, and that same, notoriously volatile Fel energy exploded from Omen''s inside!
Superheated green cracks formed on the dog''s skin, and steam began to erupt out of all his pores all at once.
The hound collapsed to the ground with a mighty thump, and struggled to get back up.
Varrus felt sort of bad for giving a dog such a big beat down, but it had to be done.
Surprisingly, Omen was made of sterner stuff, and despite tasting an internal explosion of epic proportions, stood to his feet.
A shimmering energy leaked from his pores, and the damaged cracks began to swiftly heal, showcasing that not only was the dog tanky af, but that he had healing capabilities as well!
¡°Just frickin great. I hate cockroach villains. Only I should be the one with the ability to heal endlessly.¡± Varrus muttered to himself as he watched the mutt standing proud, and glistening under the sun as if he had never been hurt in the first place.
¡°Awoooo! AW-AW-AWOOOOOOOOO!!!¡± Omen howled into the sky, then turned his red eyes towards Varrus.
The dog wasn''t stupid, and realized the attack had come from him.
Green fire lit up in its mouth, and it looked as if Omen were about to shoot the beam out once again as it ran at Varrus.
Preparing Backlash again, Varrus intended to unleash it as soon as Omen released his breath attack. Then, he would grab Rho''dan, and Blink out of the way.
Yet as Omen charged forward, it never actually released the magic, and was baiting him!
Omen, in one attack, had recognized the capability and threat of Backlash!
Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.
Varrus meanwhile, was severely limited in the ways he could halt Omen''s forward progress.
¡°Am I to continue acting as the front line then?¡± Rho''dan grimly intoned, yet his voice did not waver for an instant.
The red headed muscular Elf was very clearly willing to give his life if it meant delaying the mutt.
¡°Let us hope it does not come to that. You can dodge if you must, I have two separate spells that allow me to dodge the undodgeable.¡± Varrus calmly replied.
Between Become Ethereal and the Time Phase ability he obtained when he slew Murozond, he wasn''t worried about getting slapped into meat paste.
As the hound drew near, Varrus tossed out his flying carpet, and took flight. He determined kiting this beast would be the best method to achieve victory.
Before he got too far, Varrus made sure to buff Rho''dan.
¡°Wait for it to chase after me before you engage! Do nothing more than aim to harry the beast! I shall be the one to claim victory this day!¡± Varrus called down to Rho''dan as he ascended into the sky.
Riding on an improved enchanted flying carpet, Varrus took to the air, and began to fly at speeds that could compete with the fastest of jet engines. He then started to pelt Omen with dozens of tiny, sinister attacks.
It dodged dozens of the pale-blue orbs that Varrus was tossing at him, but as Omen drew closer, he could not avoid them all!
In swift succession, two spells struck the hound, and one supporting spell slowed its forward progress.
They were: Seidstone, Pale Shadow, and Illusory Pyre.
Seidstone: The stone manifests illusions of nearby dead for 40 seconds. Illusions take extra damage from attacks.
Pale Shadow: Target enemy is attacked by its own image for 60 seconds. It deals the same damage but has 1 Health.
Illusory Pyre: Illusory explosion deals 25% of their current Health as temporary damage that wears off after 60 seconds. (Buff increase 15 -> 60s)
The Seidstone conjured up the entire army of dragonkin that had lain dead and slaughtered across the battlefield. Varrus once more cast Mayhem on these phantoms, and buffed their combat potential by 50%.
While the illusory figures weren''t that strong, and Omen ran through them as if they were made of cardboard, they still proved to be annoying enough to distract the hound.
Limited by the threat of Backlash, Omen couldn''t blast them apart with magic, and was forced to suffer through countless ¡®gnat-like¡¯ stings.
Even for a demigod, tanking innumerable Elite hits, and the concentrated fire of three Heroic Dragons was a serious annoyance, proving that overwhelming numbers could pose a threat to such a powerful being!
However, thanks to his healing factor, Omen could ignore most of this, and continued to bound at Varrus, almost catching up to him.
This was when Illusory Pyre struck the dog.
Pale flames struck the hound, and instantly chunked away 25% of his total HP. In reality, this percentage translated to his right front leg going up in flame, and instantly melting into nothing.
The brutal scene was accentuated by Omen crashing roughly into the ground. Seismic waves created a great crater like that of a meteor!
¡°Hnmm!¡± Omen whined in confusion, as his leg wasn''t regenerating like he was accustomed to.
Varrus winced at the dog''s whine, as he had a soft spot in his heart for the furry animals, yet he hardened his spirit, and finished things with the coup de grace.
He only had 60 seconds to accomplish the goal he had set out for himself, and achieve total victory.
The Pale Shadow finally connected, and a giant replica of Omen dropped on top of himself.
Four snarling heads began to snarl and bite into one another in a giant kaiju fight reminiscent of Godzilla vs Mecha Godzilla.
They rolled around, and tousled so much, that half the illusory dragonkin were destroyed in the crossfire!
Poor Rho''dan was running, jumping, and teleporting all over the place simply trying not to get rolled over and squished flat like a pancake.
Varrus wanted to laugh at his long time companion, but now, while Omen was distracted, was the time to act!
Flying towards the fight, Varrus cast a spell he had never used before. It was the Master tier calm spell, Harmony!
A green, soothing power left him, and rushed towards the weakened, distracted skyscraper sized hound.
Ordinarily, Varrus would not use the spells like fury, calm, or fear on opponents on the same tier as him, because they typically resisted it rather easily.
Anyone who had intelligence, and sufficient internal mana could break themselves out of any one of these emotional states.
However, through experimentation, Varrus learned that magic that might be resisted, was more effective against distracted or weakened foes!
And so, his plan all along was to soothe this raging hound, and defeat it through trickery, instead of overwhelming it through brute force, like he so typically did.
Once the green energy entered Omen, it very obviously struggled to break free. One head had succumbed to the soothing sensation, yet the other one was still ready to rumble.
Running out of time, with only 8 seconds left of the Pale Shadow, and the effect of the Illusory Pyre, Varrus didn''t want to waste time casting another calm spell now that Omen was aware of its effects, as he would probably resist Varrus''s spell!
Gritting his teeth, this next part of his plan would be a little dicey, but it had to be done.
Blinking within melee range, Varrus had to swiftly phase out of the timeline with the Aspect of Time ability so he wouldn''t be crushed by the pair of dueling hounds.
Reentering reality as soon as Omen passed, and the last second ticked on Pale Shadow/Illusory Pyre, Varrus activated the perk The Reaper Comes, which could only be used on someone that was under the effect of a calm spell, and conjured up another exact copy of the target to do battle.
However, Varrus commanded this copy not to attack, because ANY Illusion spell actibatable triggered the ultimate Illusion perk at the top of the skill tree, Wraithwalker.
In short, Wraithwalker boosted every Illusion spell by 50% effectiveness, and 50% duration.
Stacking every single buff and effect right now, his Illusion spells were hitting at a mid-high demigod tier!
All that was in preparation for one Novice Illusion spell. One he could not afford to miss.
Grinning to himself, Varrus cast one of his favorite support spells: Dispel Magic.
Once the spell made contact with Omen, an incredible spectacle occurred.
The Fel energy covering the beast melted away like Spring driving frost off a mountain.
Omen, the vicious hellhound shrugged off the horrible aura, lost his second head, and became a cute pupper.
Coming in close, Varrus pet the dog on the head, and activated one more ability:
Speak With Animals.
A perk under the Speech tree, it allowed Varrus to bind one animal as his permanent animal companion, and what better target than a demigod blessed with super healing, and moon powers granted by Elune?
¡°Who''s a good boy?¡± Varrus scratched under Omen''s chin.
¡°Ruff!¡± Omen cheerfully wagged his tail.
¡°Ahh, good, good!¡± Varrus cheerfully patted the dog on the head.
¡°So this is my replacement then? What an inglorious end to a millennia of service.¡± Rho''dan pulled up beside Varrus, and wiped some grime off his visor.
Varrus merely chuckled at the rugged, stoic man, and continued to play with his new dog.
¡°You may continue to protect me, but this animal will be great with the kids.¡± Varrus ruffled the cuties big floppy ears with a childish grin on his face. With Starbottle making advancements in the fertility potion, it would only be a matter of time until Varrus became a father¡
¡°Don''t remind me, that will be a headache and a half to manage. I barely watched your back from all those assassination plots conducted by your father''s enemies. How many did your wife want again?¡± Rho''dan stoically asked.
Varrus felt his eyelid twitch, and slumped his shoulder as he remained silent.
¡®Fucking 12!¡¯ Varrus side-eyed his suspiciously stoic guardian.
¡°I''ll remember this.¡± Varrus hissed.
¡°Sorry, Highlord, I don''t quite recall what I said to offend you?¡± Rho''dan apologized in a serious tone.
Varrus rubbed the bridge of his nose and sighed.
¡°Whatever. Let''s regroup with that suspicious Drsgon, and find that Xavius fucker. I''m so done with this Emerald Dream nonsense.¡± Varrus declared, then once again cast Clairvoyance to search out the notorious Satyr.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
AN: Read up to chapter 178 (30+ ch ahead) at:
Chapter 146
Whilst Varrus was searching after Xavius, the man in question was actively plotting as well.
Within a tall, twisted tower, the ¡®King of Nightmares¡¯ and his army, the Nightmare Host, were gathering to do battle.
Standing at a height of 9ft, the horned Satyr had grey skin, russ colored fur, and hooves for feet.
Twisted into this shape due to failing the mad Titan God Sargeras, this former Night Elf planned on merging the land of dreams with reality, so that all may warp to his vision of the truth. To lose the trappings of a demigod, and consume Azeroth so that he might become Divine.
Reclining on a twisted throne of tree bark and metal, Xavius was bathing in the outpouring negative thoughts coming from the mortal realm.
Hundreds of pink orbs buzzed in the tall ceiling and walls around him. Each tiny gemstone-no bigger than a fist-represented a dream. A portal into the world between worlds.
With the recent destruction of the Eastern Kingdoms, and the world wide floods caused by the destruction of Ice Crown, the dreams had become less vibrant, fun, or hopeful. Instead, negativity, dread, and fear haunted these untapped minds.
Xavius, with his capacity to enter, and manipulate dreams, stoked these fears, and manifested himself and his champions in their minds.
A name resonated through these fragile domiciles the people called brains.
Xavius.
Every minute spent sleeping, every scream in the night, every sleepwalking murder that took place simply shouted one name.
Xavius.
The more he appeared in their thoughts, the more real he became, the more powerful he was!
Pink energy flowed from the Dream Stones planted in the wall, and entered his veins acting like an aphrodisiac on his soul.
The Satyr then used this energy in a self feedback loop to create more of the pink Dream Stones, and enter more dreams, and influence their nightmares to his liking!
Perching his fist underneath his chin, Xavius could taste victory on the tip of his tongue.
All he needed to do was cross the valley that separated the lands of Nightmare, and devour the Aspect of Dreams. Yet those pests, Cenarius, Malfurion, and the Queen Mother of all Wisps, Aessina stood in his way.
Clenching his fist, Xavius stared at a conjured image of Malfurion, and ground his teeth so hard, he almost broke his jaw.
That blasted druid had been the architect of his demise ten thousand years ago, foiling his plans to bring the Legion onto Azeroth. As a result, he had been cursed into this ugly form.
Then, when he had made a resurgence, found a new master, and almost achieved his long sought after victory, the damned druid had cursed him!
Malfurion had transformed him, Xavius, King of Nightmares into a tree. An immobile piece of lumber tossed into the sea!
There, he had met a stunning woman within the depths of despair, one who came up with the plan to merge dream with reality. He learned what he could from her, then ditched the insane woman to conquer Azeroth on his own!
Yet here Malfurion was, present once again to foil his plans.
However, he just so happened to know that a feud was brewing between the druid, and the newest terror to grace Azeroth.
Oh yesss, Varrus Vandercross was quite the up and coming villain. Although he paled in comparison to the likes of Arthas or the Orcish Horde, the nightmares generated from his existence had been quite delectable.
Viewing the events of the Emerald Dream via scrying orb, Xavius saw that both of these dangerous men were searching him out. To preemptively slay him in his seat of power.
¡®No, no, no, no, no, we can''t have that, can we?¡¯ Xavius thought as he clucked his tongue, and shook his head with a grin.
Drumming his fingers on his throne, Xavius decided he should do them a favor, and reunite these two long lost foes.
¡°Scoff. Ransom. Toil.¡± Xavius spoke into the ether, and flexed a smidgen of his mana.
Exiting the Dream Stones, three Legendary Heroic minions of nightmare emerged. The sounds of screams and horror heralded their arrival.
First to arrive, Scoff was an oozing, misshapen, tentacled monstrosity. He had dozens of mouths filled with razor sharp teeth, eyes pointing in every direction, and tongues lewdly licking the air.
Most notable about Scoff was the incredible stench he exuded. A rusty-brown malaise wafted off his leathery exterior in a draft so potent, even Xavius, King of Nightmares found it to be repulsive.
¡°We are. Here to. Serve. You. Master.¡± Scoff wheezed like a man on his last breath as he spoke from his multiple mouths.
Xavius inclined his head, accepting the creature''s words, then awaited his remaining two servants.
Next to arrive was Ransom, she was a grey, quadruped whose legs were pointed like cones. Her body was similar to a deers, except at the neck, a large mass of twisting muscle made up a neck that was just as large as her body. At the tip of her neck, there were three branches that broke off to form three separate heads. Each face of hers swapped between her victims, faces lost from the mortal realm forevermore.
She was famed for conducting the forced trade of ears, eyes, noses, chins, lips, etc and gifting ugly-deformed-faces to the beautiful, or providing "unbelievable¡± experiences to desperate men who never knew love. Truly sickening.
¡°More faces to steal?¡±
¡°More expressions to wear!¡±
¡°More souls to consume!¡±
Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.
¡°More!¡± ¡°More!¡± ¡°More!¡±
Ransom excitedly crowed between all three of her heads, warping between different voices and distraught expressions as she did so.
Xavius rolled his eyes at her performance, but she was an asset he was loath to discard simply because she annoyed him.
Lastly, the strongest of Xavius''s three minions emerged from the shadows, and clung to them as if they were his long lost kin. Loafing around at back of the throne room, Toil''s presence was felt as if he were breathing on Xavius''s neck, yet his eyes told him that Toil was in the distance.
This abnormally tall and lanky man wore a fine black suit, white gentleman''s gloves, and had a perfectly blank head bereft of color or expression.
Toil bowed with his long, gangly limbs, saying nothing, and for all intents and purposes, appearing as nothing more than a proper sort.
Xavius snorted at the man.
When he first came across Toil, he had been stalked in the shadows for centuries. The damned creature had tried to smother him, and exhaust his patience over the course of three centuries. It wasn''t until he tricked the phantom into playing an extended game of hide and go seek that he finally managed to get him off his back.
Toil was the most dangerous simply for the fact that Xavius could not kill the troublesome man. Privately, he wondered if he had the prowess of a demigod, but he determined it was not worth the risk to press such an enigmatic individual.
With their powers combined, they could defeat a demigod 3v1. Furthermore, with the recent influx of negative waves, they were each only an infinitesimal distance away from being categorized as demigods themselves.
They were Xavius''s greatest champions, and would serve well to bait the do-gooder Malfurion straight into that meddling Varrus Vandercross''s path.
He had heard of Vandercross¡¯s accomplishments through the hopeful dreams of the bastard offshoot Elves that called themselves Highborn.
He knew how deadly this man was, and he would take no chances when dealing with him.
¡°Scoff, Ransom, Toil, go to the border, and taunt Malfurion. Bring him to the land of nightmare, bring him to Varrus Vandercross.¡± Xavius steepled his fingers, and commanded.
¡°Yes. King. Joy. Bring. To. Them.¡± Scoff wheezed in a dirty deep voice.
¡°New pretty faces?¡±
¡°A handsome Rho''dan!¡±
¡°Him?!¡¯
¡°Rho''dan!¡± ¡°Rho''dan!¡± ¡°Rho''dan!¡± The three heads cheered like school girls coming across a K-pop idol.
¡°....¡± Toil remained silent, and tipped an imaginary hat at Xavius before disappearing into the shadows.
As soon as everyone had left, Xavius continued to look into his scrying orb. His focus settled on a Green Dragon flying along with the pale skinned Elf.
Gulping to himself, Xavius felt a small tinge of fear when he saw she was flying closer to his domain.
¡°You are not my Queen. I will not marry you. I will not.¡± Xavius said with determination, then once more lost himself in the dreams of others in a desperate bid to collect as much ambient power as possible before his ultimate confrontation with Ysera, Aspect of Dreams.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Within the green sphere of the Emerald Dream, resting within a massive, splendorous temple Ysera, leader of the Green Dragonflight rested.
During her rest, the Aspect kept her eyes closed, for if she should ever open them, Ysera may bring untold calamity to both this realm and that of Azeroth.
However, her relaxation was short lived, as the loud voices of Malfurion, Cenarius, and other druids continuously debated circles around one another.
¡°The nature of balance dictates that corruption must coexist with cleanliness. You were quite uncharacteristically judicious in your planned extermination of the corrupted World Tree, Malfurion. Illidan''s demise has touched you deeper than you care to admit¡± Cenarius, the father of all Dryads and grandfather to the Centaur chided.
¡°The cleanliness of the soul dictates the actions of the body. My actions were in support of Azeroth. Ice Crown''s destruction required an equal and opposite reaction to achieve balance. I was that reaction.¡± Malfurion powerfully responded.
¡°Ah, Malfurion, but if you truly held such beliefs to be self-evident, then you would have cleansed the forests of Kalimdor long ago. You still have much to learn.¡± Cenarius shook his head in disappointment.
¡°Learning is a struggle I have tempered my entire life pursuing. It is times like these that inform me I have not learnt all there is to knowing. I thank you, great teacher.¡± Malfurion bowed.
¡°Any time my pupil. You have a bright future ahead of yourself. In time, I suspect this spiritual transformation shall enrich your soul beyond what you have surmised. Do not despair, Malfurion, you are on the correct path.¡±
On and on they spoke to one another for hours, rehashing the same talking points. It was absolutely driving Ysera onto the edge of madness!
¡®The name of their organization, the Cenarion Circle, is aptly named indeed.¡¯ Ysera thought to herself in some annoyance.
Eventually. Finally. The nonstop chatter had died down, and the duo had approached Ysera.
¡°Honored Aspect, I have learnt of intruders, and that they are colluding with the vile spawn, Varrus Vandercross. My mentor and I wish you safety as we set out to confront them.¡± Malfurion bowed to her, and then departed.
Ysera raised an eyebrow.
When she had listened to Malfurion''s plea, and saved his soul earlier, she had no idea she would accidentally drag along the man that had been so often dominating her dreams as of late.
Varrus Vandercross.
He was a polarizing, charismatic, handsome figure.
His actions had invigorated hope in so many, the power of their dreams had boosted her up so that she might compete with Xavius for dominion of this realm.
In truth, she hoped Varrus emerged the victor of this conflict.
For tens of thousands of years, she had had to put up with Cenarius''s constant theories. When none of her children took his lectures seriously, he had found several new races on Azeroth to annoy.
Before long, the Emerald Dream began to play host to countless philosophers discussing the fundamentals on nature, balance, and the universe.
It was fun. For a time. But oh how they bored Ysera. It came to become such a hassle, she often closed herself off from the world, and lost herself in other people''s dreams so she wouldn''t have to listen to their diatribe!
Not only that, but they were all talk!
If the druids combined their powers, the entire world would be a green paradise where no one ever went hungry.
But instead, they never took action!
It was so frustrating, that she hoped and prayed that Varrus won. She was done blindly siding with the forces of nature, or following the directives of long dead Gods.
Nozdormu had followed that path, and what did he have to show for it?
While she was saddened by his loss, he was so determined to follow the ¡®proper¡¯ timeline, he failed to see the reality of the world.
As someone who was connected to everyone via their dreams, she played witness to their hopes, their sorrows, and their fears.
It was with this knowledge that she knew the world needed change.
Change that only Varrus could bring.
¡°Prepare yourself young one, enemies march against you.¡± Ysera whispered through the air, carrying her words to the Elf. At the same time, she sacrificed a sliver of herself to bless the young one, and show her sincerity in aiding his success.
Warning sent, Ysera prepared herself for her upcoming clash with Xavius.
The Satyr was desperate for victory, and had grown reckless in his actions. His very understandable fear of the Burning Bride had pushed him into an untenable position.
All Ysera had to do was remain patient, and victory would surely be hers.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
AN: Read up to chapter 178 at:
Chapter 147
Whilst following the path laid out by Clairvoyance towards Xavius, Varrus was bonding with his brand new demigod golden retriever.
Hovering a few feet off the ground, Varrus was sitting on his flying carpet, rubbing Omen on the head, and scratching under his chin.
¡°Who''s a good boy?¡± Tekai praised the ¡®Wild God¡¯ spirit.
¡°Ruff!¡± Omen thumped his tail in happiness, and ran a circle around Varrus.
¡°Fetch!¡± Tekai tossed out an orb of light out into the distance.
Omen gigantified himself to the size of a mini skyscraper, and eagerly ran through hundreds of diseased, and twisted nightmarish trees, chasing after the light.
The works of horror tried to clutch at Omen''s feet, and ensnare him, but the beast was too strong, and charged through them like they were made of styrofoam.
Wood cracked, and other nightmare creatures were blasted into smithereens as Omen bounded forward.
¡°Omen, come back boy!¡± Varrus cupped his hands, and called Omen back once he had ran a few dozen miles in what had only been seconds.
The corridor of destruction the blonde furred canine had wrought was significant.
An entire area the width of a football field had been pressed flat.
Omen came up to Varrus, and was slobbering all over the place. His saliva was a healing salve, and acted counter to this corrupted part of the Emerald Dream. Literal flowers emerged from where his spit landed, and the rot receded.
¡°Ha ha ha ha.¡± Omen panted as he came to Varrus''s side, shrank himself, and jumped into Varrus''s arms.
¡°Heh, Omen, use Starfall attack!¡± Varrus scratched Omen on the head, then pointed out toward the flattened earth, and commanded the dog as if he were a Pok¨¦mon.
¡°Awoo!¡± Omen howled, then began to glow white.
Seconds later, great big balls of pale plasma fell from the sky, and started to incinerate all of the other evil overgrowth that was to the sides.
¡°You are having much too much fun with this dog.¡± Rho''dan said from the side in a cautionary tone.
¡°You¡¯re damn right I am, Rho''dan! No need to be jealous though, you''ll always have a special place in the pecking order.¡± Varrus reassured Rho''dan with a mock smile.
¡°Oh, I''m secure in my role within House Vandercross. I was simply wondering if showing such affection to anyone or anything other than Lady Vandercross would earn the Lady''s eternal ire.¡± Rho''dan said in a completely level tone.
¡°Amateurish, Rho''dan, simply amateurish. You''ll have to do more than that next time. Besides, Omen will act as the perfect playmate for our children. The woman wants twelve Rho''dan, twelve. You can hardly manage me, much less twelve of mine and my wife''s spawn. A new trustworthy companion will come in handy, don''t you think?¡± Varrus directed a wide grin at Rho''dan as if to say ¡®please bitch, you''re not sweet out here.¡¯
¡°Hmm, as you say, Highlord. As you say. Omen is a fine addition to House Vandercross. However, it seems during your enthusiasm to train your new pet, Merithra has left the party.¡± Rho''dan said in a deadpan.
¡°Ah, your future lover #2 is gone? Well that''s not so surprising considering she was being chased by Omen here. I''m sure we''ll see her again in the near future.¡± Varrus shrugged his shoulders, and said dismissively.
¡°Do not remind me. I am cross still cross that you flaunt me everytime we travel to Gilneas.¡± Rho''dan rubbed the bridge of his nose in consternation.
¡°Tess is a sweet little thing with great potential. Mark my words, her abilities in the Void will see her sneak under your covers one day.¡± Varrus said, bemused.
¡°...¡± Rho''dan steadfastly remained silent as he stared ahead.
Varrus chuckled, and elbowed his stalwart guard in the side. ¡°Or perhaps you could be the one teaching a thing or two? For someone so big, your capabilities of going places unnoticed are remarkable.¡± Varrus winked.
¡°...I have already instructed Queen Greymane on the finer intricacies of stealth. It is as you say, she has much potential. It would not surprise me if she surpassed most Heroes-myself included-that reside within Quel''Thalas. Therefore, it is my estimate that as an ally, and future powerhouse, it is inappropriate for you to be soliciting my services to another House. I humbly submit my intent to protest.¡± Rho''dan said whilst gazing out into nothing.
¡°If you really feel that strongly about it, I won''t press anymore. We got what we needed from Gilneas anyway. All I''m saying is you could use some down time, and Tess is a vulnerable girl who could use a strong man like you. I may be having fun pulling your leg, Rho''dan, but I do worry about you and your happiness.¡± Varrus dropped the jokester persona for a minute, and addressed Rho''dan man to man.
¡°Thank you for your concern, Highlord, but my loyalty is to House Vandercross. I served your father faithfully for thousands of years, and have been tempted by much greater vices. I appreciate your candour. Tess is a pretty young girl, but I prefer mature women.¡± Rho''dan calmly and confidently replied.
If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
¡°Well the Green Dragonflight existed before Quel''Thalas, so if it''s a mature woman you''re looking for¡¡± Varrus wildly gestured out into the Emerald Dream.
However, all there was, was corrupted landscape, as far as the eye could see.
Varrus swore he felt a gust of wind pass by at that moment, as if the realm were mocking him.
Even Rho''dan-his most faithful soldier-raised an eyebrow, and stared at Varrus as if to say ¡®bitch, are you serious?¡¯
¡°Ah ha, right. Well, I''ll only use the threat of your handsomeness going forward. For House Vandercross!¡± Varrus loudly cheered.
Varrus curled an eyebrow in response, awaiting the expected reply.
¡°....For House Vandercross.¡± Rho''dan eventually replied, sounding morose, as if he had just left from a bad experience from the dentist.
¡°Atta boy.¡± Varrus slapped Rho''dan on the shoulder with gusto.
Rho''dan silently nodded his head in response, and continuously consulted his scrying orb, seemingly more interested in scouting the terrain than humoring Varrus''s nonsense anymore. He not only acted as his friend, and close confidant, but was actively searching the area around them for any hidden dangers like the pro guard that he was.
Varrus was happy to let him work, and continued training Omen.
While he did so, he thought about that Green Dragon, Merithra.
A woman with that kind of crazy wouldn''t be staying away for long. She had Rho''dan in mind, and who was he to step in between another honeypot scheme?
It was funny, in the films, it was always some hot girl seducing all the officers, or a knight or whatever to gain access to the enemy files. But Varrus found that using a tall rugged macho elf worked just as well when it came to plying the ladies.
Shaking his head, Varrus chuckled to himself as he saw Omen bulldoze his way through another set of trees, then run his way back to him.
This dog was low-key, really starting to grow on him.
Omen had insane regenerative abilities akin to Zul¡¯Jin, his saliva could be made into a healing potion, he was legitimately the physically strongest fighter in all of Quel''Thalas, could call down a massive AOE storm of moon powered energy, and he was an adorable loyal boy.
Hell, Varrus was semi-curious to learn if Omen''s shit was a super fertilizer, or if his incredibly soft fur had some function he was unaware of.
In short, Omen was an absolute beast, and it was a miracle he had won in the first place. If he went head on with the mutt without any nerfs, it would be a hard fight to be certain. One that would require some serious kiting.
At the end of the day though, subterfuge had seen him through like it always had.
¡°Ruff!¡± Omen wagged his tail, and Varrus responded with another head scratch.
Kael could keep his phoenix companion, Al''ar. Omen was where it was at!
¡°Ruff!¡± This time Omen was more insistant, more cautioned.
The dog''s fur had raised itself into a hackle, and he had pointed his nose off in a direction aggressively.
A beat later, Rho''dan spoke up from the side, his entire focus was on the scrying orb as he started to report.
¡°Sir! We have incoming from our 2 o''clock! Malfurion, and a horse bodied Night Elf are chasing after two monstrosities. They are heading right for us!¡± Rho''dan spoke in a hurried tone.
¡°So the demigod Cenarius has joined forces against us, huh? Let me see.¡± Varrus said.
Leaning forward, Varrus got a good look at the image on Rho''dan''s orb.
Like looking on a monitor of Google Street View, Varrus had a 3D view of the situation.
¡®Scrying is some bullshit. I really should learn some anti-scrying spells sometime, but invisibility seems to counter scrying too, hm, something to do another day.¡¯ Varrus thought to himself as he watched a crisp image of the druids chasing after the nightmare beasts.
¡°Based on their distance and rate of movement, I estimate their arrival to be within 10 to 15 minutes.¡± Rho''dan said, stroking his red goatee in thought.
¡°Good man. It seems that those monsters are trying to use us. Well I say to hell with that.¡±
Just because his other trees of magic were nerfed, didn''t mean he couldn''t create a ruckus.
Casting Forbidden Sun, Volcano, Blizzard, Apocalypse, and a half dozen other massive AOE destruction spells, the surrounding land became an elemental hellscape. Where the Emerald Dream was typically either in a state of bountiful vegetation, or corrupted nightmare, it now had a taste of the utter destruction that was the Varrus Vandercross experience.
Volcanoes belched lava, snowstorms blanketed and froze every lifeform, cyclones tore apart the sky, and dual orbs of fire & ice ripped the realm apart.
Thousands of Acceleration Runes were pasted in a condensed space, and many more traps had been set up.
Although all this magic only hit with the strength of a low-tier Hero, Varrus''s infinite mana meant that these abilities could be spammed again and again, creating a vast scenery of chaotic destruction.
Upon setting the stage, Varrus turned to Rho''dan & Omen with a diabolical grin on his face.
¡°Rho''dan, slip on your ring of invisibility, these Emerald Dream assholes don''t know who they messed with.¡± Varrus grinned, then took out a necklace enchanted with invisibility from his inventory, and placed it on Omen''s neck.
He then cast Shroudwalk on himself, disappearing both himself and his flying carpet from sight.
¡°Ruff!¡¯ Omen sniffed the air, but was surprised when he couldn''t get a lock on Varrus.
However, Varrus was quick to reassure Omen through the bond they shared.
Through their connection via the Speak With Animals perk, Varrus could feel the position of his invisible doggo, and even found he could give simple commands without having to say anything.
¡°Ah ruff!¡± Omen happily barked upon the reassurance, and Varrus began to feel a draft of air as the invisible doggos tail was wagging a bit on the fast side.
¡°Where do you need me, Highlord?¡± Rho''dan questioned.
¡°Just sit back and watch the show my good man. In fact, retreat just a bit, I wouldn''t want to get you caught up in the crossfire.¡± Varrus felt his smile widen.
No one could see his expression because he was invisible, but Malfy would see it soon enough!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
AN: Read over 25+ chapters in advance at:
Chapter 148
(Malfurion POV)
Chasing after the pair of nightmare creatures, Malfurion rode upon his spirit stag, and was followed by the father of nature, Cenarius.
¡°Young Stormrage, is it not enough for us to simply slay these minions of Xavius, and return to the keep?¡± Cenarius questioned.
¡°I am afraid not, honored teacher. The creatures have taunted us, and are leading us into an obvious ambush. One where my intuition is telling me Varrus Vandercross awaits.¡± Malfurion steadily replied.
¡°This obsession is dangerous, Malfurion. Should we fall here, Ysera will be left practically defenseless. Ripe for Xavius''s plundering. Are you certain in your actions? Do you have the confidence that we can lay low the man who slew you in the first place?¡± Cenarius placed a hand on Malfurion''s shoulder, and said with concern.
¡°He has not adapted to the Emerald Dream as we have. His magic and body are still attuned to the material world. Any weapon he wields, or spell he casts shall be a fraction of the power with which he displayed on Azeroth.¡± Malfurion replied in a confident tone.
¡°It is as you say, young one. Yet what then, gives him the confidence to ambush us so? Xavius must know that should we destroy his ally, and his minions, Ysera shall hold the upper hand, and we shall cast the Satyr to wind.¡± Cenarius spoke in a concerned, yet threatening manner.
¡°Confidence? More like the arrogance of youth. I saw it in his eyes, honored teacher. The boy has been acting according to what is in front of him, never reaching deeper, never exploiting that which careful thought and proper planning could achieve.¡± Malfurion chided as if he were speaking about a student who he knew was intelligent, but never once paid attention to the subject material, and coasted by on C''s.
¡°Ah. So you say he is seeing the forest for the trees, hmm? Yes, the youth of today have no respect for patience or decorum. I look forward to meeting this Vandercross fellow. Perhaps he is worthy of reformation and redemption.¡± Cenarius mused.
¡°...perhaps. But that is something to consider once we have defeated the boy, and stand over his shattered form. To make something beautiful, it must be shattered first.¡± Malfurion said with a vengeance, and clasped his staff tightly.
¡°Agreed, I shared such sentiments with you when you first meditated outside of my garden for a century before I was willing to teach you the secrets of nature. Your pride had to be broken before you were willing to learn. If only Illidan had been as diligent as you.¡± Cenarius clucked his tongue, and said in sorrow at what could have been.
¡°My brother has paid for his arrogance, now we shall visit a similar lesson upon this youth. Behold his folly.¡± Malfurion gestured before them.
After they had been running for some time, they finally entered the nightmare section of the Emerald Dream, and they spotted all of Varrus''s multiple elemental attacks suffusing the sky, ground and everywhere in between.
¡°Certainly this is impressive. The sheer number of spells clouding the surroundings makes detecting anything difficult due to the sheer amount of mana coursing through the atmosphere.¡± Cenarius praised as if he were grading a paper.
¡°It is without form or substance. Pure chaos without thought. The fire and ice are thawing one another, creating harmless water to spill everywhere.¡¯ Malfurion clucked his tongue in disappointment.
¡°Hrm, it is so. Yes, I can feel the power thrumming from this magic. It is impressive. For a low level Hero, however, it is nothing when compared to us. You had to fight this at full power akin to a demigod though, correct?¡± Cenarius arched an eyebrow in question.
¡°That and more. Vandercross is an elusive one with many tricks. Keep up your guard.¡± Malfurion replied as he scanned the area in search of the boy.
¡°Ah, there is the praise I was looking for. I had feared that you, Malfurion, had grown arrogant in your quest for revenge. This is good to hear.¡± Cenarius chuckled good naturedly.
¡°Yes, I think he is lurking invisibly nearby. He has a sinister ability that can be unleashed, but only when he touches you. I suspect he plans on distracting us with these brightly colored spells, and intends to stab us in the back whilst we deal with this pair of nightmare creatures.¡± Malfurion shared with his friend his analysis.
¡°And we cannot sense him either in this environment. Ordinarily, we would consult the roots, or hear the whisper of the wind when searching for an invisible target. However, since the land is corrupted, we have no recourse. Are you so sure of his inability to plan ahead, my student?¡± Cenarius once again chuckled in amusement.
¡°...our course is clear, we must destroy these nightmare creatures, the minions known as Scoff & Ransom, and then draw out the snake from his hole.¡± Malfurion said in a tone that brokered no refusal.
The massive Night Elf then transformed himself into a snarling bear, and charged at the nearest nightmare creature, a being with three heads.
Malfurion let loose a roar that vibrated the air. The sonic attack tore up branches, and destroyed a nearby volcano into nothing more than ash, and cooled its lava.
As the shockwave made contact with Ransom, the tri-headed monster let loose a sonic screech of its own.
A pale-purple wave left its three mouths, and collided with Malfurion¡¯s attack.
Neither one gained supremacy over the other, yet the pale-purple screech carried with it the additional unidentifiable ¡®element¡¯ of nightmare.
This conceptual idea reinforced Ransom''s attack, and perverted Malfurion¡¯s roar into the Night Elve''s worst nightmare.
Instead of being a great sonic, bear''s roar, his attack transformed into a harmless duck''s quack!
Ransom''s screech then broke through this quack as if it were nothing, and continued towards the mighty bear.
The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
¡°The hope of dreams outweighs the fear of any nightmare.¡± Malfurion growled.
Conjuring up his love and devotion for Tyrande, Malfurion clasped his hands together, and created a light blue orb.
¡°Let the light of devotion cast you out, nightmare!¡± Malfurion grandly said, and held the ball above his head.
Ransom shot out a tri-beam attack of fire, lightning and ice from each mouth, in an effort to reinforce its screech, and break Malfurion''s concentration.
Flexing his knowledge of the Emerald Dream, Malfurion conjured two more additional orbs as he pushed forth his hopes and dreams for his people, and even that of the soul of his younger brother.
The orbs grew in size, and ate away at the nightmare landscape, growing more powerful as they devoured the surrounding corruption.
The wave of sonic pale-purple collided with these orbs, and disappeared as if it were nothing more substantial than a fart.
Soon after, the tri-beam elemental attack tried to destroy the orbs. A massive collision of energy took place, and when it appeared the orbs would break and explode, Malfurion closed his eyes, and fell asleep!
In his dream state, Malfurion channeled even more power into the orbs, and allowed them to resist the elemental energies.
The Night Elf druid then directed these three menacing blue balls towards Ransom, who at this point, had started to flee once more.
¡°There is no escape, creature.¡± Malfurion¡¯s voice boomed from one of the orbs.
In response, Ransom conjured up three perfect illusions from each face.
¡°Malfurion, my love, please!¡± One of the heads transformed into Tyrande''s face, and begged.
¡°Brother, I am gone. The Demons have my soul, I need your help!¡± Illidan''s form appeared on another.
¡°You failed me. I grew to protect all life¡and you killed me.¡± The spirit of Nordrassil, the greatest World Tree cried.
Malfurion paused in his attack as he felt as if his world was being crushed.
He was familiar with this minion of Xavius''s. He knew that the only things it could mimic were those faces it had stolen, or it could mimic the ghosts of the dead.
¡°Tyrande!¡± Malfurion screamed in shocked sorrow.
His orbs, powered by the hopes of his dreams, began to falter.
The sinister laughter of all three of Ransom''s heads in the background seemed to be like a spell that sealed the doom of Malfurion''s fate.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Meanwhile, at the outset of the fight, Cenarius had squared off against Scoff, the ooze of many eyes and mouths.
Cenarius chuckled once more as an oozing creature that stank to high heaven began to lob putrid gunk shots at him.
Swiping his hands, a trio of green nature attuned crescents spawned in, and tore the gunk into pieces. The magic attack continued on its trajectory, and impacted the ooze. However, the ooze absorbed the green crescents as if they were nothing. The only indication that it had been struck was that it jiggled from side to side.
¡®Interesting.¡¯ Cenarius thought to himself.
Scoff ever so slowly slithered his way towards Cenarius, yet he wasn''t fooled by this creature''s seeming sloth. They had been chasing after the duo of nightmares at high speeds. Truly the youth of today lacked higher thought.
Conjuring several roots from the ground, Cenarius smiled once the disgusting creature slipped through their grasp.
Changing the nature of his spell, Cenarius had the roots begin to sup up the slime as if it were a nutrient from the soil.
¡°Ha. Ah ha. You hold no power here. Cenarius!¡± The many mouths mocked.
¡°Hoh?¡± Cenarius replied, and twisted his finger as he modified his spell.
The decaying roots suddenly reversed their situation by sprouting flowers.
Bright yellow and orange patterned petals absorbed the foul energy, and released it as purified pollen into the air.
Mindful of a potential invisible opponent lurking nearby, Cenarius coated his surroundings with the tiny microbes, so that he could spot the enemy that had befouled Malfurion into such a revenge seeking state.
Cenarius was quite worried about his student. Hopefully victory here would strengthen his spirit, and they could finally put Xavius to rest.
Whilst Cenarius was thinking, Scoff was howling in despair as his ooze was constantly being sucked up, and dispersed to clean the environment.
¡°What. Are. You?!¡± Scoff repeatedly cried in despair.
The ooze tried to explode with a powerful stench in one last bid to escape, yet the pollen in the air clustered around him, and dried him up like a sponge gliding across a wet pan.
¡°Nature''s Blessing upon you.¡± Cenarius bowed his head at the creature.
Scoff began to dry out, and crack, before ultimately turning into dust.
Cenarius eyed the being dispassionately. If only all such nightmares were so easy to banish.
Shaking his head, he turned to see how his student was dealing with the enemy.
All seemed to be in order, however¡
¡°Tyrande!!!¡± The pained howl shook the very foundations of the Emerald Dream.
The blue orbs that represented Malfurion''s hopes and dreams were crumbling, and were on the verge of collapse.
Ransom screeched in glee, and began to bombard Malfurion''s sleeping form. If this carried on for a minute longer, he would be dead!
Cenarius was about to aid his long-time student, when suddenly, the blue orbs turned orange and were colored with an aura of nightmarish corruption.
¡°Malfurion, no!¡± Cenarius held out his hand in shock, and stopped just as he had reached Malfurion''s side.
The first druid rose from his slumber, a crimson light shining in his eyes, and a power of despair radiated from his form.
¡°A world without her is not one worth living, Cenarius. I am sorry, old friend.¡± Malfurion said slowly, then pierced his hand through Cenarius''s chest.
Cenarius tried to pull back and resist, but he felt all his life force drain into his student, and his vision darken.
¡°STORMRAGE.¡± Malfurion cried out, and all hell broke loose as a lightning storm that stretched the entire realm exploded into existence.
The world trembled, and cried out in shock as a new star was born.
Azeroth felt the tremors of the dream world, and wept. A thousand thousand clouds spread across the sky, and poured rain across the planet.
Malfurion Stormrage, the incorruptible Champion of Nature had fallen. In his place stood a new Champion of Nightmare.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
AN: Read up to chapter 182 at:
Chapter 149
Varrus watched Malfurion transform from a relatively mild tempered, peaceful big man into raging psychopath with mild shock.
In the original timeline, Malfurion had fallen to corruption at least once, and was always lost in his dreams.
So the current state of events wasn''t all that surprising.
However, there was a slight predicament that Varrus found himself in.
That madlad Malfurion had shouted his own last name as if he were some sort of Pok¨¦mon, and it worked.
Currently the entire fucking stratosphere was bathed in a never ending pool of lightning!
Literally every second, bright purple beams of lighting about as thick as your average chair were striking the ground one after another seemingly at random.
All the while, Malfurion was floating in the sky, looking down like some regal emperor that had found enlightenment.
An orb of electricity surrounded him, and vaporized any miscellaneous debris that flew in his direction. It was an ability like something straight out of X-Men, and heavily resembled Magneto''s method of flight.
Honestly, Varrus would be impressed by Malfurion''s current show of force if he wasn''t busy piloting his flying carpet to dodge every bolt of lightning like he was a fighter jet being chased down by missiles.
¡®This shit has gone one long enough.¡¯ Varrus internally snarled to himself.
With Malfurion just kind of floating in place, he presented himself as an open target. But besides the shield protecting him, there was one other compilation. The concentration of lightning strikes was especially potent, and more frequent the closer Varrus got to the druid.
If he just flew at Malfurion all willy-nilly, he was sure to catch a stray hit, thus nullifying his element of surprise.
He had thought about maybe using Clear Sky to dismiss the storm, then kite away as he regained invisibility, or maybe even fly as close as he could, then use the Shout, Become Ethereal so that he could bypass the shield, and strike at Malfurion directly.
However, both of these methods carried some risk with them.
Clear Sky was out, because there was no guarantee he could remain hidden once Malfurion got a general idea of his position. It wasn''t as if he could go invisible, then Blink away either. The Blink spell made a lot of noise, and was easy to identify.
Whereas Become Ethereal had already been seen by Malfurion before, and he would likely be on guard for when Varrus left that unhittable state. If Varrus were to use Become Ethereal, he would rather use it from a distance, to dodge an attack, or from within arms length.
Between the density of the storm, and the orb, it would take Varrus perhaps 10 seconds to close the distance with Malfurion, and while that might not seem like a lot of time it actually was when both of them moved at speeds incomprehensible to mortal men.
There were maybe a few more options to solving this conundrum that involved brute force, but he was severely limited in his options thanks to the Emerald Dream nerfing all spells other than Illusion, as well as any physical damage.
In the end, he would be resorting to his favorite method to achieve victory.
Subterfuge.
¡®Well, perhaps subterfuge, and a cocktail of overwhelming force.¡¯ Varrus thought to himself with a smirk as he recalled he had an invisible demigod doggo on his side.
He would be sorely remiss not to utilize such a weapon in this fight!
Flying down to Omen-who was dodging around the lightning rather admirably-Varrus mounted up on his back.
Driving the faithful mutt across some scorched, blackened terrain, Varrus found the spot where he had prepared hundreds-if not thousands-of Acceleration Runes.
¡°Alright buddy. On my mark, run into that pile of brightly lit circles, transform to be as big as you can be, and run at that glowing purple asshole!¡± Varrus whispered.
¡°ruff¡± Omen very quietly barked back.
Varrus took a deep breath, and prepared himself for one hell of a wild ride, and then busted out a spell he hadn''t used since his assault upon the Sunwell so many months ago.
It was Thundering Hooves.
Thundering Hooves: For 1 hr, your mount is X% faster, regenerates Stamina and can swim upwards to run on water. Nearby allies riding a mount within 30 feet also benefit.
That X% was much weaker than he would have liked due to the debuffs, however, the Alteration Mastery perk slightly offset the decrease, and that X% was sitting at a cool 50% net increase!
Upon casting the spell, an aura only visible to Varrus coated his invisible hound, greatly enhancing his potential velocity.
Whilst he was at it, Varrus applied the various suite of Illusion buffs to Omen, as well as a shroud of Muffle, to deafen his footsteps. They were almost all set to launch an all out assault!
In an ideal world, Varrus would just send Omen as a one act wrecking ball show. However, for Thundering Hooves to take effect, he had to personally be mounted.
Making peace with his maker, Varrus tightly gripped a handful of hair, and prepared himself for the ride of a lifetime.
¡°Okay, Omen, get!¡± Varrus harshly whispered his command.
Omen moved before Varrus even finished speaking, and hurled himself forward.
The second they hit the Acceleration Runes, there was a jolt, and the world blurred.
Varrus''s eyes watered, and he felt warm dog saliva splatter across his face.
There was the slight sound of buzzing, like a fly killing itself on an electric lantern, the woosh of air, then nothing.
Blinking his eyes, and casting a cleanse spell, Varrus tried to find sight of Malfurion, but couldn''t tell what the hell had gone on.
Looking around himself, his surroundings were all green.
They had overshot their target!
Not only that, but they had left a trail of destruction so vast, it was as if an E-5 tornado had passed through the Emerald Dream in a straight line!
If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
Varrus facepalmed his forehead.
He could only hope Malfurion was nothing more than a greasy smear at the moment.
¡°Okay, round two, let''s go again, Omen!¡± Varrus commanded his faithful hound, and patted him on the back.
This time, before they head out, he Shouted Clear Skies, as well as Slow Time, so that he could get a better view of what was going on.
¡°Arf arf!¡± Omen nodded his head, and growled in agreement.
Before they headed out, however, Varrus had to determine which way they had to go to find Malfurion. He was going to cast Clairvoyance, but he saw that there was no need.
The path of destruction they had created upon entry would serve as their guiding beacon!
However, said destruction was a sobering sight, and proved to be a cautionary tale.
Because the areas that had been scorched by Malfurion''s turbo lightning storm, and Varrus''s super speedy doggo began to tear at the fabric of the realm! Some of the ¡®stitching¡¯ that held the dream together began to collapse, and Varrus played witness to an area of forest the size of a city block fall into that endless white void. It didn''t float in this void, like an object launched into space. No! It defied all logic, and disappeared like a pens ink being covered in white-out!
The grim sight unnerved Varrus, yet he decided to once more place such horrifying thoughts behind himself, as he had a mission to complete.
Although he would have lost the element of surprise upon his return, he figured such a short amount of time had passed, that if he regrouped, and charged again, he might still have a chance to turn the Stormrage into a pancake.
Worst came to worst, he could always jump off Omen, and let the demigod dog duke it out with the mad druid, and lurk nearby looking for an opening.
Plan made, Varrus rubbed Omen''s fur for good luck.
¡°Let''s get him, Omen!¡± Varrus pressed on the doggo''s back, and urged him forward.
A second later, they were off.
This time, with the aid of Slow Time-and a lack of Acceleration Runes-Varrus had a better time observing his surroundings as he made his way back to his original position.
On route, he saw that Malfurion had been busy, and was constructing several hundreds of nasty, pustulent trees, and other disgusting weeping willows.
Acidic liquid, and gaseous jets of acid sprayed at them, and covered the landscape in a ¡®random¡¯ pattern.
Yet Varrus noticed that the massive swamp of decay that Malfurion was constructing seemed to be designed to slow and hamper.
No, it was built to box them in, this was a trap!
Upon realizing this. Varrus didn''t panic or retreat. He decided to go all in!
¡°Omen, use Starfall!¡± Varrus ordered.
At the same time, he slapped down an Acceleration Rune underneath the dog¡¯s paws.
Within seconds, giant orbs of pale plasma dropped from the sky, and began to shatter Malfurion''s carefully crafted stage.
Whatever performance the druid had planned on putting on, Varrus determined he would outshine him in every way!
As the swamp sizzled, and melted away under the Strarfury¡¯s wrath, and Omen blitzed forward, the various broken trees and branches easily demarcated which path Omen was taking, making it easy for Malfurion to get a lock on their position.
Even though they were invisible, Malfutron sent out a mega swarm of gnats, spiders, centipedes, and other creepy crawlies.
Millions of insects clogged the sky, such that the world almost turned black with darkness.
Unable to destroy them all with his nerfed Destruction & Restoration spells, Varrus opted for the spell: Evil Twin.
Evil Twin: While concentrating, manifests illusions of nearby enemies to attack them. Illusions take extra damage from attacks.
All at once, the already clogged sky became awash with an amazing buzz.
The millions upon millions of insects made such a cacophony, it felt as if he had an extreme bout of tinnitus,
While he did this, Omen began to whine, as if signaling something was wrong.
However, Varrus didn''t have much time to pay attention to him, as they closed the distance at an ever increasing pace, and would collide with Malfurion in less than 3 seconds!
All he could think of was the disgusting gallons worth of bug guts that had splattered against his Ebony Armor, and of where he might Blink should things go south.
It was during this thought process that they ran over Malfurion like a steamroller.
To Varrus''s surprise, not only did the druid refuse to dodge, but he didn''t put up any resistance!
Frowning, to himself, he peered down where there should be a corpse, and noticed something spectacular.
There was no Soul Gel collection.
¡°Surprise~¡± Malfurion''s voice sounded in Varrus''s ear.
A millisecond later, Stormrage became a mass of pure electricity, and shoved his clawed hand through Varrus''s back, and out his chest. The arm then curled upward, and Malfurion¡¯s large purple hand wrapped itself entirely around Varrus''s face, and sharpened nails pierced his eyes and cheek bones.
Constant arcs of lightning shocked Varrus, draining him of his mana and hp, forcing his body to convulse and vomit blood.
Pain like no other flooded his system, and Varrus saw spots in his vision as the vast quantities of plasma and light penetrated his everything.
He couldn''t think. He couldn''t breathe. There was nothing.
If his health ticked to zero too quickly, or had his body atomized, he was dead.
No perks could save him. None of his healing abilities, or the perk that teleported him out when his hp lowered to 15% would activate if he suddenly dropped from 40% to 0%!
¡°I believe the mystics refer to this as deja vu.¡± Malfurion cackled as his other hand carved cursed runes into Varrus''s flesh, sending searing agony into his very soul.
Varrus convulsed as Warriors Flame, Sacred Guardian, and Enduring Ideal all passively healed him, staving off death, yet perpetuating his agony.
Malfurion laughed mockingly at his torment, and held Varrus up in triumph, as if he were some banner to be displayed. That Varrus was a symbol of all those who stood against the might of Stormrage!
Continuing with his torture, Stormrage''s nails repeatedly plucked Varrus''s eyeballs out, he then waited a moment for them to heal, and did so once again.
Throughout all this suffering, Varrus was trying to muster up the will to activate Time Phase, or Become Ethereal, yet he had ended up being saved by Omen before he could engineer his own escape.
¡°Awoo! Awoo! AWWOOOOOOO!!!¡± Omen cried three times.
Each cry more desperate than the last as he tried to expunge the mana deep within his being at the expense of his own power. Each cried, desperate howl saw him shrink in size by a fraction. His boundless energy and positivity served as a sacrifice for a miracle.
The doggo''s fur lit up with a pale white glow, one that was anathema to corruptive forces, and galvanized healing. The hairs struck at Malfurion trying to tie him down, and sizzled his skin, deeply wounding him in the process.
Malfurion snarled, and hurled Varrus deep into the mud and slog of the disgusting corrupted swamp. Fresh scars and burns laced his skin, yet he seemed to relish in the sensation.
Jumping down off the now normal sized dog, Malfurion kicked Omen in the side once, twice, three times for every howl that the dog had given for his master. Varrus heard the sickening crack of ribs, and saw Omen whimper. His doggo was unable to rise as he had given all his strength for Varrus, and his healing factor had stalled.
Clenching his fists, Varrus glared murderously at the former icon of nature. Light energy suffused him, and healed Varrus of his wounds as he slowly rose to his knees.
¡°Get up. Get up, boy. I''m not done with you. We''ve got a thing back home that a deformed whelp like you wouldn''t be familiar with.
It''s called a blood debt, and I haven''t even begun to collect on the interest.¡± Malfurion taunted.
Never before had Varrus ever wanted someone to die as much as he did now.
Lip trembling, and face twitching like a beast, Varrus said not one word as he slowly rose to his full height. Staring the grinning Night Elf in the eye, Varrus''s face was like stone as he brought the full might of Commanding Presence down to bear.
The Emerald Dream shook as his will clashed with Stormrage''s.
Seams began to tear the realm asunder, and the white void eagerly gobbled up the pieces.
The clash between the two titans of Elven-kind had come to a head!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
AN: Read 30+ chapters ahead at:
Chapter 150
As the pair of Elves stood there posturing, the realm of the Emerald Dream wavered and shook as if it were undergoing a constant magnitude 9 earthquake.
The fabric of reality started to morph and combine, then tear itself apart. Trees that looked like they were low resolution suddenly came to life as monsters, then blew up into tiny particles as if they never existed.
To the inhabitants of the dream, the land felt like it was a piece of paper adrift on the wind, tilting sideways, diagonally, and in every which direction.
The clash of wills, and the power of Varrus''s enhanced Illusion perks, and the status condition imposed by the Emerald Dream elevated him above his natural state.
[Emerald Dream: All magic/physical damage-except Illusion-decreased effectiveness by 100%. Illusion magic increased effectiveness by 150%.]
Imposing Presence boosted the effectiveness of Illusion spells by a further 25%, and Illusion Mastery boosted the power of his spells for every point he had in the Illusion tree. That was a 100% increase.
In total, he had a 275% increase in Illusion modifiers on top of the enchanted gear''s spell power, which was what propelled him into the realm of demigods in the first place.
As a result, the pressure he exuded when applying Commanding/Imposing Presence upon the land was nothing short of extraordinary.
Animals, insects, even the plants and other foliage reacted to him, and bowed in his direction.
Malfurion snarled as he tried to counter Varrus''s impact. Three bright orange orbs surrounded him, and span around at high speeds.
Just by looking at them, Varrus could tell that they contained the concepts of fear and nightmare, that they were intrinsically linked to the corrupted Night Elf.
All around the man, illusory beings came into existence, and the swamp that surrounded them shuddered and breathed as it came to life.
Heavy gravity surrounded Varrus, and he realized that the trap he had so boldly ran into earlier was an AOE zone control spell.
It was one that restricted movements, and prevented teleportation. Murky waters that were as thick and black like oil pooled around his ankles, and slowly ate at his mana.
At the same time, the cursed runes Malfurion had carved into his flesh pulsed with some unholy magic that made him feel light headed, and hallucinogenic.
Queasy, and on the verge of collapse, Varrus didn''t care about any of this as he glared hatefully at this repeat foe.
He was not one to remain idle for long, and did two things at once.
First, he cast Dispel Magic to do away with the curse Malfurion had placed upon him. At the same time, he opened his mouth and shouted:
¡°Feim. Zii. Gron!¡±
(Fade. Spirit. Bind!)
Becoming a blue, see-through ¡®ghost¡¯ could not have come sooner, because the second Varrus had become intangible, Malfurion passed right through him.
The massive druid was bathed in lightning, and had an animalistic air about him as he paced around Varrus.
Snarling and talking to himself, Malfurion almost reminded Varrus of Golem from LOTR. The 9 ft tall purple man prowled behind Varrus, and was constantly darting in and out of the swamp like a hunter testing its prey.
Clearly this corruptive state had vastly altered Malfurion''s psychology, because this behavior was in stark contrast to his calm collected typical self.
After assessing this attitude, Varrus decided to test this new Malfurion''s capabilities while his Shout lasted.
Knowing that Become Ethereal would only break once the timer ran out, or he used an offensive skill/physical attack, Varrus opted for one of his more recent spells.
Seidstone.
This spell brought back illusions of the nearby dead, and it just so happened that Cenarius, and those two other creatures of nightmare had perished relatively close to where they were now.
As the stone floated in the sky, and sent forth a blue ring-like pulse of energy, countless beings rose from the ground, their pale blue forms were blank-faced as they all turned to Malfurion as one.
¡°You dare bring the foul instructor back to us? //// We missed you Canarius, where have you been, old friend?¡± Malfurion spoke towards Varrus and the illusion of Cenarius in a crazed manner.
He then pulled one of the orange orbs into his hand, and fashioned it into a blade of pure energy, and ran at Cenarius. The other two orbs then began to bombard the creatures of nightmare with beams.
As Varrus watched the fight, he noticed that Malfurion seemed to be much faster then any time they had fought in the past. In fact, it was almost as if he were a phantom, the way he moved.
While this could be a feature of his corruption, or even that of the swamp, Varrus felt that there was something fishy going on.
Continuing to watch, and make plans to catch Malfurion off guard, it wasn''t until he saw one of the Seidstone illusions disappear into a nothingness that it clicked.
Varrus had trampled over Malfurion earlier, yet it had been a fake! What if the thing he was fighting right now¡was also nothing more than a projection!
Casting Clairvoyance, Varrus used it with thoughts similar to ¡®point me to Malfurion.¡¯
¡only, the spell began to point at the suspected illusion of Malfurion, only to fizzle out!
¡®What the hell?!¡¯ Varrus thought to himself in confusion.
Varrus slumped his shoulders. What had gone wrong? It couldn''t be that the Malfurion fighting in front of him was real, because otherwise, Clairvoyance would be pointing towards him.
Perhaps there was some other interference? Maybe an anti tracking spell like what the Rune Stones did when they prevented any scrying of the Sunwell?
Wracking his brain, Varrus saw that his bar for Become Ethereal was ticking down and had almost reached its end. He had to come up with a solution and fast, otherwise, Malfurion would be on his back within seconds.
Just watching him casually slay one of the horrors was enough to put into perspective how much more powerful Malfurion was now, compared to when they first fought.
Frowning to himself, Varrus went over the past couple of minutes to see if he missed anything.
After a few seconds, he realized something critical!
¡°The nightmare creatures!¡± Varrus exclaimed to himself in shocked surprise.
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
This entire encounter had developed because they had led Malfy and Cenarius here in the first place!
Furthermore, who was to say that that was even Malfurion to begin with?!
Varrus was pulled into the Emerald Dream, but it also went by another name. The Emerald Nightmare!
Was this perhaps a plot orchestrated by the King of Nightmares, Xavius all along?!?!
Such a thought was sobering. The Satyr had lured Cenarius all the way out here, and got him killed. Now he was trying to murder Varrus.
¡®But wait, no, that doesn''t make any sense. Then what happened to Malfurion? Is this an illusion, the real thing, or something else?¡¯ Varrus questioned the series of events, and confused himself.
Shaking his head, Varrus determined that the ¡®how¡¯ didn''t matter, he would find out the truth in good time. What he had to do now was find out where that rat, Xavius was, and put an end to him.
Casting Clairvoyance once more, this time, Varrus had it direct him towards Xavius.
A second later, a pale blue stream spawned in, and pointed in a direction away from the current Malfurion vs illusory Cenarius!
Glancing back at the illusion he had created, and seeing that it would likely break soon under fake-Malfurion''s onslaught, Varrus cast Seidstone once more, refreshing the fight so that it started all over again, and would buy him some time.
Varrus then tossed out his flying carpet, and pulled Omen close with a swift application of telekinesis.
Taking to the skies, Varrus healed the doggo, and fed him a handful of Mana Stones to regenerate his mana.
Pulling out his scrying orb, he sent a quick message to Rho''dan: \\Stay safe, I''m pursuing the foe. This Malfurion is a fake.//
He then began to follow Clairvoyance towards the source of this malaise. Towards Xavius!
After a dozen minutes of flight, Varrus saw an ominous tower sitting upon a castle in the distance.
Rolling his eyes, Varrus couldn''t help but scoff at the clich¨¦ appearance of the corrupted wizards tower.
¡°Ha ha ha. Very clever boy. But this is still my game!¡± A calm voice boomed from the sky.
As soon as the voice-which Varrus could only assume belonged to Xavius-finished speaking, all hell broke loose.
Harnessing the powers of dreams, Xavius altered the landscape as if it were a simulation, and he had editorial control.
One moment, Varrus was flying at high speeds, the next, he slammed into a wall.
Instinctively raising his fist, Varrus braced himself, and punched out. At first, it felt as if he might splatter, the wall was extremely solid, and his high speed akin to a jet engine had him worry that something catastrophic might occur.
However, the invisible cloak of his Commanding & Imposing Presence flared, and he saw the wall for what it was. Nothing more than a paltry illusion!
With this revelation, he punched out with more confidence, and smashed through the wall as if it were constructed from a thin sheet of paper.
His Illusion perks were much more effective in the Emerald Dream than he thought! The fact that he had shook the entire realm when he released them in full should have clued him in as to their potential power.
Varrus had totally discounted the idea of engaging any enemies in melee on account of the 100% physical damage debuff.
However, the intangible presence of his perks were not physical!
Clenching his fist, Varrus appreciated his newfound power, and looked forward with confidence.
What awaited him on the other side was a miles long cavern and maze.
The tower that he assumed was Xavius''s home was nowhere to be in sight.
Within the maze, countless monsters howled up at him, each and every one of them emitting the aura of Heroes. The ceiling ever so slowly began to fall down, as if gears were pressing on it. Spikes from the walls shot electric arcs at him with spells strong enough to disintegrate minor Heroes like Telonicus in three hits.
Chuckling to himself, Varrus thought Xavius was a fool if he thought he would enter this labyrinth and waste his time!
With the extreme boost to his Illusion skill, and his monstrous spell power, Varrus took to modifying one of his lesser spells, Illusory Flames.
Illusory Flames: Concentrate to deal 30% of their current Health as temporary damage that wears off after 2 seconds.
With all his boosts, the power and duration of this spell had increased to a 105% temporary destruction of health, lasting 60 seconds.
Anything without magic resistance would be like tinder before a match!
Using both hands, Varrus pointed down at the cavern, and released a firestorm of epic proportions.
Blue-white flames poured forth in an endless torrent, transforming the illusory cavern into a wasteland.
Xavius must have been panicking, because after the cavern was destroyed, the wizards tower had teleported even further away, and a new biome had been established in between them.
Varrus scoffed in derision, and was going to pursue, however, the shade of Malfurion had caught up to him.
Clad in orange wings of nightmare energy, Malfurion flew at Varrus moving at incredible speeds. In his hand he held his bright orange sword made of mana. Hovering above him, the third orb spat out a constant stream of bolts and beams.
¡°Begone foul illusion!¡± Varrus said, and cast out the sea of white-blue flames.
¡°I am no illusion! /// Release me from this torment, I beg of you!¡± The twin personalities of Malfurion spoke.
Varrus paid them no mind, and unleashed his full firepower.
Malfurion growled as he sliced through the flames, and used his orb as a shield.
The overwhelming power behind Varrus''s spell was too much, however, and crushed one of his orbs of nightmare.
Malfurion howled in anguish, yet losing a piece of himself had placed him within melee range.
Varrus took this moment to use the Slow Time Shout, and unsheathed his sword.
Channeling Imposing Presence into his blade, Varrus clashed again and again with the corrupted druid throughout the sky.
Each one of their sword strikes shook the world, and made the air tremble as their wills tore apart the fabric of this realm.
¡°Tyrande! Why did you die! //// Varrus Vandercross, I will feast on your soul!¡± Malfurion wept great tears, causing a flood on the ground down below.
Varrus breathed heavily as he narrowly avoided a cut that took some of his hair, and pushed the Night Elf back by blasting him with Illusory Flames in his offhand.
Malfurion hissed as he was forced to bob and weave through the air to dodge Varrus''s concentrated fire.
As soon as Varrus got a breather, he noticed that the biome had changed again, and the world was plunged into an impossibly deep darkness.
¡°Malfurion had plagued me for generations, I have to thank you for sending him to me. The remnants of his soul formed the illusion you face now, a fate you shall soon join in!¡± Xavius''s voice taunted from within the dark.
¡°What makes you think this darkness will stand up to my flames any better than the cave? I fear you must not be that far removed from our Troll ancestors if such thinking is the best you could come up with.¡± Varrus smugly taunted, and unleashed the Illusory Flames once more, breaking this prison of darkness.
As soon as the illusion shattered, Varrus had an uncanny feeling.
¡°Surprise~¡± Malfurion called from behind, lightning coating his hand just like it did before!
When circumstances seemed like they would repeat themselves, one little dog intervened.
¡°Arf!¡± Omen barked, and lunged across the flying carpet to intercept Malfurion.
Biting him in the leg, Omen pulled the corrupted druid back by an inch.
But an inch was all Varrus needed.
Whipping around lightning fast, Varrus put his palm on Malfurion''s face.
¡°What was it you said about deja vu?¡± Varrus mocked.
¡°This isn''t over! //// Not my soul, please young one!¡± Malfurion replied.
Yet Varrus ignored him, and blasted Malfurion point blank with an unyielding deluge of raw power.
The Illusory Flames gushed out of his palm like a river breaking free from a dam.
Malfurion''s eyes went wide, and he screamed in untold agony as his soul was erased from this plane.
Upon hearing the collection ding of a Soul Gem being placed into his inventory, Varrus turned towards Xavius¡¯s tower.
¡°It was never your game, Xavius.¡±
Spitting to the side, Varrus gave Omen a scratch behind the ears, and set his sights on the tower.
This nightmare ended today!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
AN: New release schedule:
Public: M, T, F
Patr eon: M, T, W, Th, F
(I¡¯ll be on vacation March 10th/11th)
Chapter 151
Within the dark twisted tower that Xavius, King of Nightmares called home, all was in chaos.
The recent events of the realm shaking as if it were a boat adrift in a storm had set the residents into a panic.
Various creatures known for their ability to scare and terrorize fled into the mortal world, and inhabited the dreams of others so that they did not have to face what was coming for them.
Just half an hour ago, these very same creatures of nightmare had swaggered out of portals, and deposited their excess mana for Xavius to consume.
Now, these supposed baddest of the bad had all but disappeared.
This once dark, dismal dwelling of the damned had transformed into a derelict, disheveled depot for only the most diehard and the doomed.
¡°Fools.¡± Xavius said aloud to his empty throne room.
The fleeing nightmares hid in the mortal realm amongst the sleeping dreams, yet where would they go once the recipient of their haunting woke up?
Right back to the Emerald Dream.
It would be amusing to see the look on their ugly faces once they returned, only to be greeted by that cursed pale-skin.
At least, it would be amusing if it weren''t so pathetic.
Clenching his fist so tight that his blackened nails drew blood, Xavius relished in the distraction.
As long as something, anything could take his mind off that man, then Xavius would clutch onto such thoughts like a dying man grasping at straws.
Yet those moments were fleeting and bitter sweet. Because on the horizon outside his window, the constant flash of pale-blue flame tore into his retina, and was a constant reminder of reality.
The difficulty of ignoring impending demise, Xavius figured, was the waiting. The build up of knowing it was coming within minutes was much more excruciating than randomly perishing.
The Satyr drummed his sharpened claws along his wooden throne as he sighed.
Where had he gone wrong?
After thousands of years, he had finally become freed from being polymorphed into a fucking tree, and had made a name for himself.
When he felt the disturbance of Ysera opening a portal to the realm of Azeroth, he intervened.
He couldn''t help himself, there, unguarded and heavily damaged was Malfurion''s soul!
His hated rival of millenia, Xavius knew he absolutely had to strike, and so during the transition between realms, had mobilized all his power to stealthily infiltrate Malfurion''s soul, and placed a geas on it.
To corrupt his hated rival from both inside and out!
Xavius then sent out his minions so that his subtle suggestions would draw both him and Cenarius out. Once isolated, they could battle with the pale-Elf, and fight to the death!
Unfortunately, Xavius''s control wasn''t ironclad, and Malfurion had slain one of his more powerful minions.
On other hand, Malfurion had murdered his precious teacher, and fallen to the dark side!
Things could not have gone better to plan! His arch rival was now his strongest minion, and once things were cleaned up there, he could puppet Malfurion to infiltrate Ysera''s temple, and destroy her from the inside!
It was so devious, so cruel, so delicious!
The very thought of penetrating Ysera from behind even now sent Xavius into a tizzy.
But then it was all thrown to the wayside!
That damned, blasted, blonde, smug piece of shit stopped playing hide & seek, and stood his ground!
Who knew he would be so adept within the dream?!
Xavius had gleaned from many dreams that this pale-Elf was not to be trifled with. And so, he had sent Malfurion to give him everything he had.
In fact, Xavius was just inches away from success, when catastrophic disaster struck!
The stupid hound that had been sleeping at the bottom of the lake all this time had chosen the worst time to strike!
All that planning, all that sweet sweet revenge.
Gone.
It was so maddening, Xavius wanted to pull out his hair, cut his losses, and run away to the mortal realm.
Unlike those creatures of nightmare, he was real flesh and blood. He could return to Azeroth, return to Kalimdor where he had a small base of operations.
The Satyr were weak after this latest failed invasion by the Burning Legion, but so too were the Night Elves. With the death of the Night Elven leaders, they would be easy pickings for someone like him who was a former Night Elf, and understood how they operated.
Drumming his nails along his throne, Xavius really wanted to go with this plan, but something niggling in the back of his heart metaphorically held him in place.
If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
¡°I could¡¡±
Xavius said aloud, voicing his desire.
¡°But I shouldn''t. I would lose all I have built, my empire, my title, gone. How can I justify fleeing?¡± Xavius admonished himself for such cowardly thoughts.
¡°And yet.¡± Xavius said, peering out the window, and watching on in dispassionate distress as the scourging flames of impending doom blasted their way across the land.
Whatever they touched was erased beyond measure, all that remained was the ever haunting expanse that was the white void.
Shuddering in place, Xavius imagined such an oblivion of nothingness, and nearly lost himself.
It scared him, terrified him even.
Yet there were things in this universe much worse than death.
Thinking about her sent a shiver down his spine.
He did not actually earn the title ¡°King of Nightmares¡±, but in fact, it was something he had been bequeathed upon his ultimately failed marriage.
Yes, he had betrayed his wife for power, and a fraction of her true form was currently sealed within the Emerald Dream, granting him said power. If he were to flee, there was nearly a 100% chance that she would eventually escape, and transform the Emerald Dream into a portion of her own domain, the Quagmire.
Once she did, and had a firm foothold, there would be nothing stopping her from invading Azeroth.
Once she did, she would find him, and she would exact her vengeance for the betrayal he had visited upon her.
For she was the Burnished Bride, Valia-Sha, the Orange Star, Magna Ge, Weaver of Panoply, his former lover, the Queen of Nightmares & the Daedric Prince:
Vaermina.
Breathing heavily, Xavius tried to calm himself down.
Yes.
Yes, he could do this. He wasn''t powerless.
He had tricked the God, Sargeras for his knowledge. Tricked the most powerful sorceress on Azeroth to grant him unfettered access to the Well of Eternity. Tricked the Aspects into fighting said God, then when it all seemed lost and he was turned into a tree, tricked another God into freeing him!
It was not doomed. He was not doomed!
Using his scrying orb, Xavius called the last person he would ever expect to ask for help. Yet she was his only hope to prevent the Avatar of Vaermina from descending upon this realm.
If he played his cards right, Xavius knew he could spin Malfurion''s death as an act that he took no part in. And in fact, he wouldn''t really be lying. It would be a truth, the best kind of lie contained the element of truth!
Xavius happily thought up his plan, and yet, the drumming on his chair began to speed up as his call met nothing but silence, and the flames on the horizon became closer and closer.
After an agonizing couple of minutes, Ysera finally picked up.
Keeping his face composed, Xavius made sure not to let fear color either his face or his voice. He would have to play this cool. After tricking several powerful women, he had come to learn that calm, collected and confident were good tools for gaining initial attention.
Remaining silent, Xavius thought his years of experience weren''t working, and was about to speak when Ysera''s voice came through.
¡°Here to gloat, are you? Well, get on with it, I only have so long to live.¡± Ysera spoke morosely on the other end.
Xavius almost couldn''t believe what he was hearing! Had this golden opportunity for survival dropped into his lap and it had nothing to do with his machinations?!
He almost suspected a trap, but no matter how she may style herself as an intellectual, Ysera was more hammer than hidden cloak.
This-almost too good to be true-information was stunning, and he almost didn''t say a word! But speak he did. He had to, since survical was on the line.
¡°Now, now my dear, gloating does not become esteemed beings such as ourselves. We have a reporte, Ysera. While we were never friends, I at least have the respect to know how to accept defeat with dignity and grace.¡± Xavius lied out of his ass in a cultured tone.
¡°I''m not stupid, Xavius. You can save such flowery language for idiots like my sister. What did you call for if not to rub it in?¡± Ysera crossed her arms, pushing up her magnificent bust.
Xavius almost lost himself in a moment of lust, but was quick to reel himself in.
Ysera''s attitude was rather uncharacteristic. She must genuinely think she was losing. What could be driving her to a state? The only thing that came to mind was related to him.
¡°Vandercross.¡± Xavius spat.
¡°By the tone of your voice, I take it you''re an enemy of hers?¡± Ysera asked in a disinterested tone that implied to Xavius that she was in fact, very interested.
¡°Indeed, I myself find that family to be rotten to the core. Why don''t I help you rid the realm of this trouble, and come down to your temple personally?¡± Xavius airily suggested.
Hook.
¡°I don''t know¡your entire army, here? I can''t trust you that much even if I am to be defeated.¡± Ysera bit her lip and turned to the side, clearly uncomfortable.
¡°Oh no, no need for my army. My interest is in your well being, and that of the entire Emerald Dream. Without the hope of a pleasant dream, then nightmares would lose all meaning! I''m doing this for us as much as I''m doing this for me. I''ll reinforce you alone.¡± Xavius planted his hand over his heart, and stood from his throne to present an as sincere look as possible.
Line.
¡°I don''t know¡¡± Ysera looked off into the distance as a boom sounded far, yet near at the same time.
¡°Tell you what. How about we both take a magical binding oath? That way, we can work together instead of against one another. Coexist, as partners, not enemies, to put aside this pointless violence. C''mon girl, what do you say?¡± Xavius took a step forward towards Ysera''s projection, and leaned on a nearby pillar.
¡°...okay, but make it quick. Time is running short on my end.¡± Ysera said in a hurry.
Sinker.
¡°Good choice. I''ll begin the words to our oath~
In the name of Lorkhan, I, Xavius, take you, Ysera, to be my partner in dreams, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until we are parted by death. This is my solemn vow.¡± Xavius uttered forth with a cheshire grin as he swore to the God of tricksters.
By their powers combined, they just might survive this hot mess.
As Ysera finished her part of the oath, Xavius turned back to see his kingdom in ashes, and everything he had built returned to the void.
Rage, and anger pulsed in his heart, but deep down, he felt malicious scorn.
Soon, he would team up with Ysera, and together, they would slaughter his wife, and fuck her skull.
Opening up a portal to Ysera''s temple, Xavius grinned as a wave of unrelenting fire pressed down upon his position.
¡°Goodbye, Varrus Vandercross. The next time we meet shall be your demise.¡± Xavius taunted the smug Elf, and entered the portal to Ysera''s side.
~~~~~~~~
AN: Read 30+ chapters ahead at:
Chapter 152
(Around the time Varrus is training Omen)
Syra emerged from the portal into the Emerald Dream with vengeance and fury in her heart.
Upon stepping foot into this new land, she scanned her surroundings for threats, and tried to see who had abducted her precious husband so that she could visit upon them 10ft of solid steel.
Glancing about, Syra noticed a scenic atmosphere.
Vibrant grass flowed along with a gentle breeze. Trees ripe with every fruit imaginable, and critters such as deer, birds, and squirrels frolicked about without a care in the world.
Clouds lazily drifted overhead, their white fluffiness seemed as if she could reach out her hand, and grab it.
Park benches, and paths leading to nowhere circled around fountains, busts, and other artistic architecture.
The environment reminded Syra of a bygone age, one that heavily resembled the fusion of nature and buildings that she had seen depicted in the books on ancient Night Elf society.
If this was the property of the owner of this realm, then she wanted it gone.
Unsheathing her sword, Syra charged the blade with a healthy dose of the Holy Void, and cut it all down with one heavy, horizontal slice.
A thin wave of golden-purple energy pulsed out of her sword, and cleaved through everything in sight.
The grass, trees, benches, fountains, they all met a tragic demise as the power of the Holy Void ate away at their conceptual foundation, churning away at the objects until they were naught but dust.
Satisfied with her act of destruction, Syra sheathed her weapon, and closed her eyes to focus, to see if she could feel the connection between her bound dagger-the first weapon she ever killed with and had gifted to Varrus-to see if she could locate her lost lover.
Snapping her eyes open with a frown, Syra huffed as she couldn''t sense it. The distance must''ve been too far away¡that or it was destroyed!
The realization was like a wound to her heart, and had her imperceptibly increase the rate of her breathing.
Like a caged animal prodded to violence, Syra was all pent up, and that small release of destruction upon the land had done little to soothe her anxiety.
Turning to the druid, Valanar, Syra gripped him by the scruff of his robe, and lifted him an inch off the ground.
¡°Ysera abducted Varrus. You''ve been to the Emerald Dream before. Take me to her.¡± Syra demanded, then roughly pushed him back a step.
The Reforged Darkfallen former Prince seemed as if he was about to protest, but ultimately bowed his head.
¡°This way, lady Vandercross.¡± The white haired pretty boy half-bowed, then led the way towards a golden bricked road.
Syra barely withheld the urge to sprint ahead, and reigned in her impatience then followed behind Valanar.
The druid seemed to sense her growing displeasure, and was quick to pick up the pace.
Pulling out a tiny-finger sized-worm from his pocket, Valanar cast a spell, and enlarged it to the size of a four-story building.
¡°Would you care to join me, ladies?¡± Valanar gestured for Syra and Nightsong to join him atop the worm''s head.
¡°Get on with it.¡± Syra said in barely concealed irritation.
Every second wasted was a second her Varrus was in trouble! Could Valanar not see this?! Was he actively conspiring against her? Maybe she should¡
¡°Calm, daughter-in-law. Is your faith in Varrus so shallow? Fear is the currency of this land. Do not allow its tendrils to trap your mind.¡± Nightsong placed a warm, caring hand on Syra''s shoulder, and spoke with an air of maturity.
Syra turned her golden eyes to look at her once upon a time idol, and didn¡¯t blink.
¡°You don''t know Varrus. He is strong, clever, and more. But he has almost died every time I have left his side! I must hurry to him!¡± Syra said in equal parts determination and desperation.
She tried to pull away, but Nightsong pulled her in close for a hug.
¡°Your love for him is beautiful, but like the fly that coveted the flame of a candles wick, this self destructive behavior shall be your undoing.¡± Nightsong warned, and gestured to the light show currently taking place all along Syra''s body.
Syra, in her concern, was harshly fluctuating between her Void, Light, and Holy Void states.
¡°Unhand me.¡± Syra hissed.
Nightsong let go, a sad smile spread across her face.
¡°Valanar. Let''s go.¡± Syra commanded in a tone that brokered no disobedience.
Hopping on top of the worm, she slapped it on the side, and it began to move forward at a respectable speed.
Nightsong jumped after them, and stood beside Syra.
¡°He would have enjoyed exploring this garden with you, Syra.¡± Nightsong calmly said as they passed through the blind destruction that Syra had wrought just moments earlier.
Syra meanwhile, stared unblinkingly out into the distance, at the next section of verdant grass, flush trees, and happy clouds.
¡°Ysera shaped this realm to her desires. I''m going to take everything she cherishes and more. Just like what she took from me, what she took from you.¡± Syra said with finality, and gave Nightsong a disparaging glance.
If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.
It was a look filled with disgust, as if to say ¡®why don''t you feel as strongly about this as I do?¡¯
Syra then reached to unsheath her blade, and cleanse the dream of anything and everything Ysera might have touched, when Nightsong placed her hand atop the handle, preventing Syra from drawing her sword.
¡°Do not take my outward calm as an absence of anger, Syra. I am as wroth as you when it comes to my son''s abduction. But if it is destruction of land that soothes your desire for vengeance, then I shall play along.¡± Nightsong said with a small smile.
¡°What are you doing?¡± Syra narrowed her eyes, and glared at Nightsong.
For the longest time, she had treated this woman with respect, and dignity. Sought out her advice in the ways of the warrior, and tried to become close with her at every turn. For the sake of her family, and her own girlish desire to be recognized by her childhood hero, she tried tried tried to make a connection between them. Yet every time, she had been rebuffed.
Currently, this was the most Nightsong had ever spoken with her, and she was trying to get in the way of her search for Varrus?!
Syra was ever so slowly wondering if Nightsong was even worthy of being considered a family member if this was how she reacted to her son being kidnapped!
¡°I can see the fires of bloodlust pulsing in your soul, it yearns for destruction. Allow me to show you my conviction.¡± Nightsong patted Syra on the hand, then let go of her blade.
Before Syra could unleash another horizontal slash of Holy Void energy, Nightsong struck first.
¡°Fus. Roh. Dah!¡±
The mighty Shout left Nightsong''s mouth in an epic wave of Unrelenting Force.
Trees, shrubbery, ancient architecture, it was nothing before the might contained within Nightsong''s attack!
Syra watched on in awe as the signature move depicted in the ancient tales and sagas was released. Her hand, which had half-drawn her blade, begrudgingly let go of the handle, allowing the blade to slide back into place.
¡°By the Gods!¡± Valanar shouted out in surprise due to the incredible volume of the Shout, and sudden destruction of the land.
¡°Good, I have your attention. Listen close, Syra.¡± Nightsong nodded, then took out a pair of cups, and a teapot full of soothing liquid.
Pouring both of them a cup, Nightsong blew on her hot beverage, and took a sip. She gestured towards Syra with a smile.
Syra was still aggravated, but at least Nightsong had proven herself.
Reluctantly taking a sip of tea, Syra found it to be refreshing, and it soothed her throat.
As someone who hated talking for any length of time, Syra was content with waiting for Nightsong to speak. So long as Nightsong didn''t get in the way of her destruction of the Emerald Dream, then Syra had no reason to converse at length.
Taking one more sip, Nightsong finally got to her point.
¡°This realm, this place of nightmare & imagination, it is the Emerald Dream. A place where anything can happen, where the deepest desires and fears of its guests & denizens are amplified.¡±
Syra stared unblinkingly at Nightsong. Was the famed General saying that she was compromised?
As if!
Her love for Varrus was her strength!
Without her care, where would he be, but a sobbing mess unable to deal with the harsh cruelties of war? Without him, what would she be but a soulless weapon in her mother-Faedra''s-clutches?
They complimented one another. She was his, and he was hers.
This was something Syra would never concede!
Narrowing her eyes, Syra looked dangerously at Nightsong, measuring her next words with deliberate intensity.
¡°Your fear, love, and other emotions for Varrus, they are your greatest strengths. But they are also your most vulnerable points. Ordinarily, this is not a big deal. However, in this realm, in this nexus of the unreal, such emotions carry weight. I am not instructing you to change yourself, I am letting you know. Do not allow foreign interference to dictate how you think. Be your own master.¡± Nightsong patiently explained her stance on the matter.
Syra almost cracked the tea cup she was holding upon hearing what Nightsong had to say.
However, what was said was the truth. Syra had noticed-if ever so slightly-that her hysteria was enhanced. Yet when she unleashed the Holy Void, she realized that it was also stronger than ever before.
At first, she thought this was due to her rekindled connection to the Sunwell, but it wasn''t until now, that Nightsong had pointed this information out, that Syra realized what was going on.
However, she was well aware that emotion was the fuel for both the Light and the Void.
In this land of dreams, she could control herself, as Nightsong suggested, or she could lean into the power, and use it to save Varrus!
Taking a sip of the tea, Syra nodded in thanks, and for the wisdom shared by Nightsong.
She was a truly spectacular woman, one worthy of her iconic status as Silvermoon''s premier Hero.
That being said, Syra refused to calm herself down!
Varrus needed her, and this heightened state of emotion would be the perfect place to hone her understanding of the Holy Void!
Syra saw the look of dawning realization upon Nightsong''s face-that Syra would not only ignore her advice, but that she would lean into the enhanced emotional state-and she let out a small chuckle!
Before Nightsong could say anything else that might sway Syra, Valanar let out a shout, calling them to attention.
¡°Enemies dead ahead!¡±
Turning away from the tea set, Syra found herself grinning as an army of forest creatures was gathering dead ahead.
In the skies, countless whelps, drakes, and a dozen Heroic Green Dragons blocked their path.
Unsheathing her sword, Syra prepared herself to unleash a wave of overwhelming violence.
Before either side struck, an illusory form of a Night Elf woman appeared.
¡°Greetings, Syra, Nightsong, and Valanar. I am Ysera, leader of the Green Dragonflight. Perhaps we have gotten off on the wrong foot. I am not your enemy. In fact, Varrus is fighting against our mutual enemy, Xavius! Please, let us discuss-¡±
¡°Discuss? What is there to discuss with the harlot that kidnapped my Varrus?! How dare you even say his name!¡± Syra hotly said, then swiped her blade down, erasing the illusion.
The Bronze Dragonflight had meddled with her husband hours ago, as far as Syra was concerned, they had murdered Ysera''s brother, and she was out for revenge! To trick them, and keep her from what rightfully belonged to her!
Unless Varrus spoke to her, or was here in the flesh, she wouldn''t believe any of the lizard''s lies!
¡°Hold on Varrus, I''m coming for you.¡± Syra said in determination.
An aura of destruction and despair radiated from her in all directions.
¡°Move aside.¡± Syra commanded.
A wave of unmitigated energy pulsed around her and warped the dreamland as her extreme emotions altered the fabric of this realm.
The Dragons seemed to flinch, yet they remained steadfast in their refusal to budge.
Syra took this as the challenge that it was.
There would be no survivors.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
AN: Read 30+ chapters ahead (up to ch 189) at:
Chapter 153
Half an hour had passed since the army of dreamfolk had launched their attack on Syra & company.
For Syra, it was half an hour of excitement, and retribution.
Facing off against five Heroic true Dragons at once, and the combined attacks of several hundred Elites, she had never fought so many powerful opponents at once!
Parrying a blast of green energy from a Dragon''s breath, Syra cleaved through the stream, and performed a headlong rush towards the beast that was attacking her.
She must''ve caught the Dragon by surprise, because it rapidly blinked at Syra, and tried to flap its wings away. Yet Syra was too fast.
Thanks to the duel with Grom, she had gotten a measure on her speed enchantments, and could outpace any Hero that wasn''t at the very top of the totem pole.
As a result, she had emerged from her sprint in front of the Green Dragon that was attacking her in practically an instant. Sword stabbing forth, her shining Holy Void blade pierced the roof of the beings mouth, and exploded with purple-gold energy out the roof of its head.
The Dragon wailed in despair, turning to the other four Dragons in pleading horror, but there was to be no rescue.
Syra heaved her sword, and slammed the lizard to the ground.
Falling down along with it, Syra pressed into the ground like a meteor.
Channeling her magic into the tip of her sword, she pointed toward the earth, and when she made contact, erupted in a wide, dome-like explosion.
Holy Void mana spread everywhere. The power contained within her attack spread to a radius of 5 miles. Whereupon it incinerated dozens of Elites, and thousands of Regulars.
Standing atop the corpse of the Heroic true Dragon, her long blonde hair whipped in the wind, and a smile stretched from ear to ear.
This was living!
Glancing about the battlefield, Syra saw Valanar hiding at the edge, fighting with his worms, and Nightsong had already slain 3 out of the five Heroic Dragons that had tried to kill her.
Syra withheld a grimace. This was no competition, and there was no dishonor in being slower than the preeminent legend amongst the Highborn¡but Syra wanted to be better!
She didn''t care for glory, or any of those wasteful platitudes. All she wanted, was to be the strongest woman in House Vandercross.
To be the sole idol for her children!
Dodging another concentrated blast of green fire, Syra looked up at the remaining Dragons murderously.
The only thing missing from this fight, Syra concluded, was Varrus. He would have loved collecting the Soul Gems necessary for his enchantments.
Her heart ached just thinking about him!
Dropping her grin, Syra lost all pleasure she had from this fight. Varrus''s whereabouts were still unknown. She didn''t have time to enjoy this!
Jumping towards another Dragon, Syra''s form took on a deep umbra hue bathed in golden light.
She zig-zagged from point to point, dodging every blast of energy that came her way.
Leaping into the air, Syra was quick, like a comet, and decapitated her next foe with ease. Springboarding off the Dragon''s body, she swiped her sword at the next one.
¡®I''m coming for you Varrus!¡¯
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
From within her temple, Ysera watched on in frustration as the army she had spent the last 10,000 years constructing was washed away like a sand castle at high tide.
She had dreamed them all onto existence, and had taken great pride in their creation. Ysera wouldn''t go so far as to call them her children, but she had had her fun playing Queen and having them as her faithful servants.
Even the true Dragons under her service were not real, as Ysera had never truly found anyone who impressed her. Perhaps that red headed beast of a man, Rho''dan was a curiosity, but even he did not meet her high standards. As a Dragon, she was only interested in the strong, but as a woman with fine taste, she wanted to be cherished by a fair man as beautiful as she was.
Growling to herself, Ysera stomped her foot, and was angered at how summoning Varrus Vandercross had created an uncontrollable spiral of chaos within the Emerald Dream.
Chiefly, she was disappointed at how easily her army was falling apart.
This force made up of dreams was designed to counter the malignant cancers of nightmare. It was extremely effective against other beings of unreality. Demons, Daedra, Elementals, they would slay with ease! However, they were no match for the novel use of magic that was the combination of Light & Void energies.
Her one and only solace in all of this, was that those annoying druids had met their demise, and that Xavius was-ironically-due for a nasty nightmare.
She had been keeping up to date with the ongoing battle within the lands of Nightmare, and she had been joyful at first. The way Varrus Vandercross survived such a harrowing fight, then his burning of that corrupted land. Why, it could make an old woman blush in shame! What she had been preparing for for countless years had been solved in a matter of hours!
Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.
Such a man was much more useful to cling onto than the likes of Malfurion! All talk, no action! Ysera had tried to seduce the famed druid multiple times, to try anything to get him to fight. Yet all he was interested in was talk!
Meanwhile, this rough, brutal attitude that Varrus was taking truly struck a chord with her draconic heart.
Whilst she was all about preaching the peace and sanctity of nature, at the end of the day, nature was not inherently friendly!
No matter what some druids preached about meditation and tranquility, nature would as soon as bite your head off as it would approach you for a scratch under the chin!
That being said, Ysera had been mentally preparing herself to throw herself at his feet if it meant she could remain as the ruler of the Emerald Dream. She had caught glimpses of what happened to Nozdormu.
That was a fate she had to avoid at all costs!
As a transcendental beauty, and mature woman full of grace, poise, and incredible power, she would act as the perfect mate for the equally powerful youth.
Then the wife had gotten herself involved!
Ysera was confident that she could win against Syra, afterall, the Elf was not a Demigod. However, Nightsong would be an issue. That was a fight that Ysera thought she could win as well. But the impact of their clash would be so monumental, it would be sure to draw Varrus¡¯s attention.
It would not be a good look to be seen killing his mother and lover.
And so, Ysera was in a bind.
Her hopes of finally finding a powerful, handsome man had been dashed, and her empire of dreams was slowly coming into ruin.
Biting her thumbnail in anxiety, Ysera continued to watch her illusions fall to the wayside.
¡°I have not seen you so panicked since you discovered the infiltration of the Emerald Nightmare.¡± An ethereal, mature woman''s voice rang out.
Entering Ysera''s chambers, a floating blue mass of mana in the shape of a woman''s face made her presence known.
It was Aessina, the Wild God, and Mother of Wisps.
¡°Aessina! You are a welcome presence! I had thought you were recovering after Malfurion sacrificed so many of your children at Mount Hyjal!¡± Ysera exclaimed.
¡°I was, my dear, yet the events in the dream do not allow rest. What have you gotten yourself into, girl?¡± Aessina lightly admonished in a playful, yet serious tone.
¡°Oh Aessina, it''s dreadful!¡± Ysera explained, and then began to share all of the events that had transpired over the last few hours.
After a quick recap, Aessina hummed in thought.
¡°Why my dear, the solution to your woes is simple.¡± Aessina laughed.
¡°Do not hold me in suspense, Aessina, what wisdom do you have to share?¡± Ysera dropped her pride, and asked the Wisp Queen.
¡°Varrus Vandercross, he is the crux of this situation, is he not? Even now, he turns the nightmare into ash, as his wife turns the dream into a wasteland. Xavius must be panicking the same as you. Now is the perfect time to rid yourself of that viper, and ally yourself with a new mortal servant.¡± Aessina twirled her giant ethereal head in a perfect circle, and winked at Ysera.
When Ysera was about to respond, her scrying orb began to ring, interrupting her thoughts.
Glancing at it, she recognized the mana signature trying to reach out to her.
It was Xavius!
Ysera contemplated blasting the orb to smithereens, and even raised a hand filled with mystical power to complete such a task, however, she was stopped by Aessina.
¡°Wait! This is an opportunity! The Nightmare King must be truly desperate to be calling you now. Now is the time to ply him for all he''s worth. His ¡®assistance¡¯ is the key to victory.¡± Aessina suggested.
¡°...that could work. Xavius is a coward, one who would grasp at any straws to survive. Like a rat on a drowning ship, he would reach out to any safe harbor, even me.¡± Ysera paced around the room, and plotted her next move out loud.
¡°Precisely, my dear. Put that innocent womanly charm of yours to good use for once! Draw the arrogant paramour in with your beauty, and summon him atop Syra''s head. This way, you can kill two birds with one stone.¡± Aessina suggested with a joyful, teasing tone in her voice.
¡°Then once Xavius has slain and defiled her, I can swoop in, and avenge her. Varrus, heart stricken, shall be mine for the taking!¡± Ysera paused in her pacing, and exclaimed.
¡°Wrong! Try again dear. I know you are looking for love, but this is the incorrect path.¡± Aessina tutted like a disappointed mother.
¡°But Aessina, I have finally done away with that brute Malfurion, and a handsome, powerful man is coming to my rescue. It will be perfect, just like in the fairy tales!¡± Ysera argued.
¡°Still a little girl.¡± Aessina shook her head from left to right in disappointment. ¡°From what you have told me, Varrus just finished killing your brother, showcasing he is very much capable of slaying you. Furthermore, Nozdormu had plotted to slay Varrus decades ago, and it is by your hand that the Elf is in the Emerald Dream in the first place. Do you truly think he wouldn''t find you culpable in Syra''s death? Think, girl!¡±
¡°...fine. I''ll summon Xavius, then notify Varrus about his wife, and my intentions to ally with him.¡± Ysera crossed her arms, and pouted.
¡°There, there. It is better to live and fight another day, then to blindly pursue love scorned.¡± Aessina said comfortingly.
¡°Haah, thank you for sharing your wisdom as always, Aessina. Now go, I must prepare myself to make contact with that vile lecher.¡± Ysera said.
¡°Best of luck, dear.¡± Aessina smiled, then hid herself out of sight.
Ysera then took a deep breath, and forced herself to cry.
Accepting the call, Ysera took in Xavius''s smug self assured form, and barely withheld a smile.
The Satyr remained silent for a couple minutes, clearly trying at some power play. But the longer he remained quiet, the more pathetic he seemed to Ysera.
Seeing as the arrogant prick was just going to keep sitting there and ogling her without saying anything, Ysera decided to play with him.
¡°Here to gloat, are you? Well, get on with it, I only have so long to live.¡± Ysera spoke morosely.
¡°Now, now my dear, gloating does not become esteemed beings such as ourselves. We have a reporte, Ysera. While we were never friends, I at least have the respect to know how to accept defeat with dignity and grace.¡± Xavius replied trying to sound cultured.
Ysera internally rolled her eyes. This was too easy.
Xavius really thought he was going to take her?
Please, as if she would ever lay with something so vile!
Once she was done with this call, she would contact Varrus. The Emerald Nightmare was finished!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
AN: Read 30+ chapters ahead at: patre o n.com/KarpQQ
Chapter 154
Flying atop his carpet, Varrus felt like Firelord Ozai when he started to burn down the Earth Kingdom.
Spreading from his hands, an overwhelming wave of fire cleansed the land.
Nightmare creatures that would terrify him if he found them in his closet, or underneath his bed were scurrying in fear.
A human-centipede, shadow-man, clown, and countless others ran about like headless chickens as his Illusory Flames destroyed the Emerald Nightmare.
Tens of thousands of Petty, Lesser and Common Soul Gems filled his inventory, and dozens of Greater Soul Gems as well!
With this many Soul Gems, and the insane buff of the Sunwell, Varrus figured he could outright create up to 5 Heroes, and hundreds of mid to high tier Elites!
Of course, stats didn''t make someone instantly good, as just like on Earth, someone who bought an account in a game would never be as good as a pro player. But enchanted gear went a long way.
The light of the pale-blue flame reflected off Varrus''s face, and revealed a mad grin.
Not only did he have all these minor Soul Gems, but he also had two Heroic Soul Gems from the Heroic Nightmares, and the Legendary Soul Gem that dropped from Malfurion!
Once he slotted those Heroic Soul Gems on himself, he would have 7 such buffed pieces of equipment: head, boots, chest, pants, 2 rings, amulet.
He almost had the entire set, only missing the belt.
Varrus considered using that Legendary Soul Gem on himself, but as he was already in the demigod tier, he feared for his wife''s safety.
They were always strongest when they fought together. If he could help elevate her, then that was his number one priority.
The fight against Murozond/Nozdormu saw her almost perish. That was simply unacceptable.
And so, whilst he would love to buff himself even more, he would never forgive himself if she died because he didn''t provide for her.
What man would he be if he couldn''t protect his woman?
Shaking his head, Varrus decided to get this over with, and obliterate Xavius. Once the Satyr was dead, he would be in possession of two Legendary Soul Stones!
Pressing forth, Varrus swept his hands all around him, erasing the foul corruption of the Emerald Nightmare as if he had spilt a bottle of whiteout over an important document.
Everywhere his flame licked, the foundations of the realm began to turn unstable, and evaporate into the eerie whiteness that was the void.
After smiting hundreds of miles worth of land, Varrus broke through every illusion Xavius had thrown at him, and began to spray the twisted tower of nightmare from afar.
As someone who focused on magic, and had discovered Xavius''s achilles heel, he reckoned it was much better to blast the Satyr from a comfortable distance.
Whilst Varrus was capable of infiltrating the tower, and assassinating Xavius, it was sometimes the simpler option of drowning his enemy in an unending torrent of fire that appealed to him.
¡°Ruff!¡± Omen stood from his resting spot by Varrus''s side, and growled.
A second later, the image of a beautiful High Elven woman appeared in front of him. Which was saying something, because even amongst High Elves, she was pretty. Snow white hair, ample bosom, superb waistline, thighs, etc. Even as a married man, Varrus couldn''t help but do a full body scan.
Dressed as a dancer, and wearing extremely revealing clothes, one might think she was a woman of the night, or looking to hook up. Honestly, it was difficult to look away from such a temptress.
Of course, he wouldn''t let such thoughts tempt him for more than a few seconds. Beauty was something everyone loved, but as any rational person from Earth would notice, this woman appeared to be like a viper. To Varrus, some beautiful people gave off red flags, and this girl seemed as if she were all sorts of trouble.
¡°Do I know you?¡± Varrus raised an eyebrow, and looked at the apparition, preparing himself for some sort of ambush.
He wasn''t familiar with too many High Elves, but he couldn''t recall ever seeing this one before. As such, he was a second away from blasting this illusion if she did anything funny.
¡°Ah, Varrus Vandercross, I have been wanting to talk to you for so long, but have been unable to! My apologies for not saying hello to you sooner, I am Ysera, mistress of the Green Dragonflight! I was caught up in a trap, and it wasn''t until you scared Xavius away, and severely damaged his Nightmare Tower, that I had the freedom to communicate!¡± The High Elf, Ysera explained.
Varrus frowned, wondering if this was some sort of trick by the Satyr? If it was, it would be rather odd, as Varrus had not let up his Illusory Flames, and the twisted tower was melting at this very moment.
The land of nightmare was 98% returned to the void. If this wasn''t a stalling tactic, then it must be real. But reality and truth were two separate things.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
¡°How can I trust that you were unable to communicate, when you pulled Malfurion, myself, and my companion into the Emerald Dream?¡± Varrus demanded in a suspicious tone.
¡°Good question.¡± Ysera nodded her head. ¡°I''m currently in my temple, and have a seal placed over my home. It was only through Malfurion''s plea for help, that I managed to wake up from my forced slumber, and pull him-alongside any who were near to him-into the dream. My sincerest apologies if this inconvenienced you.¡± The apparition bowed in apology, her voluminous bust jiggled with the action, and revealed the top part of her cleavage in the process.
Varrus frowned as he thought about what he knew of Ysera. Admittedly, it wasn''t much. However, she was notorious for being AFK in Canon, and routinely became corrupted. It wasn''t outside the realm of possibility that Xavius had ensorcelled her.
While he was suspicious
¡°Hmm, very well. I shall take you at your word.¡± Varrus crossed his arms, and eyed her skeptically. ¡°What is it you intend to do? If you have known about me for so long, then you know what has been going on in Azeroth. What I did to reach Xavius''s lair.¡± Varrus pointedly danced around the issue without saying anything explicit.
He wanted to test her knowledge of Nozdormu & Malfurion''s demise. To see how she reacted to the deaths of her supposed allies.
Because frankly, Varrus found this interaction to be suspicious as all hell. It was certainly plausible, and a small part of him even wanted to ally with her. Dragons were powerful, and the Emerald Dream had a lot of potential. Adding another Demigod to the Covenant would be amazing.
Yet he didn''t want to act all buddy buddy with a Dragon when his mom apparently, was an Avatar of Akatosh, and he himself was a Dragonborn. Dragons were his natural enemy, however, he was willing to give Ysera a chance. Who knew, maybe she would end up being chill like Paarthurnax from Skyrim?
¡°The weave and flow of dreams is chaotic, but I have seen enough. I know that my foolish brother tried to doom your race due to his fear of the future. He, much like Malfurion, spent so much time in fear, they were unwilling to act. For thousands of years, I have been in a reduced state, and neither of them ever acted in my best interest.¡± Ysera pouted, and said with a heavy sense of bitterness.
For once, Varrus thought Ysera spoke 100% truth. It seemed there was no love lost between friends & family.
¡°It wasn''t until a real man like you came along that all my problems were solved!¡± The apparition of Ysera flew in a backflip circle, and smiled brilliantly at Varrus. ¡°What those losers couldn''t accomplish in eons for fear of messing with the natural balance, or the true timeline, you accomplished in one afternoon! While I mourn for Malfurion''s loss, he ultimately became corrupted, and Nozdormu actually died to his future self. Your hands are clean of their harrowing demise. I blame you not for their foolish assaults. Lastly, and most importantly, you saved me! Varrus Vandercross, you are my Hero!¡± Ysera flew close to him, and blew a kiss.
Varrus, feeling uncomfortable by the extreme amount of praise coming from a beautiful woman that wasn''t his wife, backed up to avoid Ysera''s overwhelming jubilation.
However, ever so slowly, he was beginning to think that this encounter may be legit. He would be pissed off too if he had to deal with Malfurion and Nozdormu preaching about the balance of nature, or the proper timeline. Varrus couldn''t imagine what kind of torture it was like to be trapped in a dream for millenia. It was like being comatose, and everyone thought you were brain dead, only you could hear every bootleg conversation around you, and they treated you like furniture!
Shuddering to himself, Varrus, for the first time, felt the inklings of sympathy for this Dragon.
Sighing to himself, and shaking his head, Varrus decided he had to share some bad news with the woman.
¡°Unfortunately, you aren''t free yet, Xavius is still at large, he has escaped my encirclement somehow.¡± Varrus solemnly intoned.
Casting Clairvoyance, a line appeared in another direction. It seemed Xavius was still in the Emerald Dream. He had likely teleported somewhere else.
¡°Hmm, you''re right. The destruction of the Nightmare Tower greatly weakened the seal containing me, but it didn''t break completely. All I can do is communicate with the outside world, and talk to people through dreams. My powers are still extremely limited¡I would forever be in your debt if you rescued me, Lord Vandercross. I''d do anything for you in return.¡± Ysera finished her statement with a sexy pose.
¡°Riiight.¡± Varrus said in his best Dr. Evil impression. ¡°Anyway, we can discuss the terms of our alliance at a later date. It was nice to make your acquaintance, Lady Ysera, but I have Xavius to track down. Have a pleasant day, and I¡¯m glad I was of such assistance in freeing you. May our future endeavors be pleasant.¡± Varrus nodded his head, signaling that the conversation was over, and began to move his carpet away.
¡°Uh oh. Varrus, you may want to hurry.¡± Ysera shouted from behind.
Turning around, Varrus looked at her in confusion.
¡°Xavius is mounting an assault on my temple! If he gets to me, and takes my purity, he''ll have complete dominance over me! Also, there is a group of High Elves who are there as well!¡± Ysera finished her statement by conjuring up images of Syra, Nightsong, and Valanar.
¡°Syra?¡± Varrus said to himself in confusion.
Then he got a good glance at the druid, Valanar, and it all clicked into place, she must have run into the Emerald Dream to rescue him!
¡°Yes, that''s her name! They''re in a death defying duel with Xavius right now. It isn''t looking too good for him, but I think he might be willing to do something desperate. You have to hurry!¡± Ysera urged.
She then showed a scene of Syra, and Nightsong battling Xavius.
Nightsong was giving the Satyr the business, and Syra was fighting in a supporting role. If things kept on going on track, then his family were all set for a modest victory.
¡°What are you talking about, they are clearly winning.¡± Varrus shook his head, and eyed Ysera with incredulity.
¡°No, look at the girl, her emotions are all over the place! In the land of dreams, this is a huge weakness! Xavius is a master manipulator, and King of Nightmares. One capable of mind control and other nasty plots. If you don''t end him fast, he might even infiltrate her dreams!¡± Ysera cautioned in a panicked tone.
Although Varrus was skeptical of Ysera, she was the preeminent authority on dreams, and had been fighting Xavius for who knew how long. If anyone would be familiar with his style, it would be her.
¡°Thank you for the timely information, Lady Ysera. I owe you one.¡± Varrus very seriously nodded his head.
¡°Please, call me Ysera. Now go, your friends are counting on you.¡± Ysera replied with a beautiful smile.
Beginning to feel a slight unease, Varrus urged his flying carpet to move at its max speed.
Like a comet, Varrus streaked through the sky, leaving the land of Nightmares behind, and raced towards Xavius.
If he did anything to Syra, he swore the goat fucker would regret his decision till his agonizing, dying breath!
Chapter 155
Emerging from the portal sent by Ysera, Xavius was rubbing his hands together like a cheap villain so often portrayed in plays.
He felt jubilation knowing that he was about to escape Varrus, and now, could finally place himself in a position of leverage against his longtime foe.
Of course there was that pesky oath, but with it acting as an assurance, there was nothing she could do to him!
Grinning to himself, Xavius was expecting to see the beautiful woman of his dreams-waiting in her chambers on silken sheets-yet what awaited him was a surprise.
¡°That two timing green bitch double crossed me!¡± Xavius exclaimed in surprise as he emerged in between a sword and a breath attack.
Conjuring a pair of shields in each hand, Xavius reflected the breath relatively easily, however, the sword carried with it some sort of Light x Void energy that ate away at him!
Jumping back in surprise, Xavius couldn''t believe what just happened.
What had that skank Ysera tossed him into?!
Shaking his hand behind his back so that he wouldn''t be seen as a loser, Xavius leered at the person who dared to strike him.
Coated in a purple-gold aura, it turned out to be one beautiful babe.
Xavius licked his lips lasciviously as he recognized her.
¡°Ah, so you''re the wife. Your husband was a neat little snack, I can''t wait to get my hands on you.¡± Xavius taunted.
¡°You know where Varrus is?¡± The girl cocked her head to the side, and glared at him intensely.
¡°That''s right, doll. If you ever want to see your precious hubba hubba, then you''ll do exactly as I say. Why don''t you start things off by giving us a twirl.¡± Xavius took a step closer to establish dominance, and looked down on her like a predator assessing its prey.
¡°Where is he?!¡± Syra growled, her voice pierced the sound barrier, and caused Xavius to flinch.
Before he could say another word, and talk his way into her submission, the girl, Syra moved.
Xavius had just finished his mockery, and her sword was just about under his chin!
¡®Piss!¡¯ Xavius barely thought, and transformed himself into a shadow, sinking down to the ground like a 2 dimensional creature.
Flitting across the ground, Xavius felt witnessed the hot angry Elf''s rampage first hand. Whatever she struck, she erased, just like her husband!
The worst part of it was, Syra was no more than a Legendary Hero. Extremely strong, yes, but a demigod such as himself should be able to put up some kind of a fight. But her speed was astronomical, and that unique brand of magic was inconceivable!
¡®Ysera, you bitch, what have you done to me?!¡¯ Xavius internally raged as he was forced to slink and slither from place to place.
Wide beams of destruction cleaved apart the land, hundreds of Dragon-spawn and other dream-world creatures perished as Xavius used them for cover.
¡®I have to get out of here! That bodacious beauty is too much for now! My only escape is the temple! If I hide behind Ysera, she''ll have no choice but to fight beside me!¡¯ Xavius quickly planned out his escape.
However, before he could move another inch, he felt a magically enhanced boot stepping down on his leg.
Glancing up, he noticed another attractive woman. One who accumulated great fame in times past.
Wincing as he felt his leg snap, Xavius was forced back into his physical form, and glanced up at a woman that had haunted his nightmares.
¡°Oh, hello, Nightsong.¡± Xavius weakly waved up at the famed General.
¡°Xavius, it''s been too long.¡± Nightsong politely nodded, and ground her heel into his thigh, eliciting a hiss.
¡°Not long enough.¡± Xavius muttered to himself. ¡°I thought you were dead, it''s good to see you, this is truly a moment worthy of celebration! What brings you to these parts?¡± Xavius cheered. All the while, he was subtly gathering mana in his hands so that he could strike at her through her own shadow.
Nightsong coldly smiled, and lopped off both his arms with one precise, blindingly fast movement.
¡°Sonuvabitch!¡± Xavius growled trying to rise up, only to be shield bashed in the face back to the ground.
Teeth went flying everywhere, and blood jetted out of Xavius''s stumps like a faucet left to run all night.
¡°Enough with the theatrics. At your level, in this place, regrowing a limb is trivial.¡± Nightsong chided.
Xavius rolled his eyes, and reformed his limbs as if they had never been severed.
¡°However, if she were to sever your limbs, they would not grow back.¡± Nightsong gestured towards Syra who was standing nearby, her sword glowed ominously as it rested inches away from the crown of his head.
¡°Ladies, ladies, please. I think there is some sort of misunderstanding here. We''re all here to fight the Emerald Dragonflight, right? I''m just giving my support to you two fine women.¡± Xavius held his hands up as if he had done nothing wrong.
¡°Where. Is. He.¡± Syra harshly intoned.
¡°Woah, woah, woah, speaking monosyllabically, now that''s an affront to my ears!¡± Xavius joked.
¡°Answer the girl. 10, 9, 8, 7-¡± Nightsong began to countdown, offering him a clear cut and dry ultimatum.
Syra meanwhile, didn''t blink for an instant as she held her sword at the ready.
Xavius, meanwhile, was frozen in a rictus-like grin.
¡®Shit shit shit, what do I do? I can''t tell them Varrus was blasting my home to smithereens, and I already said I had dealt with him. If I told them he was with Ysera, there''s no way they''d believe me! Think, think!¡¯ Xavius panicked to himself.
¡°...5, 4, 3, 2-¡±
¡®I''ve got it!¡¯ Xvius thought to himself as he eyed the extremely emotional, vulnerable girl holding the massive buster sword.
All she needed was a little push.
¡°Times up.¡± The cold voice sounded, and the sword plunged forth.
¡°Wait! I''ll tell you where Varrus is!¡± Xavius shouted.
If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.
The blade halted, and Xavius felt the tip on his scalp, a rivulet of blood dripped down his forehead, and he could feel his mana sizzling as it collided with Syra''s.
This wasn''t an optimal position to be in, but being so close to her mana, it was probably for the best.
¡°Three seconds.¡± Nightsong intoned.
¡°Varrus isn''t here right now, because he''s in my dungeon! I defiled him, and he liked it!¡± Xavius lied out of his teeth.
¡°You lie!¡± Syra exploded with energy, her aura increased several fold, but also became more unstable.
¡°Gotchu.¡± Xavius laughed as the tip of the sword was about to enter his skull.
Eyes flashing with malicious intent, Xavius infiltrated Syra''s shield, and placed her under a geas. Then, like a djinn getting sucked into a lamp, Xavius''s spirit body flew into Syra''s ear, and infiltrated her dreams.
Nightsong had reached out, trying to stop it from happening, but she was caught off guard, and it was too late.
A second later, Xavius''s aura came from Syra, and the power of a demigod erupted from her.
¡°The King of Nightmares is back, baby!¡± Possessed-Syra roared in madness, and swung her blade at Nightsong with the intent to kill.
Using her shield, Nightsong parried the attack to the side, and had a worried expression on her face.
This excursion into the Emerald Dream to rescue Varrus had just transformed into a nightmare.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Flying on his carpet at breakneck speeds, Varrus arrived to the entrance of Ysera''s temple to find a stunning sight.
Energy exploded everywhere, and he witnessed his mother unleash a point blank Fus Roh Dah on Syra!
His wife, meanwhile, had slashed a powerful beam at Nightsong, that the General only just deflected thanks to her adamantium shield.
Utilizing the incredible speed granted by the enchanted gear, Syra moved in and clashed with Nightsong again and again. Each strike was heavy, with murderous intent.
Yet Nightsong seemed to be doing her best to hold back, and not injure Syra.
It only took a second for Varrus to realize Xavius was nowhere in sight, and that Ysera''s warning had come true.
Syra was very clearly not herself!
¡°So you''ve finally arrived! Just in time too! Tell this evil woman to back off, otherwise you won''t like what happens to your lovely wife!¡± A harsh voice came from Syra''s mouth.
Varrus felt his heart still as what he had feared came to pass.
¡°Varrus! So you are okay after all. A monster exploited Syra''s compromised emotional state. He is in her dreams as we speak!¡± Nightsong said as she clashed repeatedly with Syra.
Unwilling to let the Satyr threaten him, Varrus knew if he let this beast go, he would lose Syra forever. What he needed to do was get close, and cast Dispel Magic on Syra, and remove this shit stain from her conciseness.
¡°Omen, go. Attack with full force.¡± Varrus commanded.
¡°Awoo!¡± Omen charged forward, and began to saturate the entire area with a massive AOE spell of Starfall.
Moonbeams began to blast the ground, and churned up the already heavily damaged surroundings.
At the same time, Varrus jumped on his pet''s back, and cast Thundering Hooves so that they could match Xavius''s speed.
Possessed-Syra, who was locking blades with Nightsong grunted, and tried to get away, yet Nightsong held her in place.
¡°Let go, witch! If you don''t, we''ll both be crushed!¡± Xavius snarled.
¡°No price is too high to pay for my family.¡± Nightsong said, then unleashed a pointblank shout.
¡°Tiid. Bah. Dah!¡±
(Time. Wrath. Push.)
The Possessed-Syra suddenly found her movements to have slowed by an incredible margin.
Nightsong then jumped away, just as Omen pounced.
One enormous bus-sized paw came crashing down, smashing Syra into the ground.
¡°Hmrn!¡± Omen whined as his paw was pierced by the buster sword, Holy Void energy began to enter his system and deal some serious damage.
Varrus scowled as he cast Dispel Magic upon his furry friend.
He then jumped down next to Syra, to see her trapped under Omen''s immense strength.
The sword flashed, and cut at him, but Omen sacrificed more of his flesh to make sure the weapon wouldn''t budge.
¡°Don''t think I won''t kill her!¡± Xavius''s voice resounded in desperation.
Varrus blinked to Syra''s side, and looked at her sadly. He never thought he would fight his love like this. That she could be taken advantage of by someone so gruesome.
Holding out his hands, Varrus ignored the Satyr''s bleating, and cast Dispel Magic.
¡°Syra my dear, I release you from this curse.¡± Varrus muttered, and prepared himself to battle Xavius''s true form as soon as the blue light of the magic passed over her.
However¡nothing happened!
¡°Ha, ah ha, ha, you hold no power here, Varrus Vandercross. I have seen her memories, I know that this Dispel Magic spell of yours is not so effective against continuous spells! As soon as you cast that spell, I''ll simply redo my own! Your wife is mine!¡± Xavius crowed in triumph.
Balling his fists, Varrus looked down at the body of his wife as she cruelly laughed up at him.
Turning to Nightsong, his eyes practically begged her for a solution, but there was none forthcoming.
Placing a hand over his heart, Varrus almost felt like fainting. The fact that there was no easy solution for once, he felt helpless!
Ysera was no help, because she was still sealed. What was he to do?!
Varrus was shaking, and wanted to vomit at this situation. He felt physically ill.
Yet he refused to give up!
¡°It''s no use, I am the Nightmare King! Release me, boy, and your precious might just survive. I''ll even take an oath if it will soothe your soul!¡± Xavius mocked.
Varrus ignored this charlatan in favor of searching his skills and abilities. He needed something, anything that could free Syra from this awful man. Eventually, he found something that might just be what he needed!
Under his Illusion skill tree, he had two perks that might work for him.
Dream Thief, and Dream Geas.
If he was going to remove this cancer, it would have to be from within Syra''s dreams.
Turning to Nightsong, Varrus silently nodded his head, not wanting to vocalize his plan.
Nightsong, seeing that he had something in mind, squeezed his shoulder supportively.
Varrus let out a deep breath, then placed his hand on Syra''s forehead.
¡®Dream Geas!¡¯
A brilliant kaleidoscope of color burned his retina, and then blackness.
Blinking his eyes, Varrus found himself in a darkened cell.
Chained to the wall, a little Elven girl full of bruises was busily writing on a manuscript.
¡°How many times have I told you, Syra. You must use both hands.¡± A cultured woman in high heels said, and whipped her knuckles with a ruler.
The little girl, Syra flinched, and swapped her hand, yet when she was struck on the hand, Varrus felt as if he himself had been struck.
Recognizing the woman as Faedra, Varrus wondered if this was something Syra had experienced in the past?
Whatever it was, he did not like it.
The scene set his blood to a boil. If this was truly what Syra''s childhood had been like, then there was a beating lying in wait for Faedra in the near future.
Raising a hand, Varrus tried to push Faedra away, but found himself passing through her.
Frowning to himself, Varrus discovered he had no power over this scene. Even when he tried to blast the memory of Faedra with his Illusory Fire, it did no damage.
Unknowing what to do, Varrus recalled what he was here to do in the first place. To find and destroy Xavius!
That goat fucker was the cause of this, if he was slain, then all would go back to normal!
Casting Clairvoyance, Varrus was relieved that it pointed in a direction!
Sighing to himself, Varrus glanced once more at the troubled girl, and almost didn''t want to leave her.
Shaking his head in pity for the trials and tribulations Syra had undergone, Varrus steeled his heart and moved on.
He had to rescue her from this dire situation. When he did, he would shower her in hugs, kisses, and plenty of love.
¡®Hang on Syra, please! I''m coming for you!¡¯
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
AN: Read 30+ chapters ahead at:
Chapter 156
Opening the door to the dungeon, Varrus felt a tug on his sleeve. The silent little girl looked up at him with big bright eyes.
¡°You can see me, little one?¡± Varrus asked curiously.
Syra-thin as a rake-nodded her head, and pointed towards a very suspiciously dark spot along the wall.
Varrus didn''t know how he hadn''t noticed it before, but feelings of cold, and mystery radiated from that spot.
The child-Syra-took him by the hand, and tugged him towards it.
Varrus felt some apprehension, but was curious as to what this was. Was it an enemy, some conjuration of Xavius''s? Would its destruction free her of his malignant curse?
As he approached the mass of shadow, a crimson eyeball appeared.
Stilling in his steps, Varrus almost blasted the thing with fire. Even if it didn''t work against the illusory Faedra earlier, didn''t mean he wasn''t willing to try it against other things.
Before he decided what action to take, a familiar, otherworldly voice
¡°Ah, a Dragonborn. It is curious to find one such as you in such a place.¡±
¡°And you are the guardian of the unseen, and knower of the unknown. What are you doing in my wife''s dream, Hermaeus Mora?¡± Varrus wearily questioned.
¡°Aren''t you the intriguing one? It makes one ponder. But ah, if you know who I am, then you know that such information comes with a price.¡± Hermaeus spoke in a slow cadence, almost as if he were talking his thoughts out loud.
¡°Hermy and I are playing hide and go seek. He lost a bet, and has to be my friend. Do you want to be my friend too?¡± Syra cracked a smile up at Varrus.
¡°I am already your friend. I am Varrus.¡± Varrus smiled down at the girl, and ruffled her hair.
At the same time, Varrus used this action to mask his shock. What the hell kind of wager did they have, and how was Syra-dream or not-so comfortable around a Daedric Prince?!
Granted, this must not be more than a percent of that God-tier being, but still! Dude was literally a ball of shadow with an eye! He straight up looked like the main antagonist out of Full Metal Alchemist!
¡°Oh, please join us in our game! Hermy is fun to play with, but he likes to talk too much.¡± Syra beamed her eyes up at Varrus.
Looking down at the beaten, bruised, chained up girl, Varrus found he couldn''t say no.
Besides, while he wanted to use Clairvoyance to find Xavius, this dream world seemed to hold little logic. Who was to say he would find the Satry through such a cut and dry method?
If anything, working with this child Syra might just be her defense mechanism, and could lead him to his hated foe.
On top of that, this was an opportunity to converse with a Daedric Prince. That wasn''t something that happened every day!
¡°Very well, I''ll play along.¡± Varrus acquiesced.
¡°Yay!¡± Syra clapped her hands, and then reached over, and snapped the chains bunding her in place with mana enhanced fists.
Varrus''s ears twitched at the sound of the metal tearing. Yep, this was his wife all right. Even as a child, that gorilla strength was no joke!
¡°I suppose I have no say in this matter. Very well, Syra. Go ahead and hide, we shall search everywhere for you.¡± Hermaeus said in an exasperated tone.
Yet based on the cadence, it almost seemed like Hermaeus was-dare he say-acting like a doting uncle?!
¡°Okay, count to 100, then come find me!¡± Syra looked at Varrus and Hermaeus, then ran out of the room with a giggle.
Varrus took this time to examine the dungeon cell they were in, and found enchanted rods that induced pain/pleasure that could be found in his own family dungeon.
Finding he could interact with them, but not place them into his inventory, Varrus raised an eyebrow. Discreetly pocketing one, he turned to see the eyeball clad.
Hermaeus was staring at him without blinking.
Varrus stared back, refusing to be intimidated.
¡°Well, aren''t you going to start counting?¡± Hermaeus questioned.
Varrus rolled his eyes at the ridiculousness of an eldritch eyeball God doing something as ridiculous as hide and seek, but somehow it wasn''t the weirdest thing to have happened to him in this second life.
¡°1, 2, 3¡98, 99, 100¡±
¡°¡±Excelsior. Come along now Dragonborn.¡± Hermaeus floated towards the door and took the lead.
¡°I have a name, you know.¡± Varrus said as he followed behind.
¡°Is it really Varrus Vandercross?¡± The floating eye asked in a casual, conversational tone.
¡°Given your title, I assume you would like to know?¡± Varrus asked, well aware of Hermaeus¡¯s obsession with hoarding knowledge.
The eyeball stopped where it was, and turned to look at Varrus as if he were a simpleton.
¡°Say it.¡± Varrus grinned.
The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
If they were to ply one another with questions, Varrus had to establish some ground rules. Otherwise, he could find himself used by the Daedric Prince, and have nothing to show for it.
¡°Yes, I am interested.¡± Hermaeus''s shadow body bobbed up and down, as if he were nodding his head.
¡°It wasn''t, but it is now.¡± Varrus replied.
Now that over half a year had passed, Varrus had come to completely accept this new identity. Whilst he still had love for his family and very close friends on Earth, he had assimilated with this new world. Like an immigrant moving to a new country, he adopted Warcraft''s norms and customs.
Most importantly, he had a future here with a loving, obsessive wife, a silly best friend, a robust guard, and a strong mother.
He was Varrus Vandercross.
¡°How curious indeed. It makes one wonder what happened to the original Varrus, or if you were him all along. If I dissected you, and searched your soul, I wonder what such results would yield?¡± Hermaeus casually eyed Varrus up and down as if he were no more than a cut of beef to be butchered.
Varrus almost faltered in his step. No matter how powerful he had become, he didn''t necessarily want to land on a Daedric Prince''s radar. But this conversation was happening whether he liked it or not.
Without missing a beat, Varrus asked his question.
¡°What are you doing in my wife''s dream?¡±
¡°What a dull question. The child told you already. We are playing hide & go seek.¡± The eyeball replied, and phased through the door that was the exit to the dungeon.
Frowning to himself, Varrus opened the door, only to see that he was in a forest.
All around him were trees, and the vibrant sounds of nature.
Hermaeus was nowhere to be seen.
Pulling out Clairvoyance, Varrus tried to find either Syra, or Hermaeus, yet the blue line would start, only to stop a foot away from him.
Looking around, Varrus saw smoke on the horizon, and started to move towards the sight of habitation.
As he drew closer, his nose wrinkled as he recognized a peculiar scent.
It was blood.
Coming across a burnt out village, Varrus saw the mutilated and desecrated remains of decapitated Elves. It was clear that many of them had been sodomized before their deaths. A handful of Troll corpses rested nearby, showcasing who the perpetrators were.
Sighing to himself, Varrus had seen so many tragic sights like this, he no longer wretched at similar scenes, but he did feel pity for the victims.
In fact, he could hear their screams on the wind. Varrus wondered how young Syra was when she witnessed this heinous crime.
It was to prevent such things from ever happening to his people again that he took such drastic actions.
Pushing through the destruction, and picking up a discarded doll, Varrus heard the sound of insane, childish laughter coming from ahead.
Running into the forest, Varrus saw a slightly older, child-Syra gouging out an adult Troll''s eyes. She used his own dagger to slash his throat, and practically bathed in his blood.
Varrus clenched a hand over his heart, and felt that same dagger dangling over his chest as a necklace. It was the weapon she earned her first kill with, the bound item she had handed to him so that when they fought together in stealth, they would always know where each other''s position.
Just now, the shocked relief, tears, and blood covering Syra made him feel ill.
¡°Syra.¡± Varrus held out his hand for her, but the wild child ran away.
He tried to Blink after her, but found himself only 10ft forward. It would seem that non-Illusion attuned magic was severely nerfed in this dream within a dream.
¡°You didn''t try hard enough to catch her. A pity.¡± The shadowed eyeball, Hermaeus tutted from the side.
Floating down from the eaves of a tree, the Daedric Prince had seen it all.
Varrus ignored the Prince, and moved in the direction Syra had run off in.
Following a forest trail, Varrus emerged from out of the trees, and found himself on a brightly lit stage.
Covering his eyes from the blinding lights, a series of boos, and hisses greeted his ears.
¡°Get off the stage!¡±
¡°Such banal, clich¨¦ storytelling has never before befouled the drama halls of Silvermoon. Begone with you, spawn of Vandercross!¡± A cultured voice demanded.
Squinting his eyes, Varrus saw his critic getting his arm snapped by Rho''dan, and getting carried out of the venue by his trusted guards.
The boos and hisses decreased, but the aura of hostility was still strong among the crowd.
That is, all but one member in the audience were openly jeering.
Sitting in the shadows was the diminutive frame of a teenage slip of a girl.
Her full attention was on him.
Varrus, feeling as if he had to sing to her, noticed a few instruments on the stage beside him, and an idea began to hatch in his mind.
Having experience in enchanting instruments, Varrus got to work.
A slow, steady, almost melancholic beat began to play. He didn''t know the lyrics to many songs, but this one felt right.
He sang the song ¡®My Way¡¯ by Frank Sinatra. (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jmqb7_QuTXA)
As the words flowed through him, and the stringed instruments thrummed their subtle bass, Varrus recalled all the things that made him love and laugh at Syra. He took all that emotion, and poured them into his words.
Looking back, he couldn''t believe how crazy their relationship was. The first time he saw Syra, he was chained to a bed! She had threatened to kill her own mother, and was oh so scared that even the stiffest breeze would knock him over!
Then, he watched in awe as she tore through the Scourge horde like a wrecking ball. That beautiful, golden woman always turned back to make sure he was okay. Her duel against the Death Knight, Adonis had been incredible. To top it all off, she had practically jumped his bones after dominating the enemy.
She didn''t care about things like troop morale, or working as a team, she knew what she wanted, and she got it.
Syra, oh Syra, his adorable little murder machine had then told him she wanted twelve, TWELVE children!
To simulate this, she took to the orphans like a mother duck. So caring, so tender, she even proved a good teacher for Tess.
So considerate, so kind, she always had a new flower to show off to Varrus.
She was his sword when he lobbed magic from afar, his confidant when the tragedy got to him, and his closest companion.
Looking down at her in the crowd, Varrus felt his heart swell as he reached the crescendo of the song.
¡°For what is a man, what has he got?
If not himself, then he has naught
To say the things he truly feels
And not the words of one who kneels
The record shows I took the blows
And did it my waaaay!¡±
Closing his eyes, Varrus let the instruments reach their peak, then stared Syra in the eyes as he uttered the last line of the song.
¡°Yes. It was my way.¡±
Chapter 157
[AN: The MC does not have the potential bad future happen to him this chapter.]
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
After finishing the song, Varrus experienced several more flashes through Syra''s past.
He witnessed:
A time dilated training montage of Syra swinging her sword for literal days. Posters of him, and scrying orbs of his performances were her constant companion.
Her first time fighting against the Orcs, and the mass casualties of the Alliance.
Syra stalking him, only to get rebuffed by Rho''dan.
Her peaceful hobby of collecting flowers, and pressing them into her diary.
He even saw from Syra''s perspective, the ¡®playboy¡¯ persona in full tilt as he hit on other beautiful Elves, only to have them all reject him without fale. It was incredibly embarrassing to realize just how unpopular he had been within Highborn society.
Varrus witnessed these things and many more as he chased after the little girl version of Syra that he had met when he first entered her dream. All the while, the floating shadowed orb with an eye, Hermaeus was his constant companion.
The Daedric Prince, Varrus found, was poor company, and would never volunteer information, nor answer anything unless he was satisfied. In the games, this might seem endearing, but in reality, it was a headache and a half to deal with someone like this.
He was beginning to understand why so many other Daedric Princes, and people in the Elder Scrolls had such a low opinion of the tentacled horror. Know-it-alls were a pain in the ass no matter the universe.
After experiencing the ups and downs of Syra''s life, Varrus came upon a scene that had him feel some melancholy.
It was their wedding.
He hadn''t actually transmigrated until later in the day, so from his perspective, he had completely missed this event.
Watching up close, he saw that from this venue, the ceremony was taking place at the Vandercross Estate in the square. Tons of people were mingling, and it was like any other high class party.
However, Syra. Syra was radiant. She was smiling almost every second, and her white dress clung to her body, exposing all her curves.
It was only thanks to their constant cohabitation that he could tell she was a little nervous. Honestly, she was adorable. So often, Syra was a bundle of confidence, and overwhelming strength. Through all the scenes he had witnessed, she always pulled through, no matter how tough or challenging. Syra was maniacal in her obsession with him, and where others would have fallen, she had willed herself to the finish line. This was her big day, but even so, she was giddy, nervous, and perhaps even a little scared at the thought of rejection.
¡°Oh Syra.¡± Varrus said aloud to himself in pity.
He had seen her go through so much, it was heartbreaking. In a way, he was glad he could fill the role of husband. Not only for himself, but for her.
Shaking his head, Varrus glumly watched on as Syra all but dragged past-Varrus into their bridal chambers after they had made their marriage official.
¡°Are you going to sit still and let him have his way with her?¡± Hermaeus tilted his eye to the side, and questioned.
¡°I''m done playing your game, Hermaeus, if you aren''t going to help me find Xavius, then just go.¡± Varrus, done with Hermaeus¡¯s shit, tiredly waved the eldritch ball away.
He had gone through dozens of scenarios by this point, and was beginning to feel anxious. Varrua felt as if the more areas of Syra''s past became exposed, the closer he was coming to ending this farce. If the annoying know-it-all wasn''t going to be helpful, then Varrus wouldn''t bother giving it the time of day.
¡°Suit yourself. I found little Syra, but it seems you are much more smooth than I had given you credit for. Farewell Dragonborn.¡± Hermaeus simply stated, then faded out of existence.
¡®Did he just call me smooth brained?!¡¯ Varrus eyed the spot where Hermaeus had been a moment ago.
¡®No, wait, that was an ominous warning if I ever heard one. What did he mean by him? Was that not dream-Varrus?!¡¯ Varrus thought to himself and took a panicked breath.
Holding up a hand, Varrus instinctively cast Clairvoyance.
¡®Point me Xavius.¡¯
Although the magic was severely subdued, a short blue line directed Varrus towards the bridal chambers.
That sonuvabitch was planning on defiling his wife!!!
Varrus saw red, and began to sprint towards his room in a frenzy.
He tried to Blink there, but moved only a foot forward.
¡®Damn, damn, damn!¡¯ Varrus thought to himself.
Every second wasted was an opportunity for that sick bastard. Like hell he would allow this to happen!
However, the party goers began to mob around him, and prevented him from advancing.
At first, Varrus thought he could just run through them, just like how he couldn''t hit Faedra with his magic, he should be able to phase through them as if they were holograms; however, they were solid to the touch!
Without hesitation, he tried to blast them apart with Illusory Flames, but it was having no effect!
Varrus ducked under a fireball, and felt its heat, he then sidestepped a sword, and felt the song of steel whoosh past his ear.
Drawing his own sword, he tried to parry a blade with his own sword, but for his troubles, he caught a glancing blow on his forearm!
His protective enchantments proved fruitless within this dream within a dream, and he was at risk of death!
Even when Warriors Flame proc''d and began to heal him, it did so at a very slow rate! If he played this incorrectly, he could very easily be mobbed, and murdered by this group of low-level trash!
The current situation had Varrus feel as if he were fighting with a pool noodle against a 100 guys dressed in plate armor wielding real weapons.
However, all was not lost.
Varrus recalled the pain stick he had filched from the dungeon, he thought he could use that to disarm an Elf, then steal their weapon.
Pulling the stick out of his robes, Varrus eyed the crowd of roughly 100 Highborn, and got to work.
Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.
Running to the side so that he could evade a hail of icicles, Varrus moved towards one of the swordsmen, and flipped over his horizontal slice. In one fluid motion of perfect acrobatics, he jabbed the stick towards the illusory guest''s hand, and set it to maximum pain.
¡®Please work.¡¯ Varrus thought to himself.
If this weapon failed, then he would truly be lost.
The tip of the stick glowed a bright white, and when it made contact with the swordsman, he howled in pain, and released his weapon.
¡®Success!¡¯ Varrus cheered to himself.
As he came down from his frontflip, Varrus held out his hand, and caught the falling blade.
Spinning around, he decapitated the apparition, parried a fireball to the side, and swept kicked a chair into an oncoming Arcane blast.
The explosion from the Arcane energy sent him stumbling backwards, and Varrus found himself next to a table full of cake and silverware.
Dozens of party guests were advancing towards him, and were seconds away from unleashing low-level, yet in this case, lethal, spells.
Thinking fast, Varrus picked up a handful of silverware, and applied a bit of telekinesis to them.
His magic seemed to be limited to within a foot of himself, but that didn¡¯t mean it was utterly useless!
As his spell touched the cutlery, forks & knives left his hands like a shotgun spread.
One Elf caught a fork to the forehead, and fell down dead as the prongs shook in his forehead. Another collapsed in a puddle of blood as a knife punctured her chest.
That one action slew a dozen, yet 80% of the crowd remained.
Ducking behind the table, Varrus used it as cover for a second, and kept sprinting to the side as explosions happened all around him.
Without his ability to Blink limited, and his armor spells/enchantments not working in this odd realm, closing with the enemy to engage in melee was incredibly risky.
As someone who was on the lower end of the speed spectrum, it was much more difficult for him to bulldoze his way in for a melee kill.
Furthermore, not only was his magic restricted, but in this dream within a dream, he felt like he was as strong as when he first transmigrated. Or rather, he had the strength and abilities of a basic Elf.
It was a situation like this that made Varrus realize that he should always carry a spare set of armor in his inventory at all times.
Once he was done here, he would have to scavenge Thaladred and Doomhammer''s corpses for their adamantium armor!
But for now, he needed an equalizer.
Out of all his spells, there was one branch of magic that might be effective in this realm. It was the magic of Akatosh, the Dragon Shouts!
¡°Tiid. Klo. Ul!¡±
Varrus commanded time to slow down.
Once he did this, the foes that were bombarding him seemed like they were moving through molasses.
Confident that he could dodge all of their attacks, Varrus began to cut through the wedding guests like the trash mobs they were.
Swords and spells fell down all around him in an attempt to end his life, but thanks to the Shout, Varrus easily evaded them.
Within a couple of minutes, they were all dead.
As soon as the last body dropped, he exited the state of slowed time, and his Shout went on cooldown.
Varrus didn''t have time to celebrate his victory, as Xavius was still threatening his wife at this very moment!
¡°Hurry, catch me Varrus.¡± The little girl version of Syra urged Varrus on, and ran into the mansion ahead of him.
Heart pounding, and veins filled with fear for his woman, Varrus ran up the stairs to his estate like a man possessed.
Entering the main lobby, he was stopped by the sight of a devilish woman.
Clad in black silks, and sauntering down a grand staircase, the sound of high heels echoed within the room.
Sipping on a goblet of wine, a dream version of Faedra made herself known.
¡°Well my dear, you made it. You''re so handsome, powerful, creative. Why don''t you make me yours? Take me, Varrus Vandercross, and I''ll make every woman on Azeroth worship you.¡± Faedra picked an olive out of her glass, and seductively suckled on it, and her finger as she spoke.
The woman oozed sex, and a sweet smelling perfume dazed Varrus''s senses.
He felt his member thump against his robes, begging to get out, yet he clamped down on such desire.
Varrus shook his head, and channeled his outrage to break himself from her charm. He even cast Dispel Magic, but it didn''t seem that she was casting any spells! Faedra was just that hot.
As the first Elf he had ever seen upon his transmigration, it would be a lie if he said he didn''t find the femme fatale to be attractive. However, the thought of sleeping with his mother-in-law sent a shiver down his spine, and his hardened woody was no more.
Refusing to let her get into his head, Varrus silently prowled forward, and held his sword in a guarded position.
¡°Oh honey, what we could have been. With my connections and spies, it all would have been resolved. All you would have to do is give me those fancy enchanted pieces of gear, and I would have killed all your foes. Meanwhile, you could have sat back in Silvermoon, and basked in the Sunwell while a dozen maidens served you.¡± Faedra tutted as she finally came down the grand entrance''s staircase.
Flickering a dagger in one hand, Faedra then dashed at Varrus with extreme speed.
Fortunately for him, this was not the real Faedra, as she did not attack from stealth, nor was she using any magic.
In short, she was a poor man''s version of the famed assassin.
¡°I don''t have time for this shit.¡± Varrus muttered, then Shouted the words to Become Ethereal.
¡°Feim. Zii. Gron!¡±
As soon as Faedra''s dagger passed through Varrus''s intangible form, he reversed his sword, and plunged it through the back of her skull.
Without looking back, Varrus ran up the stairs to his bedroom.
Fortunately, there were no more delays, and he made it in record time.
Kicking open his door with a bang, Varrus caught sight of ¡®himself¡¯ wearing Xavius''s face. The goatfucker had his pants down, and was about to spread Syra''s legs!
Without breaking momentum, Varrus let loose a wordless howl, and charged at the Satyr¡¯s back.
As the tip of his blade was about to make a clean cut across the back of Xavius''s neck, he turned and smiled at Varrus.
With a snap of his finger, the illusory blade he had been wielding disappeared.
When Varrus''s fists carried forth with the momentum, he tried to strangle Xavius, but found much to his shock and horror, they went through him as if he were a hologram!
¡°Ha! I am the King of Nightmares, boy! You hold no power here! Now helplessly watch as I dominate your loving wife! Once my magic has penetrated her, she will be mine forever!¡± Xavius laughed at Varrus, then turned back to Syra.
Eyes running red, Varrus''s breath became hyperventilatory, and he searched his menu desperate for something, anything that would work in this situation! The emotion inducing torture stick would likewise be useless here, as it was just another item of the dream.
It was then that child Syra dropped down from the ceiling, and landed in front of him.
¡°You found me!¡± The girl giggled, then poked Varrus on the chest.
With a giggle, she then disappeared like a mirage.
Varrus blinked his eyes, wondering if there had been some purpose to this stupid game of hide-and-go-seek. Looking down to where she had poked him, Varrus felt something sharp digging into his skin.
Pulling up his robe, Varrus found the gift Syra had bequeathed unto him. It was the weapon of her first murder!
Eyes going wide, Varrus recalled this very same weapon slaying a Troll earlier in the dream sequence! Yet this was the real thing. One imbued with all of Syra''s complex emotions!
¡°Ha ha ha! You are mine Syra!¡± Xavius laughed uproariously as he thrust his hips forward.
Xavius was about to do the unspeakable, but the flash of steel rang true, and his blood soaked member flew into the air.
¡°Eeee-ahhhh!¡± Xavius squealed, and recoiled in pained shock.
Varrus didn''t let up for a moment, and worked the dagger like a madman.
He plucked out the Satyr''s eyes, removed his limbs. then cut off his balls, and shoved them down his throat.
Mimicking the torture skills of his guards, Varrus tried his best to prolong the Satyr''s punishment, but after only half an hour, the torment came to an end.
Caked in blood, and looking somewhat crazy, Varrus spat on Xavius as this hated enemy finally died.
The ping of a Soul Gem entered his notifications, and the world exploded with color as Varrus exited Syra''s dream.
Chapter 158
Leaving Syra''s dream, Varrus opened his eyes, and felt a tight, bone crushing embrace wrap around his chest and spine.
Looking down, Varrus saw blonde hair, and tears.
¡°There, there.¡± Varrus patted Syra on the head, and messily ruffled her hair.
¡°I came to rescue you, but you were the one who found me. I failed you by being late against Nozdormu, now I failed you again.¡± Syra''s tears continued to pour down her face as she rubbed her cheek on his chest, like some sort of cat or loveable household pet.
¡°You¡¯re here now. That''s better than anyone else can say.¡± Varrus said in a hushed whisper.
Raising her by the chin, Varrus tenderly kissed Syra on the lips. Her hot breath mixed with his, and Varrus couldn''t help but grin.
¡°You rogue.¡± Syra clunked her forehead onto his, the beginnings of a small smile started to blossom across her face.
¡°Ruff, ruff!¡± Omen barked, and wagged his tail.
Running up and circling the couple, Omen sniffed at Syra, and happily nuzzled up against both her and Varrus.
Syra froze, and narrowed her eyes at the mutt.
Varrus was quick to place his hand behind her waist, and hold her close, lest she react with violence.
¡°This is Omen, a new pet companion I made during this excursion into the Emerald Dream. He''ll make an excellent playmate, and guardian for our children.¡± Varrus hastily explained.
¡°Arf!¡± Omen happily barked, and sniffed at Syra''s hand.
¡°Go on, give him a pet. He''s a good boy, and saved my life in a fight earlier.¡± Varrus talked up Omen''s accomplishments for good measure.
Syra reluctantly held out her hand, and scratched the golden retriever under the chin.
Omen leaned into her, and wagged his tail merrily at the attention.
Varrus sighed in relief as this support dog seemed to draw in Syra''s curiosity.
Omen''s insane doggo energy was quite infectious.
Looking at his wife, his heart tightened. He wondered how aware she was of what had transpired within her dream. Or perhaps it was an episode best forgotten. What had almost happened was the worst outcome of his entire second life. If she didn''t bring it up, it wasn''t something he wanted to dwell upon.
What mattered is they were together again. Because as long as they were with one another, there wasn''t anything they couldn''t take on.
Holding Syra close, it was Varrus''s turn to feel emotional.
His beautiful wife looked incredibly adorable as she ran her long fingers through Omen''s fur.
Such a scene made him want kids more. That was her dream, and if it would make Syra happy, then he would have to oblige.
Sighing to himself, Varrus glanced around, and took in the area around him.
In his mad flight over here, he never really paid attention to the scenery, but now that he had a moment to spare, he saw that he was within an idyllic grove.
Surrounded by towering trees and wide open clearings, a massive marble temple-more fortress than place of worship-loomed above him just a few miles away. Vines, moss, fog, and other overgrowth covered this mysterious looking structure.
Flying about a mile away, a group of Dragons and their spawn seemed to be eying his group wearily.
Meanwhile, Nightsong was a few steps away, a canvas was in front of her, and she was painting the scene.
Valanar, for his part, had emerged from a tunnel, his giant worm companion was shrank down, and he was watching everything from a healthy distance away.
It was during this moment of inspection, that a green light flashed on the horizon, and a massive Green Dragon flew out of the temple.
Varrus surmised that it could be none other than Ysera, Aspect of Dreams, and leader of the Green Dragonflight.
Syra also seemed to notice this, and rose up from petting Omen, then drew her buster sword.
¡°Grrr.¡± Omen''s tail froze, and he turned to growl at the one who interrupted his head pats.
As she drew near, the Dragon landed to a spot a few feat away, and transformed into that attractive, scantily clad High Elf that Varrus had communicated with earlier.
¡°Greetings, Varrus, Syra, Nightsong, Valanar, and Omen. As you have likely guessed, I am Ysera. I apologize for the misunderstanding, and hope we can come to form an alliance. I am eternally grateful to all of you for freeing me from Xavius''s prison.¡± The lady deeply bowed, and smiled radiantly at them.
Expecting his wife to try something funny after such a beautiful woman made herself known, Varrus barely held Syra back from rushing headlong at Ysera. Wrapping his arms around her waist from behind, Varrus held her tight, and barely placated her with a kiss.
¡°Yes, we saved you, Lady Ysera, and it was no easy feat. With Xavius''s demise, the Emerald Dream is free once more. We of the Covenant are always seeking new allies, what is it that the Green Dragonflight has to offer?¡± Varrus asked in as diplomatic a tone as he could.
It was rather difficult and felt strange, what with his wife being held in his arms. But he could care less. This whole venture into the Emerald Dream had been an unexpected, almost nightmare.
If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
Ysera had better come up with a good proposal, otherwise he would very seriously consider a fight. While he was mentally exhausted from all the tomfoolery Xavius had put him through, he still had some fight in him.
Besides, with Omen and Nightsong fighting at the demigod tier, he was confident against any lone demigod.
¡°Yes, the entirety of Azeroth owes you a debt, Varrus Vandercross. Xavius planned on merging the dreamworld with reality, such an event would surely spell doom.
As for our alliance, while the Green Dragonflight is small in number, I have much to offer. The dreams of Azeroth''s denizens offer a plethora of information, ripe for your perusal. If there is something you want known, it shall be yours. With the power of dreams, your enemies shall suffer nightmares, and all your allies shall experience a good night''s sleep.
Additionally, the Emerald Dream can be used to swiftly travel between locations, and used as a communications hub. Occasionally, the dreams of creatures from other planes breach this realm, and travel to other locations, unlocking new and unique magics/resources becomes a possibility.
Lastly, my final offer to you is knowledge of a different sort. Time is experienced more quickly in this realm, every minute spent here is 10 seconds on Azeroth. This is an ideal state for studying. I invite the members of the Covenant to enter the Emerald Dream, and study in my vast library. The druids, and other members of my flight have recorded history, rhetoric, natural truths, and dreams of futures past.¡± Ysera finished her offer of alliance by bowing, and looked at Varrus with a hopeful expression.
As she was speaking, Varrus internalized her offer.
Simply speaking, it was actually pretty good. While there was no direct promise of military aid, she practically offered herself to become his spy master. Such an offer wasn''t exactly trustworthy given her track record, but between Rho''dan & Faedra, he already had two sources of information. Adding a third wouldn''t be such a bad idea.
Heck, countries like the US had the FBI, CIA, NSA, and God knows how many other intelligence agencies. As far as Varrus was concerned, the more the merrier.
Another thing Ysera said that struck home with him, was actually the offer of good sleep. A genocidal plague and zombie apocalypse had just swept through the Eastern Kingdoms. It could not be understated how important a night of rest was for the people. Mega PTSD was sure to be a result of the Scourge invasion, and while he may be a bit of an asshole, that didn''t mean he wanted the people to suffer. This was lowkey, a great offer.
Moving on, using the dream as a means to communicate vast distances, or even possibly hop from one end of the world to the next was significant. It could not be understated how important swift communication and travel were when conducting war. Elven portals and scrying orbs filled this role for the Covenant at the moment, but the Emerald Dream would serve as an excellent alternative. Varrus once again was of the mind that you could never have enough backups and contingency plans.
As for the implication that the dreams of other planes sometimes entered this realm¡yeah, that was something Varrus didn''t want to touch with a 12ft stick. He had enough shit on his plate to deal with without messing with other realms. What if it was a dream from Oblivion, or the Twisting Nether? Yeah, no thanks.
Now the library actually didn''t interest Varrus whatsoever. He felt pretty comfortable with his knowledge of Warcraft lore, and couldn''t see himself using it. However, it would serve as a valuable resource for the super nerds in his empire. The likes of Telonicus, and Tae''thelon would salivate over such a place. In Varrus''s vision of a unified coalition of races under the Covenant, he had always wanted to establish a university where they could come together and learn. This could serve as the ideal place for them to gather.
What really interested Varrus in that last statement of Ysera''s was the mention of the time dilation.
That was a 6 to 1 difference! Every 6 seconds in the dream, 1 second passed in reality. That was patently insane! While it didn''t seem like much on the surface, it was significant!
If 24hrs had 86,400 seconds in it, then by dividing by 6, that''s 14,000s OR only 4hrs!!!
Every 24hrs spent in the Emerald Dream was 4hrs in reality!
This was big news to Varrus because he still felt pressure to grind. This latest experience when his enchanted items failed to work taught him that his base stats were incredibly important. That without his gear, he was probably no better than a low to mid-tier Hero in terms of strength.
With this time delay, it would grant him an excellent opportunity to raise his level. Soul Gems were great and all, but it would be best not to forget what had made him strong in the first place.
Thinking all these complex thoughts, Varrus caught himself staring blankly into nothing, and realized Ysera had finished speaking at least an entire minute ago.
¡°Ahem, that is quite the substantial offer, Lady Ysera. Please, grant me a moment to think it over. For now, however, it sounds like the beginnings of an excellent alliance.¡± Varrus said in an even tone, and pulled away to discuss this with his family.
¡°I am happy you find such an arrangement so amenable. Before you go, I noticed you haven''t acclimated to the dream yet, and only your illusion magic remains untouched. As a sign of appreciation and good faith, please, allow me to unlock your potential.¡± Ysera said, and then with a few muttered words chanted the words to a spell.
Before Varrus realized what was happening, he felt a green glow suffuse his body. A moment later, he checked his status, and noticed that his debuff was gone! He could now cast any type of magic within the dream with impunity!
¡°My thanks, Lady Ysera.¡± Varrus inclined his head.
¡°I shall await your decision.¡± Ysera smiled.
Varrus felt Syra bristle, yet his wife allowed herself to be carried away.
As he walked to a clearing out of ear shot, Varrus cast a shroud of Muffle over his group.
¡°So what do you all think?¡± Varrus eyed his companions, and spoke with as neutral a tone as possible.
¡°She is crafty. An alliance would serve as a great boon, however, such a creature requires constant tests and scrutiny.¡± Nightsong offered her advice.
Varrus nodded his head in thanks, then turned his head to Syra.
His loveable wife wasn''t looking at him, and in fact, was staring daggers towards Ysera.
¡®Yeah, not touching that one.¡¯
¡°Valanar?¡± Varrus questioned.
¡°Hm? I didn''t know I was part of this?¡± Valanar whimsically played with a butterfly and looked at Varrus with a perplexed expression.
¡°...Never mind.¡± Varrus sighed, and face palmed.
It was times like this that he wished his number one adviser and confidant was present.
Pulling out his scrying orb, Varrus tried to see if Rho''dan had ever replied.
¡®Huh, that''s odd. Rho''dan is always so prompt.¡¯
Varrus frowned to himself, and began to worry that his stalwart guard had gotten himself into trouble. He was going to ask Ysera if she could track him, or spot him in the dream, when suddenly, the entire realm began to shake.
¡°Ysera, what is happening!¡± Varrus yelled at the Green Dragon matriarch.
When he turned to look at her, he saw that the beautiful woman''s face had a look of fear and panic on it.
¡°Mine was not the only seal Xavius had in place. With his death, another was broken. But I don''t understand, I placed a seal over his back then, only true loves kiss can break it!¡± Ysera said in a panic, and pulled at her hair.
Varrus narrowed his eyes. He then recalled Merithra, her obsession with Rho''dan, and the fact that Omen had focused on killing her over all else.
¡°Ysera, get a hold of yourself. Who has been freed?¡± Varrus harshly questioned, barely holding himself back from slapping some sense into her.
¡°The Avatar of Vaermina.¡± Ysera coldly whispered.
Chapter 159
(Hours Earlier)
Rho''dan snapped his eyes open, and found himself in an unfamiliar place.
The last he remembered, he was battling with some gangly faceless man. Upon his triumph over the other Hero, he was ambushed, and blacked out. Based upon the sound of the wing beat of his ambusher, it was likely the obsessive Dragon, Merithra, that had ambushed him.
Now, he was here. Wherever here was.
Rho''dan stoically assessed his current situation.
He was currently dressed in a simple tunic, and seated in a large, comfortable chair. Upon which, cold metal manacles clamped onto his legs, limiting the flow of his mana.
A single lamp hanging from above dimly illuminated a small room.
Within this place, Rho''dan couldn''t see beyond perhaps ten feet from his current position. The edges of this domain-where the light didn''t touch-seemed as if they were occupied by a thin, intangible film of living shadow.
Rho''dan surmised that some spatial law was at play, and that this lamp was keeping something at bay. Straining his ears, Rho''dan attempted to glean some information from what this something was, but this act proved to be fruitless.
However, the cord holding the lamp to the black ceiling caught his eye. If he could get his hands on it, he might be able to form a thin wire, and pick the lock to his restraints.
Continuing his examination, Rho''dan noticed that directly below the lamp there was a small, simple wooden table. The only thing of note about it, was that a chessboard had been set on top of it.
Across from him was an unoccupied chair. Leaning against said chair, were his set of armor, weapons, and mageweave bag. Interestingly, there was also a ball of yarn. Whoever had placed it there must know him well, as secretly, knitting was his favorite hobby.
Acting under the premise that he was being watched, Rho''dan leaned down to scratch his shin, at the same time, he tested to see if he could lift or slide his seat. Yet he was disappointed to find it was bolted to the ground. However, during this inspection, he also got a good look of the table''s underside. Long scratch marks marred the wooden frame. It would seem he was not the only victim to have occupied this seat.
Complete with his observation, Rho''dan closed his eyes, and silently folded his arms in front of himself. He decided to patiently await his host to make themselves known, as they had brought him here for a purpose.
Eventually, Varrus would rescue him, or he would make his own escape¡and should he perish, then so be it. Rho''dan had honored his oaths to Vandercross. He did not fear death.
Taking a deep breath, Rho''dan wrinkled his nose as a new scent entered the room.
Slowly opening his eyes, Rho''dan noticed someone had occupied the seat in front of him.
Curiously, he had smelt her, yet his keen sense of hearing had picked nothing up.
Eying the suspected kidnapper, Rho''dan admitted to himself, she was an attractive woman.
Possessing pale white skin that one might almost call grey, she had Elven ears, and reminded Rho''dan of the Darkfallen. Yet there was a vibrancy to her that was unmistakably alive. Her hair, lipstick, outfit, and eyes were all purple violet.
Clearly theming was very important to this host of his. In fact the seat she sat upon had purple upholstery.
Filing away this knowledge for later, Rho''dan knew that such people typically expected events to go a certain way. And if they didn''t go according to plan-that events didn''t fit exactly in their perfect box of ideas-then they overreacted. Typically this outburst resulted in sudden violence, screaming, sobbing, or all of the above. Keeping this in mind, Rho''dan wondered how he might exploit this character trait in the near future.
Meanwhile, the beautiful woman sitting down across from him had a hand on her hip, and wore an exasperated expression on her face. On the other hand, she took a puff from a long pipe, and softly exhaled the smoke, mixing the odor of her perfume with that of tobacco.
Tapping her pipe into a tray, the woman glared at Rho''dan.
It seemed as if she recognized him, and was irate that he was looking at her so woodenly.
Rho''dan wasn''t one for sighing, like Varrus, but he certainly felt uncomfortable at the situation he found himself in. This wasn''t the first time he had been held under duress by a beautiful woman.
He would have to exert the best of his wits if he was to manage another escape.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
From within the darkness of the room, Vaermina, Daedric Prince of Nightmares inhabited her Avatar in the form she most liked. When she came to Azeroth, she had entered through the land of dreams. Yet the Titans and their minions had sealed her true power, leaving her but a fragment of what she was capable of.
They feared she would merge her realm, Quagmire, with the Emerald Dream. To bring ruin and despair upon the land. To convert the nascent spirit of Azeroth into something of her own design.
In truth, Vaermina was tempted to do just that, however, all she really wanted to do was travel beyond Oblivion, and see for herself the denizens of this world. It was something of a hobby of hers to peer into the dreams of others. Why people had ascribed her as the Queen of Nightmares, she didn''t know. As only those with a guilty conscience would suffer when they dreamt. It wasn''t her fault that they found themselves in Quagmire.
Tsking to herself, Vaermina hated the positive reputation Meridia had with the mortals, and wished they thought similarly of her. Especially on this plane. They all blindly praised the Light, but did any of them truly understand where the Light came from? Or who had co-opted it for their use?
At the end of the day, this Avatar had remained all but useless, sealed in the Emerald Dream. Bored, she had taken on a moniker similar to her sister''s, Merithra. Weakened in power, she could only visit one dream a night, and her influence was less than that of a novice dreamweaver.
It was by fate that she had stumbled upon a young warrior one night. The thin teen was being abused by his master, an armored knight obsessed with researching enchantments.
Vaermina took pity on him, and saw much of herself in the way he silently took the abuse. When she split from her father, Magnus, she was scorned by her 8 other sisters for being a dimly lit star. This experience had shaped her, and for ages past, she had always felt that she was in the shadow of her siblings. It was why she retreated to the realm of dreams and infinite possibilities. In a place like this, anything could happen, anyone could look like anything, and anyone could be her friend.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
It was this very search for friends that had her approach the young Rho''dan. Every night, she would soothe him. Some days, they would do nothing but gaze at the stars of long dead galaxies, others they would ride out into the night upon mythical steeds. Above all, they liked playing chess, and knitting clothes.
Yet for all their merriment, Rho''dan eventually grew into adulthood, and such fanciful dreams no longer took his interest. Every day, his subconscious pushed her out of his dreams every day. The more he grew in power, the less she had the ability to interact with him. Limited as she was, she eventually lost contact with Rho''dan.
Then when all seemed hopeless, she had met another person being tortured by fate. Xavius the Satyr had promised her friendship and goodwill. But that relationship had ended in tragedy, and a second seal limiting her power even more had been placed over her.
But now, things were sure to change. Sitting in her room, the object of her affection had finally become hers.
Examining Rho''dan as he came to, Vaermina watched him take note of his manacles, the lamp wire, as well as the subtle shift of the chair as he tried to move it.
She wondered what his reaction would be if he ever cut out the light?
After a few minutes had passed, the stoic redhead closed his eyes, and was patiently awaiting her arrival.
Vaermina smiled as she drank in his rugged appearance. Well sculpted muscles covered his tanned form, and a scar ran across his face. Such a mark may turn off holier than thou women, like her sister, Meridia. But Vaermina was familiar with scars.
Lightly grasping at her ring finger, Vaermina''s breath tightened, yet she didn''t allow the past to weigh her down.
Sitting in front of her was the object of her dreams. Rho''dan was a fine specimen of a man. Loyal to a fault, always willing to do what needed to be done, a creative interrogator, and wrangler of the child Vandercross. He radiated single father energy, and she sensed the same loneliness in him that she found in herself.
Lighting up her favorite pipe, Vaermina sat down, and was pleased when he noticed her scent.
She internally preened, and awaited his customary greeting.
Yet after a moment of silence, his blank face began to irk her.
Feeling as if her heart had been pierced, Vaermina blew a smoke ring on Rho''dan''s face, she then silently moved a piece on the chessboard. It was an open she had done thousands of times.
The subtle clack of the piece seemed to echo in the tiny quiet room, yet the strong redhead gave no indication that he was interested in playing their once upon a time most favorite game.
Seeing that he required some motivation, Vaermina looked the man in the eyes, and parted her lips.
¡°Should you win, I will grant you your heart''s desire. However, if I emerge victorious, you must do something for me. Your first move acts as the seal to this agreement.¡±
Rho''dan furrowed his brow, then replied by moving a piece forward after a moment of thought.
Vaermina inclined her head, then began the game in earnest.
Back and forth, they silently dueled, taking piece after piece.
The only noise being the clickity clack of their pieces. Between this motion, the pauses between each move became lengthier as they stopped to consider their next move.
Vaermina smiled as she watched Rho''dan shift to one side. It was through years of careful observation that she knew this to be his thinking pose.
There were very few pieces on the board at this time, and a mistake now could very easily determine the victor.
Sadly smiling at the man, Vaermina wanted to keep him here forever. Yet she was not that kind of woman.
Taking a deep inhale from her pipe, she relished the time she spent with him, and drank in his appearance. It was nice to see him again.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Rho''dan played the game of chess as if his life depended on it.
Every piece she had taken was a sacrifice, one with the sole goal of checkmating her king.
The intense match seemed to drag on for quite some time, yet the more he played, the more he felt as if he had done these exact same moves before.
This was an odd sense of deja vu, as he had never really gotten into chess, and couldn''t remember the last time he had played a match.
Looking at his opponent, Rho''dan wondered if he had ever been under mind control, or perhaps drugged with a love potion. Because when he looked at her mature form, and the poise with which she carried herself with, it surprised him how attractive she seemed.
As someone who had interacted with crazy ex''s a dozen times throughout the centuries, this was new.
It was only through his dedication and belief in House Vandercross that he could hold himself back from conversing with her. While she was pretty, and based upon this game of chess, highly intelligent, his logical side would not allow himself to be swayed by emotion.
Watching her slumped shoulders, the disappointment in his failure to recognize her, it was like watching a sad, lonely, unloved puppy. A puppy that Rho''dan felt like it was his, but had been claimed by someone else.
Feeling his heartstrings tighten, Rho''dan exhaled a breath of bad air, and focused on the game. A magical contract had encompassed both of them as soon as he started playing. Whoever lost would have to honor their word.
Less than 6 pieces remained on his side of the board, and it was getting close.
The intensity of their match picked up, and within a couple more moves, Rho''dan had secured victory.
Smiling at his, the purple haired woman looked expectantly at Rho''dan, yet all he did was stare at her, waiting for her to fulfill her end of the bargain.
Her disappointment was palpable, yet Rho''dan did not let up in his stern stare down.
¡°Accept the contract.¡± Rho''dan demanded.
¡°I am a lady of my word.¡± The woman bowed. As she lowered herself, a knitted necklace of yarn fell forward from within her cleavage onto the table. At the same time, the mana restricting manacles locking him in place came undone.
Upon seeing this, Rho''dan''s heart figuratively moved into his throat. That handiwork was his.
An explosion of untapped memories flooded his system, and Rho''dan was forced to hold onto the table, lest he fall over.
¡°Vaermina.¡± Rho''dan said, tasting the word as it left his lips like a bitter-sweet candy.
¡°So you do recognize me.¡± The lady, no, Vaermina clapped.
When Rho''dan looked up from the table, he saw tears pooling in her violet eyes.
¡°You intended to lose from the very beginning.¡± Rho''dan said as he recognized that the chess game had followed a pattern he had played a thousand times.
¡°Guilty as charged.¡± Vaermina sardonically inclined her head, then took another puff of her pipe.
Rho''dan stood from his seat, and saw the outline of a door taking shape to the side.
He glanced at Vaermina, and it seemed as if she wouldn''t stop him. He considered stopping to chat, but his duty to House Vandercross, to his liege lord compelled him forward. He had dedicated himself to Varrus, and in this strange realm, would give his life if he had to. While he wanted to catch up, he could not allow himself to fall into such depravities when his family was on the line.
Gathering his gear, and approaching the door, Rho''dan turned back, and looked down at Vaermina. He saw the strength of a Goddess. Yet the hand hidden under the table was trembling.
¡°Before you go¡.never mind.¡± Vaermina turned her head away, and hid her face from view behind purple bangs.
Rho''dan remained in the doorway. His spirit warred with itself as his love for this long lost companion fought against his duty to the House.
Closing his eyes, Rho''dan wondered what Varrus would want him to do in such a situation.
It only took a second for him to realize the young Highlord would likely have something lewd in mind.
Unbidden, laughter spilled out in a deep baritone.
¡°So you would laugh at me, just like my sisters-mmph?!¡± Vaermina began to say in spite filled scorn, only to have her speech halted by a pair of lips.
Rho''dan withdrew from the kiss, then took her by the hand and helped her to her feet.
Vaermina felt love swell in her chest, and the Emerald Dream shook as the seal containing her Avatar broke.
Vaermina, Daedric Prince of Nightmares, had fallen in love.
Chapter 160
As soon as the rumbling heralding the release of the Avatar of Vaermina arrived, it had almost just as quickly subsided.
Varrus was processing the fact that a fully functional piece of a GOD was active in this realm, when a ping on his scrying orb drew his attention.
It was from Rho''dan!
¡°Everyone hold on, I just received some information that might be regarding this massive outpouring of energy.¡± Varrus said, then ignored them in favor of pulling out his scrying orb.
Syra seemed a little miffed at the lack of attention, but Varrus had already comforted her, and he had to see that his #1 bro-sorry Kael-was okay.
[Sorry for the late response, Highlord. I had been kidnapped by an old friend. It turns out Merithra was actually a demigod in disguise that I had known in my youth. No doubt the shockwave of her release from her prison has alarmed you. The matter should be under control, and I would be happy to detail a report for you as soon as possible. I have, per your instructions, ¡®used my charm¡¯ to acquire the assistance of a powerful ally. How are things on your end, do you require my aid? Glory to House Vandercross.] -R
Varrus read the message, and blinked his eyes in shock, confusion, and concern.
He was shocked, because the so-called demigod that Rho''dan apparently was long-time friends with turned out to be fucking Vaermina! A Daedric Prince, and one of the top tiers in the Elder Scrolls universe!
He was confused, because Rho''dan had just had a heart to heart with him hours ago in which he said he explicitly did not want to be used as eye candy to attract the hot women in other factions.
Finally, he was concerned that Rho''dan was under some kind of mind control, or that he was being threatened to write this message.
Mind control was a very serious threat, and one that literally happened to every single faction in Warcraft. It was the most common trope in the series.
Hell, the Blood Elves canonically broadcasted brainwashing speeches throughout Silvermoon during the Burning Crusade expansion. Apparently selling Kael out for the Horde was so unpopular, that mind control was deemed necessary. This was but one of many instances in which mind altering magics took place in WoW.
So understandably, Varrus was quite worried over Rho''dan''s mental faculties.
Shaking his head, Varrus decided for now to believe in Rho''dan. The stalwart guard had fully resisted that cthulhu lobster demigod, Kith''ix''s mental corruption during the Amani Troll invasion. He should have more trust in the man. However, while Varrus chose to trust him, that didn''t mean he wouldn''t keep an eye open for potential betrayal.
Looking at his words, if everything he said was true, then this had the potential to be an epic win. While Varrus had a generally negative opinion of Vaermina, that didn''t mean he didn''t believe in Rho''dan''s handsomeness to win the day.
From what he knew of Vaermina, she enjoyed torturing people in dreams, and her realm, Quagmire, was a place of eternal nightmare. However, her lore wasn''t very well explored. Perhaps what spoke about her character most, is that in Oblivion, if the player character wanted to speak with her, they had to offer up a Black Soul Gem. Aka, the soul of a murdered humanoid. This wasn''t exactly a good sign when it came to her PR.
All that being said, Varrus was willing to give Rho''dan a chance. Getting on the bad side of a Daedric Prince right now when he still had so much to accomplish seemed like the wrong thing to do.
Responding to Rho''dan, Varrus typed up a message on his scrying orb.
[Mission accomplished, I have achieved a complete victory. I just destroyed Xavius, and am in talks with the Dragon of Dreams, Ysera to see if she is worthy of joining the Covenant. I am pleased that you are okay, and have been worried about your safety. If you don''t mind me asking, what are the terms of her alliance?] -V
Some time had passed, and Rho''dan responded.
[Very good. Vaermina is¡clingy. I wouldn''t expect much from her, but so long as there is a foe within the Emerald Dream, she would fight by my side.]
¡®So not very reliable, but can act as a fist or boot when something needs stomping.¡¯ Varrus thought to himself.
Eying Ysera slowly panicking just a short distance away, Varrus wondered if he could leverage this affection towards Rho''dan to use Vaermina as a leash for Ysera.
The Emerald Dragon had yet to escape his suspicions, and he still had to test her commitment to Team Vandercross.
Afterall, her abandonment of Malfurion & Cenarius-no matter how justified-was the abrupt termination of a 10,000+ year agreement. How could Varrus not be concerned with her level of commitment?
Beginning to form the inkling of a plan, Varrus decided he would have to meet with the Avatar of Vaermina, and bring Ysera along for the ride. If Vaermina was antagonistic, then Ysera could prove her worth. If the Daedric Prince was truly enamored with Rho''dan, then she could be leveraged to put Ysera in check.
This unexpected event was beginning to sound like a W to Varrus.
Picking up his scrying orb once more, he sent one last message to Rho''dan.
[Message received. Let''s meet up in the area where Xavius''s castle used to be. I''m interested in meeting the woman who has been captured by my guard captain. For House Vandercross.] -V
Varrus chuckled to himself as he imagined the annoyed look on Rho''dan''s face when he read what he wrote. The stoic man was difficult to break, but Varrus had become an expert at pressing his buttons.
Laughter aside, Varrus decided not to discuss any of his ideas across this messaging platform, as he never knew if it could be intercepted, or if Rho''dan truly wasn''t under Vaermina''s influence.
Putting the orb away, Varrus turned to his family, and saw Ysera approach him in concern.
¡°The Avatar is sure to seek revenge, and destroy everything I have grown. I beseech thee, Lord Vandercross, please take refuge within my temple, and help me in repelling this threat!¡± Ysera bowed low, making sure to show off her figure.
Varrus ignored this-along with Syra''s not so subtle hiss-and instead shook his head in denial.
¡°That''s a negative, Lady Ysera. My man, Rho''dan, has seduced Vaermina. I intend to meet with the two of them on neutral ground. To ascertain if she is a threat myself.¡±
¡°To ascertain if she-! Lord Vandercross, please see reason, and remain here. She is a Daedric Prince! A being conjured of malice, and capricious intent! I am sorry to say, but even someone as handsome as Rho''dan can fall to a temptress'' bite!¡± Ysera practically begged Varrus not to go.
¡°Then all the more reason that I must venture forth. Rho''dan is my most loyal subordinate-¡±
¡°Awoo¡¡± Omen whined, and sat down upon hearing Varrus''s statement.
¡°Just like Omen is my most loyal animal companion. I would fight for any of my allies. If you too wish to be someone who I fight for, I ask that you accompany me on this venture.¡± Varrus said meaningfully, very clearly testing this fair weather friend.
Ysera looked as if she were chewing on marbles as she hemmed and hawed her response.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
Varrus was beginning to wonder if Malfurion was the only do-nothing in the Emerald Dream. Perhaps the seal placed upon her was nothing more than an excuse for cowardice?
¡°Of course she will go, as shall I!¡± A mature woman''s voice resounded in the clearing.
Emerging from the temple, a floating turquoise-blue ethereal womans head made of mana made herself known.
¡°Aessina!¡± Ysera stomped her foot, and pulled at the hem of her outfit in an act similar to childish rebellion.
Varrus almost caught sight of Ysera''s inner thigh due to the action, but Syra was quick to roughly shove his chin away, and embrace him with a deep tongue tying kiss.
¡°Ah, the passions of youth. Yes, young Vandercross, Ysera and I would be happy to join you.¡± The floating head said.
Breaking from the kiss, and feeling his wife''s fingernails painfully digging into his forearm, he knew he was on thin ice regarding this troublesome Dragon, and was happy for the distraction.
Examining the Wild God with his Mana Sight, Varrus saw that Aessina radiated the power of a demigod.
¡°The Green Dragonflight keeps impressive company.¡± Varrus inclined his head.
¡°Enough with the flattery. We have a diplomatic mission to accomplish, and things to do. Now Ysera, are you just going to stand around like a little girl, or are you going to take action? You can''t sleep inside every minute, no matter how much you want to avoid taking responsibility!¡± Aessina brushed off Varrus, then lashed Ysera like an overbearing mother admonishing her child.
¡°Yes, Aessina.¡± Ysera mumbled with her head bowed, and fists clenched.
¡°Now this one has character.¡± Nightsong whispered to Varrus, and began to sketch the wisp queen.
Varrus sighed, hoping Nightsong didn''t get any ideas. He then pulled Syra close lest she go on an unexpected rampage.
Eyes shadowed by her hair, Varrus could tell his loveable murder machine had figuratively her ¡®turbo kill¡¯ switch flicked to on, and was ready to start a bloodbath any second now.
What an exciting trip to the neutral meeting place this would be!
Grimacing to himself, Varrus threw out his flying carpet, and let everyone aboard.
He almost wanted Rho''dan to be mind controlled at this point. Anything to get jealous Syra murdering something.
This was going to be the longest half hour flight of his life¡
~~~~~~~~~~~
After clinging to his wife, and making sure Omen got plenty of headpats, Varrus had studiously ignored Ysera''s by now, obvious flirtations, and after 30 minutes of travel time, arrived at his destination.
Within the scorched lands of Nightmare, not a soul made a peep. All was silent as the haunting white void served as the backdrop for this section of the Emerald Dream.
Down below, under a canopy of trees, Varrus spotted Rho''dan playing a game of chess against a beautiful woman.
That dog!
Varrus almost grinned, happy that his most trusted companion had found someone, however, he was quick to tamp down on such emotions, lest he aggro his wife''s threat meter.
Pulling Syra in for a side hug, he landed the carpet, and placed it into his inventory.
Before he could say anything, Ysera stepped forward, and pulled a textbook maneuver straight out of a teenage girl¡¯s playbook.
All seeming fear went out the window, and the Green Dragon hit Vaermina where a woman was weakest.
She insulted her fidelity. Aka, she implied Vaermina was a whore.
¡°So what, is this the fourth or fifth partner you''ve taken under your wing? The seal I placed over your home required true loves kiss as a condition for its undoing. But someone as shallow as you can do it with someone she just met? How low can one creature sink?¡± Ysera flicked her hair, and looked down on Vaermina.
Varrus felt a piece of himself die inside when he heard such a trashy level of pettiness come from the Green Dragon. What was worse, is that since she wore the form of a bombshell hot High Elf woman, the insult carried with it 10x more bitchiness than it ever could if a Human had delivered it.
Frankly speaking, Varrus was stunned by this impromptu development, and didn''t know how to react. He wasn''t familiar with either Ysera or Vaermina, and he had no clue that there was so much vitriol between the two.
It sort of made sense, what with Ysera sealing Vaermina''s Avatar away¡
Swiping at his forehead, Varrus realized he had perhaps been much too positive in his outlook. Of course they would hate one another.
Upon hearing this insult, Vaermina flipped the chessboard over, and stood up, purple-black energies coated her hands, and her eyes glowed full of malice.
She was a second away from attack, and Varrus, along with all his companions tensed, readying themselves for battle.
It was only when Rho''dan wrapped his bearlike arms around the pretty purple lady''s thin arms, that she relented, and the baleful aura surrounding her dissipated.
Breathing a sigh of relief, Varrus met Rho''dan''s eyes, and nodded in thanks.
Nodding back, Rho''dan grimly shifted his eyes to Ysera, as if to say ¡®what the hell?!¡¯
Varrus could only shrug in apology. It was complicated.
Rho''dan nodded once more in understanding. Women were tricky creatures best kept at arm''s length.
The silent bro moment passed in a manner of seconds, and Varrus knew this was his Rho¡¯dan, no mind control should be in effect.
Tempers had ever so slightly cooled down, only to flare up again.
¡°So you''ve brought Ysera here. Rho''dan has told me you are a kind, young man with a great vision, Varrus. I am pleased to make your acquaintance. However, I question the company you keep. Doubtlessly, she has sold you the same lie she told me, that she was trapped within her temple, and could not come out!¡± Vaermina fumed from within Rho''dan''s grasp.
Lifting an eyebrow, Varrus slowly turned his attention to Ysera.
If this proved to be true, then that added an entire new dimension onto their relationship. Ysera had claimed she could not help Malfurion or Cenarius due to her trapped state. That she couldn''t speak to Syra or Nightsong directly because she couldn''t leave the temple. That she couldn''t war with Xavius, because of her plight!
Should this be a lie, then Varrus came to the stark conclusion that he couldn''t trust her whatsoever.
That the very foundation and basis for their alliance-one founded on him rescuing her from Xavius-was dead!
Turning to watch Ysera''s reaction, what he saw made him disappointed.
The Green Dragon obviously didn''t spend much time socializing, much less living as a humanoid, because her face said it all.
She was guilty as all hell.
Truly, she was a 10,000+ year old teenager all along. No accountability for herself whatsoever. Everything was someone else''s problem, and she couldn''t handle a single problem on her own. She was an insult to strong women everywhere. People like Syra and Nightsong were role models compared to this daydreaming lizard!
¡°Varrus, you cannot believe a word of this lying whor-¡±
¡°Don''t bother honey, they have seen through you.¡± Aessina chided.
¡°Aessina! You! None of this would have happened if you didn''t urge me to leave the temple!¡± Ysera scowled, the mana around her fluctuated dangerously as she spoke.
¡°My girl, it is time for you to grow up. To face some consequences for your actions. These are some reasonable people. This act of yours proves you have flaws, that you need to earnestly strive to gain their trust. Believe me, you will come out stronger after this trial.¡± Aessina spoke in a mothering tone.
Varrus, for his part, was torn between turning on Ysera then and there, and doing what Aessina suggested.
He liked to believe he wasn''t a murderous monster who killed everything that disagreed with him. Afterall, he had accepted Valanar''s surrender. The druid was practically a part of his entourage at this point, despite them both fighting to the death mere months ago. If the rebellious Prince could work with him, then Varrus wouldn''t say it was impossible for Ysera to redeem herself.
In fact, Aessina was correct. He had been so suspicious of Ysera from the get go, he was almost relieved to learn of her betrayal. Because it was a betrayal of trust, not one where she tried to turbo murder them. There was still a chance at reconciliation, for trust to be mended.
If she really gave it her all, Varrus anticipated that their alliance would become stronger for it.
Looking at the Dragon in Elven form with an expectant look, Varrus hoped to hear her ask for forgiveness, and a second chance.
However, Ysera apparently chose the action of a petulant child. Instead of responding, she opened her eyes.
Ysera, who always kept her eyes closed to harness her magic, unleashed a powerful, instantaneous, ocular spell.
Varrus was stunned as he found himself as the target.
¡®Not another fucking dream fight sequence!¡¯ Varrus raged to himself as he saw Ysera''s body become incorporeal and begin to enter his body.
As he felt himself drifting off to sleep, Varrus had a stroke of inspiration, and activated Dream Geas on himself.
Ysera may have thought herself clever infiltrating his dream, but he had experience against Xavius, and this time HE was the one in control. He would teach this ancient teenager why he was 1-0 against the Dragon Aspects!
Chapter 161
Opening her eyes for the first time in centuries, Ysera caught everyone off guard.
The looks of surprise, and shock felt empowering to her. As someone who was often looked down upon, and disregarded, taking action for once, to chase after her dreams felt right.
Ever since she was young, she was the weakest of her siblings, the runt of the litter. Her brother, Neltharion often shielded her from the elements, and Alextrasza babied her.
When they confronted their cannibalistic father, the Dragon progenitor, Galakrond, she had been the least of his worries, and contributed little to the fight.
Then, when the Titans had bestowed upon them the awesome power of the Aspects, to safeguard Azeroth, her siblings had been granted fantastical abilities, while all she could do was travel through dreams¡
Maligos gained dominion over magic, and could warp reality into any shape he desired.
Alexstrasza could breathe life into inanimate objects, and with her infinite stamina, engage with her consorts night and day.
Nozdormu could freely travel between timelines, collecting rare antiques, and erase anyone he disliked from the timeline.
Even her big brother-who she respected most-Neltharion could make islands, or sink continents in his role as earth warder.
Meanwhile, Ysera had to sleep to use her ability to its maximum effect. Her own Dragonflight was nothing but a conjured dream, and while Alextrasza was throwing herself at every man that looked at her sideways, Ysera had been trapped fantasizing about romance for millenia!
It was enough to drive a girl mad!
And when the perfect man of her dreams showed up, he already had a wife, and that slut Vaermina was flaunting her recent conquest.
Understandably, this was the worst day of her life, and she had to react the way she did.
Aessina''s advice was always so sound, but today was the day that Ysera would stand for herself!
And so she opened her eyes, and cast an instantaneous ocular spell, paralyzing everyone in sight, and entering Varrus''s dream!
She knew he was the best target to pick based upon his qualities as a leader. If she could enter his dream, and sway him to replace those misguided emotions he had for Syra onto her instead, then Ysera knew victory would be short at hand.
Her goal was to pierce his dreams, and find his subconscious. Once that was achieved, she could work her magic, and the pretty boy would be gifting her flowers, and making love to her nightly, and would cease all relations with that other woman.
Giggling to herself, Ysera ignored Aessina''s pleas, and the mounting horror of her victims as she enacted her plan.
Turning into a phantom, Ysera entered Varrus like a ghost possessing a body, and threw herself into his dream.
Upon entry, Ysera was surprised by an unfamiliar sight.
Surrounding her were impossibly tall grey, box-shaped rectangles, and a world of metal dwarven vehicles. It was such an odd place, one that could only be defined as a city. The method of travel involved copious swearing, and hairy men repeatedly slamming their hands angrily onto the steering device moving their vehicles.
Crowds of Humans walked every which way, and a thousand things stimulated her senses. Nose wrinkling as a black cloud exhaled from one of the dwarven wheeled vehicles, Ysera looked everywhere she could for Varrus, but in this dense crowd, had no such luck.
Sharp noises pierced her ears, and several oddly dressed locals stopped to gawk at her, distracting her from her search. Many of the passers-by whipped out metallic rectangles, and held them in front of their faces, pointing them at her. It was as if they were more interested in looking at these rectangles than her, a beautiful woman.
Catching sight of one of these rectangles recording an image, Ysera found it to be an odd shape for a scrying orb, yet the ease with which these rectangles fit into pockets and bags intrigued Ysera.
Curious, Ysera almost forgot her mission to find Varrus''s inner consciousness, and wanted to get lost in this deeply complex, and extremely unique dream.
All around her there was so much new mixed in with the familiar.
Great statutes, museums dedicated to unknown art, street vendors hawking never before seen food, and so many different types of clothes!
Ysera saw more in one slice of this dream, than she did when traversing the dreams of a thousand common denizens of Azeroth.
¡°Just who are you, Varrus Vandercross? Your mother is a Shard of Akatosh, do you come from beyond the Dark Portal, a Plane of Oblivion, or even further?¡± Ysera said to herself.
Holding a hand up to a window, Ysera saw her reflection, and couldn''t help but smile at herself. Creating a pouting face, Ysera laughed, then turned around to get to business.
She was about to focus up, and cast a spell to locate Varrus''s consciousness, however, much to her surprise, all the people, vehicles, sounds and smells of the city had vanished!
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
A cold wind blew between the city blocks, and thunder boomed on the horizon.
Stifling rain soon dropped down on top of Ysera, and water so cold she could feel it in her bones fell upon her skin.
Shivering, Ysera held her arms tight, and sneezed.
¡®This isn''t right. The inclement weather of a dream has never impacted me to this level before. My authority as an Aspect has protected me for all these millenia¡No, this only proves how special Varrus is, that I was right in my decision to pursue him!¡¯ Ysera clenched her fists in excitement as she bolstered her self confidence, and tried to power through the coldness she felt due to the rain.
The inviting, vibrant city had transformed into a dark, dismal locale. Flickering lamp posts, and the distant clatter of trains crossing tracks tickled her ears.
A growing sense of unease shivered down her spine, she tasted danger in the air.
Thick rolling fog obscured her sight, and Ysera almost gave in to her urge to retreat, and pull out of this dream. To give herself up, and submit to whatever demands the Elves had of her.
¡°No! I am Ysera! I won''t be bound to that temple for another ten millennia!¡± Ysera said aloud to herself.
Channeling mana to her eyes, she blasted apart the encroaching fog, and took flight in her Dragon form.
Casting light from her eyes like beams, Ysera blasted apart buildings, and clouds as she searched for the target of her heart''s desire.
Channeling a spell, she tried to find the physical manifestation of Varrus''s consciousness, yet it was to no avail.
Lost, and without a plan, Ysera suddenly had a brilliant burst of inspiration. She could just copy what Varrus had done to find Xavius!
She would burn it all down!
While such a method could prove detrimental to Varrus, and possibly handicap his psyche, it was a risk she was willing to take. Besides, she could always heal him through some dream therapy. Right now, victory was all that mattered.
Going through with her plan, Ysera used a combination of her eye beams, and Dragon breath to absolutely obliterate the city.
Before long, she had devastated the dreamscape into a hellish wasteland. Melted metal pooled everywhere, and blackened rubble dotted the landscape. The embers of flames surrounded the environment, and not an inch of land escaped her fiery wrath.
She was proud of her own destructive capabilities, but she found that it was impossible to celebrate.
Ysera had destroyed every building in this misbegotten city, and yet, she hadn''t caught a single clue as to Varrus''s whereabouts!
Doubts and thoughts of self harm colored Ysera''s psyche as she felt her confidence shake once more.
What had she done wrong?
Entering dreams in the past had been so easy. Locating the prime consciousness had also always been so simple.
The city was a masterpiece of art, and while she was loath to destroy it, Ysera was willing to do anything if it meant securing Varrus as her consort.
Scanning her surroundings, Ysera was startled when a giant black square scrying orb from within the rubble suddenly activated itself, and an image of Varrus appeared on it.
Accompanying him, an upbeat tune began to play from the device.
¡°Varrus! You are incredible. This city, this landscape, it is a work of art! I''m sorry I jad to tear it down, but I promise to help heal your damaged psyche once you give yourself up!¡± Ysera tried to reign in her enthusiasm, but couldn''t help but gush over him. At the same time, she playfully threatened him, and offered to help him if only he would come to the light, and see reason.
¡°Ysera, if only you were so forthcoming earlier. If I knew you were so talkative and friendly, there never would have been cause for violence. As much as I hate the hypocrite. Malfurion, Cenarius and the other druids¡we all could''ve teamed up if you had been more proactive. Heed your friend, Aessina''s advice, Ysera, pull out now, and I won''t have to do to you what I did to Nozdormu.¡± Varrus folded his arms in front of his chest, and spoke to her as if he were an adult admonishing a child.
His tone of voice irked Ysera, and she was reminded of her siblings always smothering her creativity. All jovial emotions fled as bitter rage took their place.
¡°Your dreamscape is burnt to a crisp, Varrus. From where I stand, atop this rubble that is your crumbling mind, it is not a pretty sight. You need me. I want to be your friend, don''t make this harder than it has to be.¡±
¡°Funny thing for a friend to say and do. Forcefully drag me into your land, lie to me about Xavius & Malfurion, try to set me against my closest companion, antagonize my wife, and you caused said damage without a care in the world. I don''t know if this is all one big plot, or if it is the temper tantrum of the century. How could I be friends with someone who tried to melt my mind?¡±
¡°You¡jerk!¡± Ysera, always on the losing side of arguments with her siblings, was just as weak now, and fired back with a petulant response.
Varrus sighed, and pinched his eyebrows at her admittedly, weak comeback.
¡°We''re really doing this right now.¡± Varrus muttered to himself, yet it was loud enough that Ysera heard everything.
Cheeks flushed red in embarrassment, Ysera blasted a hole in the rubble next to the flat rectangular scrying orb.
¡°I don¡¯t care! Come out and face me! Otherwise, I''ll destroy even the rubble of your mind! Once you reveal yourself, you''ll have no choice but to love me!¡± Ysera shouted, her inner emotions were full of hurt, and that reflected in her tone of voice.
¡°Yeesh, now I feel kind of sorry for what''s about to happen.¡± Varrus hung his head forward, then the connection cut.
¡°Don''t you ignore me Varrus Vandercross!¡± Ysera raged at the sudden cessation of dialogue, and began blasting apart everything in sight.
However, suddenly, the city completely rebuilt itself, as if the damage to Varrus''s psyche had never taken place.
¡°Huh-wha?¡± Ysera blinked and barely strung together a few syllables in awed confusion.
Before she could regain her berings, a voice then boomed from all around her, and the world stopped. The people, the vehicles, the birds, the rain falling to the ground, it all came to an abrupt halt as a result of this all encompassing voice:
¡°Don''t you disrespect me, little girl!
Don''t you derogate or deride!
You''re in my world now, not your world. And I''ve got friends on the other side!¡±
Upon this declaration''s completion, the world of tall buildings, and smooth roads shattered into a kaleidoscope of color, and broken glass.
Ysera felt herself endlessly falling into a horrible pit of nonstop horrors.
Despair gripped her heart as she tried and failed to remove herself from this plane. For the first time in her life, Ysera became fearful of the dream.
Regret suffused her system as one thought endlessly drove itself home into her psyche.
¡®If only I had taken my role as Aspect of Dreams seriously.¡¯
Chapter 162
AN: This is a mass update, go back to ch 156.
After activating Dream Geas on himself the second before Ysera entered his dream, Varrus had found himself within a lucid dream.
Or in other words, he could basically do whatever he wanted, or conjure up any item, thing or anything that stretched his imagination.
Within his mind, he was king.
Furthermore, since this was all an illusion, all of the previous buffs applied.
The first thing he did was make a city to distract Ysera, and see just how strong she was. While Varrus was confident since he had control of his mind-unlike Syra when Xavius had infiltrated her-however, he didn''t want to be arrogant. Ysera was the Aspect of Dreams after all. This was her domain, and it was best to test her, and see just how powerful she was.
If Ysera threatened to destroy his consciousness in any way, Varrus was willing to go scorched earth.
As to why he didn''t do so from the get go?
Well¡he saw Ysera as being kind of pathetic. A misguided, cowardly girl who only ever saw the real world through dreams. In a way, she was like someone who terminally lurked reddit without ever interacting with people in the real world.
Varrus didn''t hate such a lifestyle, and spent most of his time online too, but he still had to deal with bullshit real world responsibilities.
Ysera, from as far as Varrus could tell, always shucked anything negative against her onto someone else. Malfurion, adventurers, they always had to save her. He was assuming a lot here, but based on her lore, Ysera seemed to avoid responsibility like the plague. As a result, she was rather sheltered, and a bit obsessive. He kinda saw his wife in her, and for that, he took pity on her.
That is why Varrus didn''t immediately try to yeet her into the next dimension, and absorb her soul. That, and whenever he conquered new realms or other people, he tried to minimize casualties.
Taking over Quel''Thalas & establishing the council was relatively bloodless, excepting the imprisonment of Koren''s brother, Koren''s father''s murder, and the murder of Lord Sanguinar at his wife''s hands.
When he went on a diplomatic mission to the Kobolds homeland, they only murdered the leader. Likewise in Gilneas, they went for the head, along with some nobles, whilst the commoners were left alone.
Ysera, for all her faults, still had potential, beyond his sympathies for her. From a utilitarian perspective, he still hoped to use her as a counterpoint for the Avatar of Vaermina.
While Rho''dan had worked his masculine magic, and wooed a fucking Goddess, love was a tether Varrus was loathe to rely upon.
Daedric Princes were known to be mercurial. That they often changed forms, or played games for amusement. Should she tire of Rho''dan, or if heaven forbid, his chief guardsmen perish, Varrus could foresee Vaermina transforming into a top tier threat.
With that in mind, Varrus very much wanted Ysera to hold down the fort, and act as a counter to any potential Daedric shenanigans.
The important thing now, was to discover if Ysera truly wanted to ally with him, that she harbored no malicious intent, and was simply acting out in one foolish blunder.
OR to discover if she was secretly an ancient trickster using this persona as nothing more than a tool for Varrus to let his guard down.
Underestimating a 10,000+ year old Dragon would be the height of stupidity. Frankly, Varrus couldn''t 100% trust the obvious answer, that: Ysera really was that childish. So that''s why he had made this city, and bought time, so that he could also come up with a plan.
Whilst Ysera began to destroy concrete blocks, and other buildings, Varrus-from within the depths of a sewer-plotted Ysera''s downfall.
After some time, and once she had turned the entire city, Varrus had realized a path to sussing Ysera out.
Having a brief chat with Ysera on a TV screen, Varrus tore apart the city, and exploded the entire scenery, replacing it with giant-skyscraper sized-falling rainbow colored glass.
Hidden within one of the shards, Varrus initiated a sense of falling, as if the shards were moving downward into an endless black chasm.
The feeling of falling was further exacerbated, as Varrus moved the glass in such a way that Ysera would be feeling butterflies in her stomach.
Part of his plan was to confuse, and overstimulate the Green Dragon. Once he had her in a mentally exhausted state, then he would swoop in, and perform his magic tricks.
Chuckling to himself, Varrus started to up the ante since he knew he had to break her, and began to get creative.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Ysera finally cast a spell that pointed in the direction of Varrus''s subconscious.
Glancing across this realm of vibrantly colored crystals, Ysera realized her target was dozens if not a hundred miles away.
Trying to see if she could fly there, the second Ysera flapped her wings off the ground, an incredible gravity pressed her down, and she felt as if she were going to be squashed!
Mumbling angrily to herself, Ysera erupted in a burst of power, and erased Varrus''s presence around her. Flapping her wings once more, Ysera found she could take flight.
However, peering over the edge of the falling crystal, there was nothing below but a vast empty chasm. Feeling butterflies in her stomach, Ysera ruled out flying.
That only left teleportation.
This was somewhat dangerous, as long distance teleportation always carried with it some risk. If Varrus interrupted her mid incantation-which he very well could do-then she might have some of her body parts spliced into these crystals. Even in a dream, this was a less than ideal outcome.
Rolling her eyes at Varrus''s unwillingness to see her, Ysera firmed her resolve, and tried to warp over to his position. However, as soon as she was going to complete the spell, she felt something in her throat!
¡°Heuk, heuk, heuk!¡± Ysera coughed, and wretched as it had the consistency of hair!
If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.
She hadn''t experienced such a flavor since she had hunted with her siblings millenia ago.
Eventually, she spat the object out, and to her surprise, it was a hairball!
¡°Eww!¡± Licking her claws, Ysera tried to get the disgusting flavor of-unbelievably-cat hair out of her mouth!
However, when her forked tongue extended to taste anything other than furball, it licked the webbed feet of a duck.
Blinking her eyes, Ysera just about had a heart attack when she saw that her claws had been replaced with webbed toes, and her snout, her snout had a bill on it like a platypus!
Catching her reflection in one of the many crystal mirrors that surrounded her, Ysera just about had a heart attack!
¡°Varrus!¡± Ysera angrily yelled into the crystalline void, but received no response.
Ysera rolled her eyes, then grinned-or grinned as much as a bill allowed her anyhow-and transformed herself into a naked High Elf.
Without even needing words or focus, transformative magic was one of her fort¨¦s.
Striking a pose, and admiring herself in a crystal mirror, Ysera knew that her Elven form was highly attractive. Flaunting her stuff, Ysera cocked her hips forward, and practiced a smug smile she had seen a thousand thousand times in Highborn dreams.
¡°Come play with me~¡± Ysera said, and bounced up and down in place, making sure her everything jiggled.
¡®If that doesn''t bring him to me, then I''ll have to resort to grabbing him myself!¡¯ Ysera clenched her fists, and pouted.
¡°Ha ha ha, like a kitten. Honestly, you are attractive.¡± Varrus''s voice boomed throughout the realm.
¡°Then you''ll come to me. If there''s anyone I''d like to share my first time with, it''d be you¡¡± Ysera whispered quietly, and looked down at the floor bashfully. Rubbing her toes back and forth along the rainbow crystalline surface, Ysera slowly smiled with a hint of nervousness.
Unbeknownst to her, a silent red orb containing a fear spell travelled through the distance, and struck her in the back.
Upon taking effect, Ysera''s entire demeanor took a drastic shift.
Heart racing a million times a minute, Ysera genuinely wished Varrus had seen the light, yet a small part of herself hated that she had resorted to this. That they couldn''t have gotten to know one another. That they could have gone slow. Done things like spending moments together on the beach, watching sunsets, learning one anothers favorite foods, and so much more. She wanted to be able to pick clothes out for him, and know what styles, and colors he preferred, to explore what literature he liked, so she could commision works for him.
After thinking this all through, those prior emotions of vindication, self empowerment, and success scattered to the wayside like petals from a rose on a windy afternoon.
Dripping from her face, a single tear transformed into a waterfall.
Rubbing at her cheeks, Ysera tried to be happy, that the man of her dreams was surely on his way to make love to her, but deep down, she knew she wasn''t good enough.
None of the boys she had invited over the years had met her high standards, and the one that finally took her fancy was so magnificent, that it almost seemed impossible.
Repelled the Scourge invasion, defeated a surprise Troll invasion, warded off betrayal, slew his own father, fed his peoples addiction keeping them from civil war, crafted masterworked gear, rebuilt Silvermoon, cleansed the uncleansable plague, won over several nations, defeated her brother at the height of his power, and destroyed her mortal enemy that she had been fighting for thousands of years in one afternoon.
Varrus Vandercross was extraordinary. Someone she coveted, and wanted to be with. But after thinking about what she wanted from him, she realized she had been too selfish. She loved the idea of Varrus more than the man himself.
She didn''t know his favorite foods, books, music, or a thousand other tiny idiosyncrasies that made up who he was. All the while, she had been attracted with what he was, what his accomplishments were.
It disgusted her how shallow her thoughts had been.
¡°I''m the worst. I don''t want to sell my body for false love. I want real, emotional love too.¡± Ysera mumbled to herself miserably, and sat down in a fetal position, her arms covered her legs and she rested her head on her knees.
¡°If this is an act, then you''re one scary lady, Ysera. Buuut, if you''re really remorseful¡hah, this is really complicated. I was planning on putting you through a playdough machine, experience drowning, an epic boss fight, and so much more,I wasn''t expecting well, this. In fact, kitten, you crying like this makes you even prettier. If I wasn''t married, I''d be by your side in a heartbeat. But I cannot be yours, Ysera, I am sorry.¡± Varrus''s voice sounded from a nearby crystalline-humanoid construct.
Ysera wiped her tears, and mumbled incoherently to herself as a warm blanket was draped over her shoulders.
~~~~~~~~~
Sighing to himself, Varrus could only shake his head in pity.
He knew what it was like to be lonely, to be unloved, to lose friends and family.
Watching Ysera tremble, despite having the blanket placed over her, Varrus, for the umpteenth time sighed.
After blasting Ysera with a fear spell, he had planned on activating the Soul Crusher perk should she prove more resilient, or antagonistic. However, in her current, raw state, that hardly seemed necessary.
He had been prepared for some final, epic duel even, but magic was funny. Not every ending to a conflict was due to a fiery explosion, or gore caked duel to the death.
Today, loneliness & depression had won him the battle, yet it left Varrus feeling hollow. There was no cathartic release like when he cut Xavius from stern to stem.
But perhaps, peace didn''t have to be achieved through violence this day.
Viewing the trembling girl, Varrus emerged from a portal behind her, and held out his hand, hesitating.
Worry that this was some sort of trap niggled at the back of his mind. Ysera did, afterall, turn on him earlier.
Hesitating. Varrus very seriously considered using the other function of Dream Geas upon Ysera, which had the feature of making the victims of the spell into thralls. Yet that notion left a sour taste in his mouth. It wasn''t that he was unwilling to go that far. Varrus had practically done the same with his Dead Thrall spell to Starbottle, and Dawnbringer, but those were two national icons that brought much needed support to Quel''Thalas. In this circumstance, did he really need to enslave such a vulnerable girl?
Hand mere inches from her back, Varrus ultimately placed it on her head, and gave it a few gentle pats.
¡°There, there, kitten.¡± Varrus said comfortingly, and said in a quiet voice.
At the same time, he did two things. One, Varrus activated the perk, Dream Charm, which helped improve Ysera''s disposition towards him. Secondly, he cast a calm spell, so that Ysera would stop freaking out.
It was a band-aid solution, but Varrus was no psychologist. He was a magician, if he could make someone better with magic, then that''s what he''d do!
¡°Will.¡± Ysera barely said, looking up at Varrus hopefully from the ground. She clenched the blanket tightly, then skittishly looked back down.
Varrus patiently waited for her, and conjured up some hot cocoa for the both of them.
Taking a sip, Varrus closed his eyes, and enjoyed the flavor.
Eventually, after a few sips, Ysera seemed to gather her courage.
¡°Will you be my friend? Like, not lovers or anything like that! But just friends, like people who hangout and stuff.¡± Ysera spoke quickly, as if she were afraid she wouldn''t get it all out, or that Varrus would be quick to deny her request.
¡°Of course. Here, to new friends.¡± Varrus clinked his snowman themed mug against hers.
Ysera rubbed her eyes, as a fresh wave of tears spilled down her face, except this time, she was smiling.
¡°To new friends!¡±
~~~~~~~~
AN: That pretty much does it with the Emerald Dream arc, maybe 1 or 2 more chapters with recap/MC¡¯s plans moving forward, then it¡¯ll be back into the action. Sorry for not ending in some cataclysmic fight as usual, haha. However, we''ll be pivoting to the Plaguelands very soon. I DO have a cataclysmic ending planned for that arc. Arthas is no joke. GG
Chapter 163
Within Varrus''s dream within the Emerald Dream, time passed even slower. Taking advantage of this fact, Varrus spent a couple hours with the lonely Dragon.
In all honesty, it was a little awkward, as she was an attractive woman, and she very clearly had feelings for him, but generally speaking, it was a wholesome experience.
Varrus dredged up memories of art museums, and music he had enjoyed. It was pretty funny to see Ysera get excited when she listened to rock''n roll, and hip hop for the first time.
She very clearly suspected him of something, but didn''t press into his secrets.
After a few hours had passed, Varrus ended everything with a fireworks performance.
A crowd of illusory people within a valley pointed up at the sky, hushed whispers, cheers, and all sorts of revelry was taking place, setting the atmosphere.
Sitting on a hill overlooking the night sky, Varrus licked at an ice cream cone, and reminisced over the lost flavor of vanilla. As the cool, sweet sensation entered his mouth, and the warm summer¡¯s night breezed across his skin, Varrus recalled how much he missed the comforts of Earth.
¡°You''re lonely too, huh?¡± Ysera said between licks at her rocky road. All the while, she never turned to him, and kept her gaze fixated on the light show.
Varrus''s grip tightened, and some vanilla dripped onto his hand as he remained silent at Ysera''s question. He had Syra, Rho''dan, Kael, and more¡but his family were lost to him forevermore.
For all intents and purposes, they were dead.
Yes. Yes, he was lonely.
¡°It''s okay, you don''t have to say anything. It¡¯s just funny to have such a thought. Someone like you is so powerful now, but all your life, Elven society thought you were a fop. I can''t really reconcile the man you are, with what everyone thought you were.¡± Ysera turned to look at him as if he were some puzzle that needed to be solved.
¡°I get that a lot.¡± Varrus sighed as he willed the stickiness away from his hand.
¡°You''re funny, Varrus. You''re nothing like how I imagined you would be.¡± Ysera covered her mouth, and softly chuckled.
¡°Hrm?¡± Varrus questioned with a raised eyebrow.
¡°Well, we haven''t talked much, but you seem to always put on this tough guy ¡®I''m in charge¡¯ persona. But after spending some time with you casually, you''re not really tough at all!¡±
¡°Oof, you''ve got me there. Guess I¡¯m not the perfect paragon you were chasing after, huh?¡± Varrus teased.
¡°See, that''s sarcasm! You really know how to make a girl jealous, jerk.¡± Ysera rolled her eyes, and pouted.
¡°Yeah, yeah.¡± Varrus rolled his eyes back, and said dismissively.
Watching the fireworks reach their crescendo, Varrus ignored Ysera, and watched something he remembered from long ago in his childhood.
Glancing down below, Varrus watched a man resembling his father from Earth, along with his son on his shoulders. The man excitedly pointed up as the finale came to an end, and the bright lights reflected off the young boy''s face, showing his joy.
A moment of silence passed, as the darkness of night hid Varrus from sight, and a tear spilling down his cheek.
¡°It was fun, Ysera. We''ll have to do something like this again.¡± Varrus said after some time, making sure his voice was level, and composed.
¡°Yeah. Just promise me one thing.¡± Ysera said into the darkness. Her voice was quiet, sounding as if it was but barely a whisper.
¡°What is it?¡±
¡°...Don''t forget about me.¡±
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Breaking out of the dream within a dream, Varrus opened his eyes, and noticed that everyone else that had been trapped under Ysera''s paralysis had also regained their freedom.
Without any hesitation, Syra blitzed Ysera, and began swinging. Following her up, Omen was growling at the Green Dragon, and Nightsong + Rho''dan had adopted a defensive posture, looking at Varrus with care, to see if he had been negatively impacted.
¡°Stand down, stand down! This was all a test to see if there were any hidden traitors that had slipped into our ranks! I had to be sure everyone here was who they said they were, and Ysera helped me out. Abort!¡± Varrus was quick to cry out.
At the same time, he reached his hand out, and yoinked Syra back with a quick application of telekinesis.
Pulling his lovable murder machine into his arms, Varrus tenderly rubbed her shoulders, and made her look into his eyes.
Perhaps sensing his recent emotional turmoil, Syra stopped her kill everything in sight mode, and cupped Varrus by the chin.
She was a woman of few words, and loathed talking, but at this moment, she very clearly recognized he had undergone some difficulties. This only seemed to make her conflicted, as with one hand, she still held her blade, pointing at Ysera, whereas the other held him in a death grip, unwilling to unhand him for any reason.
Blinking at her, Varrus felt sorry that he had made her feel so unnerved, and gave Syra a reassuring grin.
¡°We''ll talk about it later.¡± Varrus whispered, and squeezed her hand.
Syra stared unblinkingly into his eyes, then turned to Ysera.
The Green Dragon had her eyes closed once again, and hadn''t moved to dodge whatsoever.
¡°Oh dear, what a dangerous plan. Here I thought you had chosen such a disastrous route. Good for you, Ysera.¡± Aessina floated next to Ysera, and said in reassurance.
¡°Thank you, Aessina. It''s nice to hear the vote of confidence.¡± Ysera humbly bowed.
¡°Although maybe you aren''t ready for boys if you allow any handsome rogue to concoct such a hairbrained scheme.¡± Aessina admonished like an aunty.
¡°So you didn''t believe if we were real or illusions?¡± Nightsong looked at Varrus, clearly wise to his bullshit, but not explicitly pointing it out.
The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
At the same time, she went back to her notepad, and seemed to be comparing how he was acting now, compared to how he acted in the past.
¡°Of course. If someone wanted to backstab me, going through the people I love would be the best method.¡± Varrus said with great certainty.
This time, Nightsong smiled, as Varrus was actually telling the truth here.
¡°So it''s over then?¡± Rho''dan asked.
¡°Yes, this dream has come to an end, but it will not remain forgotten.¡± Varrus said meaningfully.
Afterwards, everyone said their goodbyes, and they left the Emerald Dream, returning for Azeroth.
Blinking his eyes open, Varrus noticed that it was dusk outside. By his estimate, only a few hours had passed in reality, whereas he had spent probably around a day in the dream.
Looking around, Faedra and Maeve were nowhere to be found, and the entire area surrounding the broken city of Deatholme was torn to shreds, as this had been the site of his and Malfurion''s epic duel.
Clenching his fist, Varrus wished Faedra was around so he could give her a good smack to the face. The conditions he had seen in Syra''s dream had made him apocalyptic with fury. Furthermore, she had been afk for the big fight against Nozdormu. He got that she was out of the city chasing Illidan, and couldn''t blame her for not having spies amongst literal time Dragons. But it was the principle of the matter. Every other Elf that was of any consequence had fought for the Sunwell, Varrus couldn''t help but be miffed that she or her posse of clowns had avoided the conflict altogether.
Letting out a pent up breath, Varrus looked out into the horizon with a weight on his chest.
He had done it, he''d restored the Sunwell, and killed the strongest foe yet. Then when he was about to slowly build up his forces, and plot the demise of the Lich King, he had been beaten to it.
Now, instead of careful consideration, he had to act against the Scourge soon if he wanted to take advantage of their instability.
With the Lich King''s death, the psychic signal tethering the Scourge together as one large, cohesive force was no more. The time to strike was now. Now that they were disorganized, the Undead were at their most vulnerable.
And yet, he had lost 60-80% of his golems, half the floating weapons platforms, and all but 3 of his Towers of Jenga. The only solace was that roughly a thousand Elves died during the Bronze Dragonflight''s invasion, but for a people so limited in number, those were casualties he could ill afford to lose.
If he recalled correctly, he had made a general plan with the other members of the Convocation to launch a new assault against the Scourge in 3 days time.
That meant Varrus was going to have to work his ass off to recast enchanted bricks, and help build floating buildings + golems like a man possessed!
Rubbing his face, Varrus felt the despair of an overworked man who never saw his kids, and was getting paid overtime, except the overtime was taxed so heavily, it was barely worth the work.
¡°I need a vacation.¡± Varrus said aloud to himself.
¡°I am sorry you have had to work so hard, son. Know that I am proud of you, always.¡± Nightsong placed a hand on his shoulder, and comforted.
¡°Aye, you have forever to enjoy. Times of strife like these are hard and dirty, but rarely last more than 20 years.¡± Rho''dan offered his own wisdom from the perspective of someone who had experienced millenia.
¡°I want to see your plays again.¡± Syra said in a quiet, longing voice.
Varrus''s ears twitched, and he imagined the sour faces of all the other Elves, as this time, they really would be ¡®forced¡¯ to clap for him, as he was tied for most powerful figure in society at the moment.
¡°Thank you, mother, Rho''dan, Syra, for always being with me. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart. I''ll be needing you in these coming days to defeat the Scourge. There are millions of them, and even with our renewed strength, and my newfound power, even then, it shall be a monumental struggle.¡± Varrus looked each and every member of his family in the eyes, and conveyed to them just how much they meant to him, as well as the severity of the dangers they would face.
¡°It is my honor to serve you, Highlord. Should I die, it will be blocking poisoned blades from piercing your hide.¡± Rho''dan loudly slammed his gauntleted fist into his cuirass, and saluted.
¡°Kun. Drem. Dun.¡± Nightsong shouted.
(Light. Peace. Grace)
An aura of serenity filled the air, and all the dark memories such as-his extreme pain/near death at Nozdormu''s & Malfurion''s hands earlier in the day, as well as Syra''s past, and what Xavius had almost accomplished-these dark events became like wispy clouds, distantant and unremarkable.
Varrus looked at his mother in thanks, as this latest venture had weighed him down greatly. It had been a very jarring experience for him, and only his transmigration had left him with a sense of helplessness somewhat mirrored by the time he spent in Syra''s consciousness. If he didn''t have her bound dagger¡he didn''t even want to imagine such an outcome.
While he was being introspective, Nightsong began to say a few words after her Shout.
¡°I look forward to instructing you, Varrus. We will have time to learn about one another in more detail. I won''t let anything happen to you.¡± Nightsong squeezed his shoulder, and smiled.
Lastly, Syra clunked her forehead onto his, and stared him in the eyes.
No words were said, yet everything that needed to be communicated was received.
They were a team. She was his, and he was hers. They would always be together.
Varrus grinned at them. His family.
Closing his eyes, Varrus soaked it all in, and when he looked at all of them, felt as if he was about to say something meaningful, when a sudden commotion broke out.
Head covered in a bag, Omen ran onto the scene, and was running in circles as if he was in a full on panic.
The golden retriever must have been having the time of his life, and rammed straight into Varrus''s chest, making him fall with an oomph.
Bag falling off his head, Omen finally recognized Varrus, and gave him a big, slobbery lick across the face.
Varrus was torn between disgust, and awe at the doggo.
Shaking his head, Varrus started laughing, and began to pet Omen on the head.
Yeah, he had a new family now, and he even made a friend. Maybe he was lonely, but that didn¡¯t mean he had to let it get him down.
The Scourge still needed an ass kicking, and he was the man for the job!
¡°Ahem. I don''t mean to interrupt your ¡®plotting,¡¯ Highlord, but a party is currently underway at the Sunwell. I don''t like to insist that you do anything, and I know how much you hate showing off, but I must insist that you show everyone that you are the one responsible for the Sunwell''s renewal. For yourself, and for the dignity of House Vandercross, I beseech you.¡± Rho''dan said with great solemnity, and deeply bowed at a 90 degree angle, as if he were some formal Japanese man.
Varrus was embarrassed by Rho''dan''s serious plea, and scratched the back of his head. He was thinking about denying his request, because he really, really could use some sleep.
However, one look at his mother and wife told him he didn''t really have a choice in the matter.
¡°Haaah, well, I guess I have a speech in me. Let''s go, we don''t want Tae''thelon snatching up all the credit I suppose.¡± Varrus sighed, and tossed out his flying carpet.
When he stepped aboard, he noticed a sly smile coming from Rho''dan, but Varrus could only roll his eyes.
Bastard really used his wife and mother against him. Varrus would remember this.
¡®Don''t think I won''t tattle to your sugar momma, my tall redheaded friend.¡¯ Varrus thought to himself as he smirked back.
Finishing that thought, Varrus began to take flight.
Once this party was over, it was going to be nonstop grinding over the next three days in preparation for this war.
By the end of it all, the Scourge would be nothing but a bitter memory, Varrus would make sure of that.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
AN: Read 30+ chapters ahead of public release at:
You can also read my 2 other stories there, Death by Piano: Welcome to Team Cynthia (Pokemon/Naruto), currently at ch 22, and Jedi Insurgency (Star Wars Jedi during Order 66) currently ch 7 there too. The 1st chapters of both stories are free to read, and I update them weekly.
Chapter 164
During his flight back to the Sunwell, Varrus was introspecting on what needed to be done in the coming three days before they invaded the Scourge held lands.
Number one, he drastically needed to repair his golem army, and rebuild the Towers of Jenga. The Eastern Kingdoms was a large subcontinent roughly the size of Europe, he needed an army to cover so much land, the Elven forces would not be enough. When it came to threat projection, they needed the floating buildings to act as weapons platforms.
The way Varrus saw it, they could utilize the high levels of mobility granted by flight, and go for surgical strikes against Hero & Elite units. Once these stabilizing foes were ganked from above, then the incredible numbers advantage of the Undead would be lessened. Without local leadership, the literal millions of zombies would be easy pickings if handled properly.
To rebuild this army, Varrus needed materials, something he was in desperate need of. Unfortunately, the Kobolds were worked to capacity, and would not be able to conjure up the necessary materials needed for the planned invasion three days later.
However, Varrus had a solution to this. He was going to have to mine for the materials himself.
Using Telekinesis and Undermine, Varrus could easily find his way through the treacherous underground shafts.
It was dirty, and a terrible waste of his time, but it was something that needed to be done. They were in a time crunch, and had to act as soon as possible to capitalize on the death of the Lich King. Otherwise if they waited too long, someone like Kel¡¯Tuzad would supplant the leadership role in the Scourge, and very well could become the next master of all Undead.
Once he had the resources, and rebuilt everything, there was still more to do, but it wasn''t as pressing.
Number two, making last minute gear for his army, as well as his allies army. He had stolen that rune pistol from the Crowley girl too, and now that six months had gone by, Telonicus had finally produced some working schematics. Varrus had never gotten around to looking at them, as he had been preparing for the Sunwell, but as soon as he read the schematics, he could ¡®eat¡¯ the knowledge, just like any spellbook in Skyrim.
If there was any way he could mass produce mana powered rune pistols, and hand them out to his Human allies, then it would be a great boon when it came to dealing with the Undead. As to why he wouldn''t hand them out to Elves for use? With the return of the Sunwell, all Elves would be spamming spells. Even rangers would be casting Arcane Arrow nonstop. Meanwhile, from what he saw, the pistol could be powered by Mana Stones, and/or could draw energy from the environment with a cooldown between shots.
However, he would at least ask the Elves if they wanted one, because unlike a spell, pistols were fire and forget. At the very least, he could see their use in melee combat, like how they were used effectively during the age of pirates.
Pistol aside, there was one last set of gear Varrus had been salivating over for quite some time.
Adamantium.
It was a word everyone who read comics or enjoyed fantasy was aware of.
Virtually indestructible, magic resistant, and black as midnight, this metal was amongst the very best.
With Thaladred and Doomhammer dead, they both left with them full suits of the stuff.
Once Varrus got his hands on their armor, he planned on smelting them, and making himself an entire set, as well as finally finishing a new buster sword for Syra.
Personally, he didn''t plan on wearing it anytime soon, as he didn''t have the enchanting materials for it, nor did he have any skill/perks in Heavy Armor. For Varrus, the armor was something to keep in his inventory, and hot swap to if the situation called for it.
As for his wife, it was Varrus''s dream ever since he first saw her cut dozens of zombies in half to make her a black blade.
Now that he had the Legendary Soul, the material, and the buff from the Sunwell, he was ready. He didn''t know how strong she would become due to this, but he was looking forward to even more badassery from his lovable murder machine.
Buffing Syra before this war kicked off was one of his highest priorities, however, there was one more thing he had in mind that needed to happen before the armies of Quel''Thalas pulled the trigger.
The third, and last thing that Varrus needed to finish was his secret war plan that he and Telonicus had been cooking up. There wasn''t much to say on this matter, but it was something that with the return of the Sunwell, should be at 99.8% completion. Hopefully these three days were enough time for the famed engineer to finish it.
In the meantime, if Varrus even had a second to spare, he would check up on Starbottle, Karwl + his paladin initiates, have a chat with Dawnbringer + Helios to see how they were holding out behind enemy lines, and lastly, inspect the construction of the Goblin factories.
It was a lot to accomplish in three days, but not impossible. As someone who just restored the Sunwell, then had a back to back fight against demigods, this day was far from over for him.
Varrus was sure he must''ve forgotten something, and Rho''dan would remind him later, but for now he had a Sunwell to get to.
However, as Varrus drew near to the isle of Quel''Danas, he slowly began to grow enraged.
The partying Elves were beginning to return to their decadent ways, and he didn''t see a single person standing on watch or guard.
His people were drunkenly throwing around magic as if they were on drugs, and the air smelt like wine.
Various competitions and lewd acts were taking place publicly, and the celebration which began hours ago, was now going long into the very early morning.
At first, the idea of a party had appealed to Varrus. Everyone deserved to celebrate their victory, to unwind after grueling months of mana addiction, and the harrowing losses inflicted by the Scourge.
The people needed this. To act out all these feelings, and get it off their chests.
And yet¡Varrus had so much work to do, that when he saw the very same decadent acts that lead to their downfall in the first place.it made him furious!
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Storm clouds rumbled in his chest, and his fists clenched so hard, he almost drew blood.
He had sacrificed so much for his people, and was going to sacrifice so much more in the coming days. When he saw this excessive level of partying, he was stunned speechless! If anything, they should be using this boundless energy, and infinite mana to be making potions, preparing enchanted materials, making new levitating buildings, creating fresh food for their army/allies armies, or a million other things.
They were on a tight schedule.
Hell, even his own guards were all getting busy! The fact that not one person was acting as security really made Varrus realize that he had to go even further with his reforms.
Once the new generation of Elves started to be born-thanks to Starbottle''s fertility potion-things would be different.
He would not allow the Highborn to regress!
Feeling hot blooded, he scanned the area for those who should know better, and it seemed only Tae''thelon, and Koren were amongst the partiers. Kael, Telonicus, Liadran, and Lor''Themar were nowhere to be found. He could only surmise that they had gone about various tasks, or were resting/recuperating for the next fight. As for Tae''thelon and Koren? Hmph.
Feeling such tumultuous emotions, Varrus decided to put an end to this gathering.
As if sensing his mood, no one else on the flying carpet uttered a peep. Perhaps Rho''dan, as his steward, and closest companion, realized what was pissing him off, because he was grinding his teeth at the sight down below.
Releasing the full might of Commanding Presence, and Imposing Presence, the additional perks Imperious Splendor & Kindred Mage activated, each perk doubling the effects upon the Highborn down below for a quadruple times increase.
The power wafting off Varrus trembled across the sky, and an invisible gravity lightly pressed upon the shoulders of every Elf present.
The music stopped, and every eye turned up to look at him.
It was as if a sudden sensation spread throughout each and everyone of them. They all had the collective feeling of fucking around the house, only to be caught in the act.
In short, Dad was home.
Varrus held them under this terrifying pressure, then magnified his voice so all could hear.
"The speech which I am about to deliver will not be for the purpose of checking your soiree, for, so far as I am concerned, you may celebrate wherever you wish; but because I wish you to know what kind of people you were originally and how you have been transformed since you came into our service.
In the first place, as is reasonable, I shall begin my speech from my father, Vandercross. For he found you vagabonds and destitute of means, most of you clad in tattered robes, hungering for mana, and left broken after the Sundering. Providing new clothes, boats, and mana to sup upon, he, alongside Sunstrider, and my mother, Nightsong, led the banished High Elves away from the tyrannical rule of the druidic Night Elves to find salvation.
They made you capable of fighting the neighbouring barbarians the Trolls. They made you colonists of cities, which he adorned with useful laws and customs, fostering respect amongst ourselves. They also added the greater part of the Eastern Kingdoms, securing vast coasts for trade, bringing exotic goods, and wealth to our lands.
Vandercross made you rulers over Eversong, and by humbling the nations of the Humans, they rendered the avenue into five thousand years of peace. The Arathi Empire, who were always lying in wait to attack Quel''Thalas, they humbled to such a degree, that the Empire fractured, never to threaten our domain again. Finally, establishing the Sunwell, we were all blessed with eternal youth, and a constant wellspring of mana.
These were the advantages which accrued to you from my father Vandercross, and mother, Nightsong; great indeed if looked at by themselves, but no lesser than those achievements you have obtained from me.
For though I inherited from my father only a few gold and few trinkets, and there were not even sixty Mana Stones in the treasury, and though I found myself with only 6 loyal men at the onset, I saved half of Silvermoon. Having slain the arch traitor, Dar''Kahn Drathir, the Scourge forces lost their local commander, making the ease with which His Majesty, Kael¡¯Thas Sunstrider, retook the eastern city.
The riches of the Kobolds, and Gilneans, which I acquired without fighting a protracted war, have come to you effortlessly. The wealth of the underground, the treasures of the sea, and the riches of the Goblins are yours; and so too are the vast farms of Everong returned to their rightful owners.
You are healthy by my spells, my potions, and armed with the finest equipment at my expense, and crafted by my own two hands. What then have I reserved to myself after all these labours, except this title of First Seat, and a fancy house? I have appropriated nothing myself, nor can any one point out my treasures, except these possessions of yours or the things which I am holding in reserve to craft on your behalf.¡± Varrus gestured towards their shiny armor, and enchanted rings/necklaces/circlets, to let them know that he had hoarded nothing for himself.
¡°Individually, however, I have no motive to hold onto them, since I take the same food as you do, and I take the same amount of rest as any other¡Nay, I do not think that my fare is as good as that of those among you who live luxuriously; and I know that I often sit up at night to watch for you, that you may be able to sleep.
But some one may say, that while you endured toil and fatigue, I have acquired these things as your leader without myself sharing the toil and fatigue. But who is there of you who knows that he has endured greater toil for me than I have for him? Come now! Whoever of you has wounds, let him strip and show them, and I will show mine in turn; for there is no part of my body remaining free from wounds; nor is there any kind of weapon used either for close combat or magic, the traces of which I do not bear on my person.
For I have been wounded with the sword in close combat, I have been shot with arrows, and I have been run through with the claws of a Dragon! Though oftentimes I have been hit with spells for the sake of your lives, your glory, and your wealth, I am still leading you as conquerors of the land and sea, all rivers, mountains, and plains within Quel''Thalas.
I have celebrated your weddings with my own, and the children of many of you will be akin to my children. Moreover I have liquidated the debts of all those who had incurred them, even though as soldiers, you receive such high pay, and have received more Mana Stones than many thought proper.
Whoever has been killed, has met with a glorious end and has been honoured with a splendid burial. Statues of most of the slain have been erected along the Hall of Heroes, and their family are held in honour, being released from all public service and provided a stipend of Mana Stones. But not one of you ?has ever been forced into a retreat or route under my leadership.
And now I was intending to congratulate you on a victory well fought, to see what progress we have made in beginning the next phase in our righteous fury directed towards the Scourge. To help you rebuild our weapons of war now that the infinite potential of the Sunwell is once again at our fingertips.
But since you all wish to party into dawn, celebrate, all of you! When the fog filled lens of ecstacy finally dims, go back and report to your friends, family, and the ghosts of your kin that your First Seat, Varrus Vandercross, the conqueror of the Amani, Kobolds, Gilneans, and Voidspawn; the man who has subjugated the Murlocs, and Bronze Dragonflight; who has marched over every inch of Eversong to cleanse the land of taint, through the strait to the isle of Quel''Danas to foil a plot most foul by the former Grand Magister, Rommath; who has crossed the rivers of the Ghostlands to reinforce Tranquillian. Who put siege to Deatholme, and secured all of Quel''Thalas? Who was the man who this very day combatted three demigods in defense of the nation, and brought the Green Dragonflight to heel whilst you partied? Who was the one who achieved the impossible, and returned the Sunwell to its rightful people for all to share? And so, report to them this day!
Gossip amongst yourselves in hushed whispers, when you enjoy your revelry and merry making, that when you return to Silvermoon, tell them that you deserted Varrus Vandercross, and went away, handing our long coveted revenge over to the protection of foreign allies, the Humans and Kobolds!
Perhaps this gossip of yours will be both glorious to you in the eyes of the civilians, and devout sycophants. The playboy son of Vandercross, reduced to relying upon foreign aid to wage war! The papers and playwrights will certainly enjoy it! So go, revel, laugh, have wild sex into the morning sunrise; show yourselves for the creatures you truly are, before the eyes of Gods and Mer.¡±
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
AN: 40% 10 day sale on ~~~~ to celebrate the 200ch milestone~
Read 30+ ch ahead at:
Chapter 165
After Varrus had finished his speech, the party came to a swift end.
Many of the Elves, having been severely shamed by Varrus''s speech, got to work with gusto.
Before long, several levitating buildings had been repaired, and took to the skies.
Crafters started to work overtime, and the soldiers began to train harshly under Rho''dan''s watch.
With the return of the Sunwell-and the limitless energy it provided-Rho''dan worked the warriors to the bone.
Meanwhile, the mages were practicing their spells, and unleashed large, Elite tier magics into the ocean, in preparation for the invasion.
Satisfied with this arrangement, Varrus took a Rune Stone teleportation portal to the Kobold city of Duhn''Dah''Row, where he spent the next 24 hours grinding for raw materials necessary for the war. Several times, he caused cave ins, due to his rapid progress, and abuse of Telekinesis. Thankfully, he had the Undermine spell on hand, and was never trapped for long. Collecting ore was pretty easy, because any odd colored rock that was broken from the mine could be collected by his inventory. Useless rocks made their own pile, and everything else was sorted neatly.
While he traversed the underground, he brought along with him some enchanted instruments to cut away at the tedium. Feeling nostalgic, Varrus often played the main theme from Minecraft. It was pretty therapeutic to mindlessly mine away, to, for a moment, forget about his responsibilities, and just do something boring and repetitive. At first, he was worried by the shifting earth, and a cave in, but as he experienced several such events, he came to worry less. His Demigod tier spell power was kind of insane, and he could literally hold the ceiling up with Telekinesis with one hand, and then create an escape with the other by casting Undermine.
In one insane raid on the land beneath Quel''Thalas, Varrus accumulated as many resources that took the Kobolds a month of digging for, in a single day!
Furthermore, as he wasn''t expecting any fights, Varrus had been going Legendary on his Alteration skill tree during this entire grinding session. Telekinesis was one of the best methods of leveling, and he gained a handful of levels during this interlude.
Currently, he was at level 200.
While he wanted to dump his points into stamina to increase his speed, or health for his survivability, he decided to stick with mana, which increased his base spell power, and increased the number of summons he could have under his control.
The stronger his spell power, the stronger his Ebony Flesh. Currently, it wasn''t strong enough, as evidenced by Malfurion ganking him from behind, and piercing his chest. This told Varrus that he needed to go even deeper on the all in for his mage build.
Once he could comfortably tank a Demigods point blank attack, then he might consider upping his HP/Stamina to match.
For now, he was all in on Spell Power.
That being said, leveling was still an incredibly tedious problem, and slow af. But this new method of grinding was a nice break from generating Mana Stones.
He definitely would have to do more mining in the future. He still had a dream of creating an autonomous army. Because while his stern words had moved the Elves to action, Varrus wasn''t under the delusion that as soon as peace came around the corner, 90% of the Blood Elves would return to their decadent ways.
As leader of the Covenant, Varrus would have to find alternative sources of manpower, and the gear he could make, as well as the golems/levitating buildings would be key components to his new empire.
Additionally, Mana Stones were still important to craft, because they refueled enchanted weapons, guns, cannons, and were the power source for the Towers of Jenga/golems.
Dirty, and covered in grime, Varrus only knew when to stop, because he had set an alarm on his scrying orb. It had been difficult to keep track of time in the endless darkness of the mines, and with the Sunwell, he never got tired, so it was a little surreal to have an alarm break him out of his rhythm.
By the end of his self imposed mission, Varrus was mentally exhausted, yet a small grin was pressed across his lips. He had worked a miracle, and gathered tons of materials.
Afterwards, he went back to the Sunwell, and for another 10 hours, grinded out his Mana Stones, and rebuilt: 10 Towers of Jenga, 15,000 Iron Golems, 5,000 Glass Golems, 50 Mithril Golems, 5,000 new sets of Glass Armor, 2,500 sets of Elven Armor, 10,000 Rune Pistols, and 1,000 autonomous Dwarven Cannons.
Each and every one of them was enchanted with the power of the Sunwell buffed Common Soul Gem! In short, the weapons transformed commoners into Elites, and Elites into top tier soldiers. The rune pistols and golems benefited most from this increased proficiency, and Varrus couldn''t wait to see them put to good use.
Actually, it was quite easy making all of the gear, as just like Skyrim, his system allowed him to craft things at lightning speed. Overall, it took him something like 3 hours to smelt all the ore, and craft the gear. An hour to assemble the Towers of Jenga, and as for the golems, Varrus crafted them limb by limb, then dropped the parts off for the magisters to put together. What really ate up his time was the creation of the Mana Stones, which with the 300% buff that he received when he was within the radius of the Sunwell, were absolute monsters.
If the largest Mana Stone he made before was the size of a large boulder, then now, each Master tier Mana Stone was the size of a school bus. These babies would be used in the upcoming war as fuel, as well as for the secret project Telonicus was working on.
It was tedious, mind numbing work, but it had to be done. Besides, Varrus was accustomed to grinding at this point. The only thing he missed, is that when he was in the mines, it was a solo operation.
Nightsong had gone off to join Rho''dan training the troops, Omen was sleeping at home like a good doggo, and Syra had gone off claiming she wanted to press a few more flowers into her diary before they went to war.
Varrus was actually fine with Syra''s arrangement, because after what she had gone through in the Emerald Dream, he figured that if she relaxed her mind, and engaged in her favorite horticulture hobby, it could only be a good thing.
Besides, she didn''t know about the adamantium buster sword. He couldn''t wait to make it, and gift it to her!
And so, the first day before their invasion was over, now it was on to day two.
Crafting the buster sword was easy, but damn did it take a ton of materials! By smelting down Thaladred''s suit of armor, half the bars went into the damned sword! He used the remaining material to make himself a full suit, and as he knew Syra didn''t wear much armor, made her a pair of gauntlets.
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
He also made himself a set of adamantium armor, but that wasn''t as exciting as the piece de resistance!
The 300% boosted Legendary Soul Gem!
Until now, this would be the strongest enchantment he had placed on an item. Varrus decided that this would be his masterpiece, he would create a Miracle.
Yes, in fact, under his Smithing skill tree, there was a perk by that name that had gone unused until this very moment.
Miracle - You put your heart and soul into the next item you enchant at an Arcane Nexus, placing up to three enchantments upon it that are 25% stronger. Try as you might, you will never be able to repeat this feat.
It was an absolutely incredible ability, one that he was loath to part with.
However, there was no better time than now. He had the weapon, he had the 300% buff-in addition to the various other enchanting buffs-and he had the Legendary Soul Gem. It was highly unlikely he would have better conditions to invoke a Miracle in quite some time.
Afterall, what kind of Soul Gem would be beyond Legendary? Godly?
Such a hopeful prospect seemed fanciful at the moment. Varrus couldn''t even tickle a God''s foot with the power he currently wielded. If the chasm between a Hero and a Demigod was vast, like a man challenging a car to a foot race, then the difference between a Demigod and a God was even more extreme.
With that in mind, Varrus enchanted the adamantium buster sword.
His enchantment perks, when combined, boosted any enchantment by 95%.
Enchanting Master: New enchantments are 40% stronger.
Gem Dust - You may choose to destroy a Flawless Gem when you begin the enchanting process and sprinkle its dust on the Arcane Enchanter. New enchantments are 25% stronger when placed upon an item of the type corresponding to the gem.
Regalia - New enchantments placed upon robes, circlets, hoods and necklaces are 30% stronger.
Add all these things together, and that was 300% + 95% + 25% = 420% increase.
That meant that this Legendary Soul Gem could output a mind boggling 21,504 stat points per enchantment. It was enough to make Varrus shake with excitement.
For context, Varrus had the 395% buff as a standard number on all his enchantments ever since the Sunwell returned.
The Grand Soul Gems he used on himself were each individually offering him 5,056 twice (since he could enchant any item with two enchantments). In total, he had 6 new pieces of gear enchanted, which provided him with 60,672 total stats. Or in practical terms, he was a low level Demigod, who could hang in Malfurion''s tier.
In comparison, Syra''s weapon would grant 64,512 stat points.
[Stat Point Distribution:
1 spirit = 2.5 mana +hp/sec
1 intellect = 10 mana
1 strength = 5 dmg on a weapon
1 agility = ¡Á0.05 cast/swing/move speed
1 stamina = 10 stamina + hp
1 spell power = 5 dmg on a spell
Petty: 5
Lesser: 20
Common: 80
Greater: 320
Grand: 1,280
Legendary: 5,120]
The creation of this weapon would easily upgrade his wife, and transform her into a true terror.
Of course, when it came to enchanted gear, he couldn''t stack the same stat on top of one another. So not all the points could go into something like say, str.
There also was the option to apply an offensive spell to the blade, like fire damage, or a vampiric effect. However, this would drain upon use, and as powerful as it would be, Varrus would rather modify Syra¡¯s stats.
Having a giant flaming black blade would be slick, but Syra was already proficient in a terrifying type of magic.
He decided for the three enchantments, to go with str, agi, and spell power.
Intelligence was left out, for the simple fact that mana pool wasn''t as important now that they had the Sunwell to draw upon.
As soon as Varrus took the black blade off the enchanters table, he held it aloft, and looked at it in wonder.
The midday sun reflected murderously off its edges, and Varrus was almost tempted to claim it as his own.
However, this weapon was better suited for a spellblade, which he was not. Sighing in admiration, Varrus put it in his inventory, and decided to find Syra and surprise her.
Rho''dan, who had been training nearby, and stepped over to see what Varrus was doing, whistled in admiration.
¡°A fine blade, Highlord, and a gift for the Lady?¡± Rho''dan questioned.
¡°Yes, it is magnificent. One day, I hope to clad you in a suit of similar material, refined to my standards of course.¡±
¡°Of course.¡± Rho''dan smiled at Varrus''s naked display of arrogance.
Varrus lightly chuckled at the byplay, then got serious.
¡°I take it you have something to report?¡±
¡°Nothing urgent, just a status update.¡± Rho''dan saluted, and handed some paperwork over.
Rubbing the bridge of his nose, Varrus began looking over the documentation, and signed his name in a few places. Most of the material was orders pertaining resource distribution, and needed his approval. Nothing earthshaking, but he oversaw food, potions, building construction, and now, the resources that would go to the Goblins. The little green gremlins were building factories where the Amani lands had been, and Varrus needed to sign off on some of their requests & provision them.
¡°Anything else?¡± Varrus questioned.
Rho''dan made a gesture, and a shroud of Muffle covered them.
¡°Vaermina has warned me that a great number of dreamers have suddenly vanished in a region on our continent. Millions. She hasn''t specified where exactly, and my connections do not reach deep outside of Quel''Thalas. All I can confirm is that our nation did not suffer any tragedy.¡± Rho''dan reported.
¡°Hmm, this is grim news. Lost souls means more bodies for the Scourge. Send a message to Gilneas, probe their sources, and see what you can discover.¡± Varrus said, stroking his chin in thought.
¡°Will do. On a less grim note, I have also looked into the various leaders, to discover what they are doing to prepare for this incursion. There is a detailed docket amongst the paperwork I handed you, but to keep it brief, morale is high, and we are ready to go. As for the rank and file, they were greatly affected by your speech, and felt a great sense of shame. Your words proved to be highly inspiring, and the act of restoring the Sunwell has engendered great confidence in the Vandercross name. For the first time since your first public appearance, your fame is net positive. Congratulations, Highlord.¡± Rho''dan this time, saluted with his fist, and bowed his head.
¡°Ah, don''t think I can''t see that cheeky grin there. Raise your head, let me get a good look at you.¡± Varrus smacked Rho''dan on the shoulder, and chuckled.
¡°Cheeky, sir? I am only proud of my service, to see you finally grow into your own. This is a great day for all of House Vandercross.¡± Rho''dan raised his head, and smiled at Varrus with an expression full of pride.
Now it was Varrus''s turn to feel embarrassed, as now it felt like he was being praised by an Uncle for moving out, and being on his own.
Blowing away a strand of loose hair, Varrus rolled his eyes at Rho''dan, then turned away and crossed his arms.
¡°Well, if that''s all you have to report, I''ll be seeing my wife then.¡±
¡°You do that, Highlord. I''ll see you before we set out, the men are eager to smash the Scourge to bits.¡± Rho''dan nodded his head, then departed.
As soon as he left, Varrus went to find Syra.
However, while he searched after her, he couldn''t help but have a niggling thought in the back of his head.
Who was the culprit that silenced millions in a day?
~~~~~~~~~~~
AN: Checkout my new story, Jedi Insurgency: https://www.webnovel.com/book/32311135200950405
Chapter 166
Following Clairvoyance, the blue trail ended up taking him out of Quel''Danas, past Silvermoon, and to a clearing in the Eversong Woods.
As he advanced, Varrus took note of a few woodland creatures, such as mice, deer, and fox, yet they were few in number. The Scourge''s influence had been eliminated in this region, but the hidden scars it left behind would likely take generations to heal.
While he had cleansed the land, he couldn''t return something to life. Large swathes of trees were missing, and it pained Varrus to see this once lush, and vibrant land transformed into a hollow shade of its former glory.
Taking a deep breath, Varrus vowed to eliminate all of Quel''Thalas''s foes, so that something so tragic never happened again. If he was going to bring life into this world, and seriously raise a family, he wanted his children to grow up in paradise. There was no sacrifice he wouldn''t make for their upbringing, and his wife''s happiness.
Keeping that thought in mind, Varrus hopped off his flying carpet, and strolled towards Syra''s position. They were now close enough that he could feel a slight tug on his bound item that she carried on her.
Moving with a spring in his step, Varrus inhaled the cool air, and scattered clouds with a grand smile. Varrus had dreamed of gifting her this buster sword for months, he couldn''t wait to see the look on her face!
As he drew near, Varrus recognized this particular section of forest as the place where Syra had claimed her first kill.
¡®A peculiar place to search for a flower.¡¯ Varruz thought to himself, and arched an eyebrow in worry.
It seemed that the dream might have affected her more than he had anticipated. Knowing her, she had come to this place as a sort of ''comfort.'' Because through all the abuse and crazy fuckery she went through as a child, Syra was particularly proud of this kill.
Sighing to himself, Varrus made sure he was wearing his happiest, brightest expression. If Syra was hurting right now, he hoped he could make her smile.
As a bonus gift, he had another head to handover. He knew how crazy people in Warcraft were over these things, and Xavius''s ugly mug was comfy in his inventory at the moment. Such a thought got Varrus wondering. How many would he collect within the next ten years?
A funny thought came to mind, what if he collected so many heads of bad guys, that he could assemble his own choir, like the singing heads in the haunted mansion? Chuckling to himself, Varrus finally approached the spot where Syra had hidden herself.
Hidden amongst a clearing, Varrus saw Syra, flanked by the Illidari Council, and three other Elves facing them on their knees, with their heads bowed. He vaguely recognized one of the Elves as the astromancer who called him out months ago when he gave his speech at the funeral that took place after they retook Silvermoon.
If he recalled, the astromancer was a Hero, who in canon, was a boss in a raid, one who was highly proficient in the Void. In fact, all three of them were radiating enough mana, that any one of them could be a Hero!
¡®Well, good news is, Syra isn''t depressed. Weird news is, what is she doing with this trio, and should I be concerned with this?¡¯ Varrus thought to himself in a mixture of relief and confusion.
Pausing in his step, Varrus observed from behind a tree, yet thanks to the nature of bound items, Syra was sure to have felt his presence. Regardless, he cast an invisibility spell, and listened in, curious to see what Syra was conducting out here in the boondocks.
¡°Astromamcer Solarian, Magister Umbric, Voidmaster Evenshade, do you think yourself worthy of my teachings? Do you call yourselves my followers?¡± Syra questioned the kneeling Elves.
¡°Yes, Lady Vandercross.¡± The three Elves replied.
¡®So her name was Solarian, now I recall. I had wiped against her several times. She had a bullshit ability, Wrath of the Astromancer, which increased damage taken by Arcane by 50%, stacking up to 10 times! If she is here, kneeling at Syra''s feet, then that is something! Umbric is also a familiar name¡that should be the dude who founded the Void Elf capitol alongside Alleria Windrunner. As for the last guy, hmm, I have no clue who he is.¡¯ Varrus thought to himself, and was wondering just what the hell Syra was trying to pull here. Some ritual perhaps?
Whatever the case may be, Varrus was sure to perk his ears, and listen to every word she said.
¡°...do not reject my touch. Should any of you harbor maligned intentions towards myself or my family, you know the consequences.¡±
Upon finishing her statement, three purple-golden beams sprang from her hand, and began ¡®shocking¡¯ the three supplicants.
After a minute of this going on, the Voidmaster''s skin turned completely purple, and his eyes golden.
¡°I can feel it! The power, it is incredible! Ha. I am a God!¡± The Elf proclaimed, then a second later, he exploded into a puddle of blood and gore.
The power of Holy Void that Syra was channeling instantly consumed the corpse, and all its bits, leaving nothing behind.
This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
Sweating profusely, the other two supplicants bowed their heads, and began chanting some mantra that Varrus didn''t recognize.
After a full 10 minutes had gone by, Syra released her hold on them, and stepped back.
¡°Rise, and welcome to the Illidari Council.¡± Syra said with some difficulty.
Varrus chuckled to himself. It wasn''t difficult for her to say those words because she was exhausted, he knew that she just really didn''t want to talk to them!
He really wanted to laugh louder when he saw her ears twitch, she had very obviously heard him!
However, his laughter was cut when he saw all the members of the Illidari exhibit the distinct purple-gold ability that had until now been exclusive to his wife!
Choking on some spit, Varrus''s eyes went wide.
¡®Wow, she actually listened to my suggestion! Back when I mentioned teaching people to mix the Light and Void during our Gilneas campaign, I never imagined she''d actually do it! Especially with how much she hated talking to people!¡¯ Varrus stared blankly ahead, stunned by this monumental accomplishment.
The power of Holy Void was genuinely some bullshit. The Illidari Council already were individually as strong as a low tier Hero. They had been gifted enchanted gear, and as a unit, could take on the likes of mid tier Heroes like Tae''thelon or Thaladred. Now that they had this buff, Varrus wondered if they could threaten a high tier Hero, or as a group of 6, if they could take on a Legendary Hero like Thrall or Jaina.
At the end of the day though, this was a win for his family. Whilst Syra''s forces weren''t beholden to him, he was happy to see them grow. To him, Syra wasn''t just some wall flower that needed his constant protection. She not only had her own personal power, but controlled arguably the 4th or 5th most powerful faction in the nation.
That might not seem impressive, but it was!
Off the top of his head, he could think of 7 factions, and would roughly rank them in this order:
#1 Royal Guard
#2 House Vandercross + Crossguard
#3 Magisters
#4 Illidari Council
#5 Blood Knights + Church (Paladins/Priests)
#6 Rangers
#7 Knights of the Hawk (Dragonhawk knights)
#??? Faedra''s Assassins
It might seem insane to put such an organization above larger bodies, like the Rangers. But the Rangers only had Arcane Arrows going for them, and numbers. If he was to compare them to an equivalent from Earth, they were like a ragtag militia of thousands with AK''s-47''s in comparison to 6 main battle tanks. Each had their own use, but the power of Holy Void wielding Heroes could not be understated!
Varrus was happily thinking about his wife''s success, it wasn''t until he felt a sharp poke in his side-breaking his invisibility-that he realized he had been caught up in his thoughts.
Belatedly, he realized the Illidari Council were long gone.
¡°Ah, how long were you standing there for?¡± Varrus scratched the back of his head in embarrassment.
¡°Oh, only about 10 minutes.¡± Syra grinned at him, and clunked him on the forehead.
She then took him by the hand, and spun around.
Moving with her, Varrus went with the impromptu movement, and tossed her in the air.
¡°All done with your work for the day?¡± Syra questioned, then did a somersault, and landed on the branch of a tree.
¡°More or less.¡± Varrus said, and hopped up next to her.
Syra kissed him on the cheek, then snuggled up next to him. Gripping his arm tightly-but not to the point of pain-Syra rubbed her face on his chest, and smiled brightly.
¡°Good, then we can have some fun~¡± Syra exclaimed excitedly.
Internally, Varrus agreed. Right about now felt like it would be a good time to unwind, and make some love. Or at least that''s what he thought, but the smooth hand pushing him off the branch had other ideas.
Performing a front flip, Varrus landed on his, and glared up at his wife.
Sticking her tongue out, Syra drew her sword, and jumped down after him.
¡°Engarde!¡± Syra said, and flourished her blade.
Thankfully, she wasn''t using her speed to its fullest, nor was she suffusing her body with Holy Void energy. It was an unspoken agreement, but in that second when she charged at him, both silently agreed not to use any magic for this friendly spar. It was purely a competition of skill.
That being said, Varrus still had to draw his sword in a hurry!
Barely unsheathing his weapon in time, Varrus tried to parry Syra''s weapon away, but the giant slab of metal had superior reach, and bullied him backwards.
Grinning at him, Syra pressed him further and further back. Along the way, she cut a tree in half, and created a few furrows in the ground. If Varrus didn''t know better, and had come upon the scene, he would say her sword marks were like that of a plow!
As he was pressed back, Varrus admired Syra''s skill with the sword. The way she twisted, turned, stabbed, slashed, and moved, it was like watching a performance. She was fluid, yet strong, graceful yet tyrannical. Her style was so different from Rho''dan''s straightforward approach, Lor''Themar''s skirmishing methodology, and Nightsong''s overwhelming pressure.
Syra fought like a hunter, a killer that was aroused from the thoughts of her prey''s brutal demise. The way her blade fell upon him, he had no doubts that in another life, she would be a premier berserker. Yet her training as a rogue had made her an efficient machine, one with which Varrus saw no exploits to abuse.
Meanwhile, Varrrus''s own fighting style was more focused on parries, blocks, and staying alive. In short, if he was within melee range of his opponents, then something was very wrong. The sword was his last line of defense, and was used primarily to buy time so he could cast more spells.
This ethos was reflected in his fighting style. It was perhaps cowardly, but survival was the better part of valor in Varrus''s book.
As someone who had no training whatsoever half a year ago, he thought he was comporting himself rather well.
Redirecting Syra''s sword into a nearby stream, Varrus was feeling confident, and extended his leg to trip her, only for her to kick it back.
Stumbling on his back foot, Varrus''s positioning became unstable, and he lost his balance whilst backpedaling from Syra''s renewed aggression.
¡®Well, 100 skill points in One Handed may make me a savant, but true geniuses who have trained all their lives are still a hurdle to pass.¡¯ Varrus cheekily lamented to himself as his defeat seemed all but certain.
As if to prove this point, Syra began to giggle as he stumbled over backwards on top of a tree root.
Before he could make a further move, Syra had the point of her sword at his chin.
¡°You got me.¡± Varrus said playfully, and dropped his sword.
Syra sheathed her own, then held out a hand to help him up.
¡°So, what did you want to do?¡± Syra, now warmed up, approached him huskily.
¡°I''m glad you asked. Say hello to my little friend!¡± Varrus said in an accented voice, and reached into his robe pocket.
When it looked like he was going to reveal himself, Varrus activated his inventory, and pulled out the giant black adamantium buster sword instead.
¡°Here you go, it''s all yours!¡± Varrus planted the sword in the ground, and nodded at her.
Syra gasped, and stared at the weapon, mesmerized.
Varrus grinned at her, and found that she was practically in a trance looking at this weapon.
Laughing to himself, Varrus never realized she was in this deep! It was like watching one of those super collectors going gaga over a rare car, or MTG card.
Except this was his wife!
Feeling good about his decision, Varrus basked in his wife''s awed silence. For once, it was his turn to watch as Syra lost her attention span, and focused solely on something.
¡°Well, give it a swing, why dontcha?¡± Varrus said playfully, and poked her in the side.
Syra blinked at him slowly, and owlishly, as if she had just woken up from a deep slumber.
¡°Heh.¡± Varrus winked, then clunked his forehead on hers as a wakeup call.
Holding her hand out, Syra began to tremble, she then clasped the hilt of the blade, and a wide, uncontrollable smile of sunshine blossomed across her face.
Radiating a metric fuckton of Light energy-the most accurate measurement, Varrus was sure-the surrounding landscape seemed to brighten up, and Varrus''s breaths became easier. An aura of pure bliss, and innocent joy suffused the air.
Lifting the blade up, like King Arthur pulling Excalibur from the stone, Syra pointed it towards the sun, then swung it down.
A single crisp sound rang out, and birds were scared into flight for miles all around.
Binding it to herself, Syra started to play around with it like a kid that got their first phone. She was absolutely addicted!
Smiling to himself, Varrus drank in her childish amusement, and was just happy to be along for the ride.
¡®Ah, it was all worth it.¡¯ Varrus thought to himself.
Conjuring a bench, Varrus watched on as Syra super speed blitzed around, and practiced all her forms, working up a sweat.
An hour passed like this, and when Varrus thought she would keep going. Syra jumped in front of him, and grabbed him by the scruff of his neck.
Ripping his cloak off him, she looked at him like a beast ready to ravage its prey.
Grinning to himself, Varrus embraced Syra, and got down to business.
The gift was a huge success!
Chapter 167
After some much needed R&R with Syra (Re: extreme baby making sex), the third and final day before the invasion was set to take place had arrived.
It was early morning, and Varrus was on his mansion''s balcony in a bathrobe, enjoying the sunrise, a piece of buttered toast, and a glass of orange juice.
Syra was still asleep, Omen was resting silently by his side, content to do nothing, and Varrus was taking this alone time to just have a moment of no thoughts, head empty.
Sometimes, a man just needed time to himself. No office work, no grinding, no women. Just himself, and his thoughts.
Watching the sun slowly make its ascent, and feeling the slight warmth on his skin, Varrus took a sip of his juice, and took a moment to appreciate life.
It was funny to think that compared to the planet, the sun, and the universe, he was like a tiny ant. That the Kingdom of Quel''Thalas that the Elves were so smug over was less than 7,000 years old. A huge amount of time to a Human, but insignificant in the grand scheme of things.
Chuckling to himself, Varrus held up his orange juice, and made a salute.
¡°Here''s to you universe, God, or whoever makes the lights run. Thanks for everything.¡± Varrus said half sardonically, half serious.
It was a surreal feeling to have the day before all hell would break loose.
Varrus was about to embark on the largest campaign of his life. Millions of lives would be impacted, and the future of countless sentients rested on his shoulders.
He never signed up to be some hero, or save the world, all he wanted to do was have a family, and fuck off to some private island. All the petty backstabbing could be left to Kael, and all Varrus would have to do is provide some input every once in a while.
¡°Ah, what a fanciful dream.¡± Varrus said, and glanced at his empty glass in disappointment.
If only the damned smug Elves were self-sufficient. Sadly, they were all like a pack of Roman senators, and drama queens. All vying for favor, and just two days ago, Varrus had caught them slipping.
Sadly, he''d have to stay in his spot as First Seat at all times. Otherwise, some upjumped idiot like Drathir Dar''Kahn would throw the realm into chaos again.
¡°Haaah, I''ll never get to retire.¡± Varrus sighed.
Once he solved this Plaguelands bullshit, there would be dozens of things pressing on him. As wild as it may seem, the zombie apocalypse was somehow the least of his concerns.
Elemental Lords, the other Aspects, Titan Keepers, Old Gods, Daedric Princes, and more.
His only solace was that before the canonical start of WoW, he should be in a prime spot to nip a few problems in the bud.
The Night Elves, for example, no longer had to worry about the Satyr problem anymore, now that the only semi sane one among them is dead. Bonus for Varrus, the insane Warden, Maeve, was apparently his grandmother in law, and they had killed Tyrande.
With no witnesses, Varrus was practically coasting to victory, dragging the Night Elves into the Covenant. It was a semi bitter victory too, since he could attribute half the legwork to Faedra.
Just a day ago, he wanted to smack her, but now, she proved herself invaluable yet again by adding another race to the Elven Empire.
Varrus truly didn''t know if she was incompetent, or 100% conniving bitch, and it drove him mad.
After all, if she was so smart, why didn''t she stop Arthas, or account for Drathir Dar''Kahn''s betrayal? If she was so strong, why didn''t she personally fight during the Scourge Invasion?
On the other hand, the Troll assault was blunted, the Kobolds willingly became his vassals, and now the Night Elves were all but secured due to her actions.
To top it all off, she raised the most dangerous killer in all of Quel''Thalas, and married her to the most prominent politician''s son in a marriage alliance.
¡..perhaps he was being a little naive when it came to Faedra. It was easy to throw her into the trope of spymaster/perfect assassin, but was that accurate?
People who watched movies thought the CIA were monolithic super killers. In reality, 90% of CIA employees are regular desk jockeys. Yeah, they got shit done, but they failed too.
Perhaps Faedra was a conniving bitch, perhaps she was competent, and perhaps she has had some major fuckups.
At the end of the day, Varrus could only interpret her actions as a net positive. But God did he want to give her a good one-two smack to the face!
Ultimately, Varrus decided he didn''t want to kill her, or lose her expertise, however, she did need to be taught a lesson. The last time he had brute forced his way into her lair, she had been mildly sarcastic, and not at all threatened.
Hmm, now that his spell power was so great, perhaps he could do something harmless, yet demeaning? Polymorph her into a toad perhaps? Or maybe something more subtle. That woman was proud, but being turned into a toad might just get a laugh out of her. His mother-in-law truly was the most annoying existence in this second life.
Banging the back of his head against his chair, Varrus found his perfect, peaceful morning of reflection all but ruined as thoughts of that lipsticked, high heeled woman came to mind.
The act of banging his head acted as a catalyst, and all the muscles in his body began to ache.
The infinite stamina granted by the Sunwell had been great for making love, but by the Gods was that woman never satisfied!
Even a magical portal that drew upon a God-Azeroth''s-essence wasn''t enough to satiate his wife!
Syra had worked him like a perpetual motion machine.
Honestly, it was a wonder seeing how much his output had increased. He almost couldn''t blame those chuckleheads for partying like the world was ending tomorrow.
¡°Ah.¡± Varrus hissed as he worked the muscle.
¡°You know you could just blast that spot with some Light attuned magic, right?¡± Rho''dan said as he climbed up some vines that were clinging to the side of the balcony.
In his hands he had a large pile of documents.
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Varrus all but blanched as he saw the paperwork, his face going white, and his hand beginning to cramp from the amount of times he had written his response.
¡°By the Gods man, I thought I already took care of all the reports, memos, and orders that needed to be seen.¡±
He thought that working with excel had broken his mind. Yet real, physical paperwork was so much worse.
¡®Just how did the businessmen of the 1900''s put up with this shit?¡¯ Varrus wondered to himself, and discovered a newfound respect for the men and women who had no better alternative.
Rho''dan, for the briefest of moments, broke character. A small smile crested the edge of his lips, and then it was gone.
¡°Indeed you have, Highlord. These were simply some documents I was perusing on the way here. As your steward, I must determine what is important enough for you to see, and what is a waste of your time.¡± Rho''dan bowed with a perfectly straight face.
¡®Smugass.¡¯ Varrus thought to himself as he glanced at his intrepid bodyguard.
¡°Then you''re here because¡¡± Varrus waved his hand at Rho''dan impatiently, and said trailingly.
¡°You''ve been invited.¡± Rho''dan held out a scroll.
Unfurling the blasted piece of paper, Varrus noted that it had enchantments placed upon its edges, preserving its freshness. Few orders received this treatment. As far as Varrus recalled, only treaties, laws, and agreements lasting over 50 years would be enchanted.
Arching an eyebrow at Rho''dan, Varrus wondered who would be so audacious as to send him an invite so near to his planned invasion of the Human lands.
In fact, shouldn''t they be waiting on his pleasure in some side chamber getting stonewalled by Rho''dan, and bureaucratic nonsense?
¡®Seriously, what is Rho''dan thinking?¡¯ Varrus scoffed to himself.
However, as he fully unfurled the scroll, Varrus couldn''t help but put a hand to a palm.
There were, in fact, two scrolls, and on each of them, there was a drawing.
One almost looked like it was done in crayon, and was of an Elf boy slaying a Troll. Dredging up memories long past, this was something Varrus had gifted to Nightsong when he was less than three years old.
The fact she had it stored somewhere-likely placed within her tomb by papa Vandercross-really hit home for Varrus how great her loss had been.
Taking a deep breath, Varrus unfurled the other sheath of paper, and it was a family portrait of the three of them. Varrus, his father, and mother. Except it wasn¡¯t of the past, but a reimagined portrait with Varrus''s adult self standing in between his parents.
Wiping away a tear, Varrus placed both of the papers in his inventory.
Exhaling some heavy air, Varrus found he didn''t have the energy to banter with Rho''dan anymore, all he wanted to do was see his mother.
¡°Where is she?¡±
¡°Off the northern shores of Quel''Danas. At that place.¡± Rho''dan bowed, and stepped back, a hint of softness in his tone of voice.
¡°Watch over the house.¡± Varrus said, turning to Omen. He then raised his hands to cast some magic.
Activating the Milestone spell-an Alteration spell that allowed him to place 5 teleportation anchors anywhere-Varrus instantly teleported to the base of the Sunwell.
He then tossed out his flying carpet, and flew towards the northern tip of the island. Varrus didn''t need Clairvoyance to know where Nightsong was waiting for him.
Coming to the place of a burnt out home, the burnt out home where Nightsong had been ambushed, and gave her life to save his, Varrus felt his heart constrict. Memories of an ambush, of the adventurers brought through time lewdly discussing what to do with his mother.
Clenching his fist, he recalled the feeling of hiding under a cloak of invisibility, and shivering in the night breeze as he made his escape. Although he hadn''t personally lived it, the memories came to him unbidden, like a childhood trauma.
Frowning to himself, Varrus shook his head, and with it, the negative thoughts away.
Varrus alighted from his ride and saw Nightsong standing on the beach. Her long hair was kept braided, and her mature countenance that inspired confidence in the men seemed oh so weary in Varrus''s eyes.
However, her bare feet stuck in the wet sand, and a pair of painting boards resting on easels told a different story.
¡°Good morning.¡± Varrus said with a smile as he approached Nightsong for a hug.
¡°Have you eaten?¡± Nightsong inquired.
¡°A piece of toast and some orange juice.¡± Varrus nodded, and stepped back.
¡°Mn, very good. Your efforts to cleanse the land, and save the farmers have paid off. As a leader, and politician, no one will ever thank you for these things. Always remember this.¡± Nightsong said, turning her back to him as she started to paint.
¡°Yeah. It''s something I realized a long time ago. Trying to meet people''s expectations is challenging¡so I just do my own thing, and if it works out, well, I''m happy. If they don''t like it, well, I''ll let Rho''dan get an earful.¡± Varrus sported a small smile as he took up a brush, and paint palette.
Looking at the blank canvas, Varrus remembered he couldn''t paint. In fact, he was a musical savant thanks to his perks/skills, but art never was his forte.
¡°Hmm. It is good to take criticism into account, but never let the masses dictate what should be done. Be stern, yet fair, and even the most willful Elf will bend to answer your call. What you have done. Establishing the Sunwell. It is a good thing. But as I warned your father, I will warn you too. Do not become beholden to it. It is a power misunderstood by Elves, and its progenitor, the Well of Eternity transformed us from Trolls into what we are. What other influence does it hold over us, I wonder?¡± Nightsong said aloud, almost as if she was questioning herself more so than cautioning Varrus.
Beginning his painting, Varrus stewed on Nightsong''s words for some time.
What indeed, was the influence of the Sunwell? Was the birth of the Elf an accidental creation? Or perhaps, was Azeroth, the Goddess, trying her hand at something?
With how little he knew of the slumbering Goddess, Varrus found that it was an uncomfortable question.
As a magic addict, and someone who wanted his race to prosper, restoring the Sunwell had been his goal since day one.
¡.in fact, his system had set that as his very first quest.
Tsking to himself, Varrus found he had botched his painting and accidentally mixed brown and red where he intended for a different combination.
¡°You lack focus. Center yourself. Breath.¡±
¡°It is so hard. I have been battling for Quel''Thalas every day for over 6 months. Every night, I am casting spells, creating Mana Stones. Every day, I am either: fighting, cleansing the land, holding meetings, building things, making weapons, signing papers, managing my wife''s murderous tendencies, etc. What is this if not focus?¡± Varrus bit back bitterly, feeling overworked.
¡°You are grown. No longer a playboy. You are Varrus Vandercross. You sign away the fate of thousands with the stroke of a pen. You create thousands of armors in the span of an hour that master craftsmen spent thousands of years learning how to make, and take a month to make one full set. You cured the incurable, and brought back the impossible. Every Elf wishes he could be you, if not that, to sleep with you. You are my son, you will persevere, and you will find focus.¡± Nightsong finished by flourishing her paint brush, and turning to Varrus with a stern, motherly command.
Glancing over his shoulder, Varrus''s eyes widened as he realized what she had painted on her canvas.
Hidden within her seemingly normal painting of a tower were runes.
The symbols seemed so familiar as they burned themselves into his retina.
White, orange, and blue ethereal light left the pages of the paper, and entered his very spirit.
Feeling an uplifting in his soul, Varrus found the symbols seared into his mind, just like how the Greybeards taught the Dragonborn.
Opening his lips, Varrus turned out to the gentle rolling waves of the North Sea, and shouted.
¡°Fus. Roh. Dah!¡±
A wave of uncontrollable force spread out from his position, and almost seemed to rock the world.
Looking to his mother, Varrus felt humbled, and stood still in awe, hoping she would impart to him more words. He had so many questions for her, and wanted to ask about her origins, yet she spoke first.
¡°Go back. Prepare. Remember what you are struggling for. Find your focus.¡±
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
AN: People seemed to really like Vanderdad, but Nightmom ain''t half bad, eh?
Checkout my new story: Jedi Insurgency https://www.webnovel.com/book/32311135200950405