Chapter Two: The Will of the Lord of Outland
Three minutes later, Nethermancer Morrith made a gesture with one hand, casting a simple cantrip spell to cause the flaps of the tent command tent to billow aside as she stepped outside into the alien landscape of netherstorm, making her way towards the camp’s muster ground. Following just behind her was the winged form of Vexi, the succubus moving with an almost weightless bounce to each step and a sly grin on her crimson lips, her fel eyes shifting eagerly between Morrith and the rest of the camp. Vexi was a head taller than Morrith, standing at 6,7ft in height, although it was easy to forget that fact given how the demon’s preferred pose tended to be that of either lying down; bending over; sitting, or a combination of the aforementioned three. The demon had also brought her two favorite toys. One was a vicious, barbed whip coiled between her hands as she casually toyed with it, as well as an elaborate ritualistic dagger that looked more akin to a creative implement of torture rather than a practical weapon as it hung unsheathed from a golden thread by the succubus’ wide hips.
Morrith herself was clad in her usual gold and red robes; alongside an ornately decorated cuirass; a set of armored gloves; thigh high greaves, as well as a set of light epaulets resting on her narrow shoulders, one of them in the shape of an eagle’s wing. Deep red bloodshards were socketed into pieces of her armor, surrounded by engraved geometrical patterns along the surface of the armor designed to funnel the power of the gems and conjoin it with her own spells. A heavy, red leather grimoire decorated with golden filigree hung in a baldric across her torso; filled with a lifetime of accumulated spells and research. At her side, a light truesilver blade was sheathed in a decorated, and in her right hand she carried a sleek and elegant golden staff. It was fashioned in the shape of an eagle’s claw, holding a sickly green felshard gem in its grip. Her platinum blond hair was tied up behind her in a long ponytail, and a gilded faceguard covered the sides of her face, with dormant runes and enchantment of spell protection engraved into the fluted ridges of the metal.
The crystalline alien soil cracked like tiny slivers of glass under her boots as she walked. There was a strong breeze in the air now that picked up dust and razor sharp rock particles, throwing them across the camp ground around crimson tents and beneath billowing black banners. She looked up towards the tumultuous ether sky. Now would be a bad time for a dust storm, Morrith thought. Not only would the reduced visibility be an open invitation for the demons from the nearby invasion point to come over and pay them a visit; it would also make it a lot more dangerous for them to deal with the fel orcs. It made the scholarly part of Morrith start to question if there existed some kind of cosmic law that decreed that all bad things come at least in pairs.
Looking back down, she could see nearly the entirety of the camp’s inhabitants gathered in the muster ground. About thirty Blood Elves of Kael’thas’ Sunfury force in total, dressed in their stylish customary black, red and gold armor, although the inhospitable land had left small nicks and dents in their otherwise immaculately maintained armor, and the nether infused soil had left turquoise and violet discolorations along the exposed edges of their cloaks and robes.
“You elves sure know how to make yourselves presentable… “ The succubus’s ethereal voice purred as Vexi’s eyes drifted towards the perfect formations of the elves before them with an almost famished grin on her face.
“Please do not ogle the troops, Vexi. They have enough to worry about without you getting involved.” Morrith said simply as she continued to walk forward, eyes fixed straight ahead.
There, standing tall in the center of the gathering was Ranger Captain Alethoren. He was clad in the same black and red mail armor as the rangers under his command, while his rank was denoted by a stylized rising eagle emblazoned upon his dark chestplate, as well as a crimson cloak trimmed with beautiful golden thread. His long blonde hair was tied behind behind his back, and he held a gleaming, wing-shaped bow ready in one hand.
Behind him stood six dark armored bloodwardens in a perfect line, silent as statues as they gazed ahead through the narrow visors of their crimson helmets. With them were two spell breakers that she identified by their tall, red shields inscribed with elaborate Thalassian runes of anti magic and spellwarding. Held in their other gauntlet were gleaming, two-bladed swords inscribed with similar runes; esoteric mage killer weapons that Morrith knew they could wield with frightening skill and lethality. A little to Ranger Captain Alethoren’s left and a few steps backwards stood the black haired Verrathian, who noticed Morrith the moment she left the tent. He tossed her a smile, and made a gesture for her to join them with a gloved and. Although she could also see a distinct twitch in Verrathian’s face when he noticed the demon walking with her, and Vexi noticed him.
“Nethermancer Morrith, I am glad you could make it.” A crisp, clear voice said as Ranger Captain Alethoren’s head snapped to her as she approached. The expression on his smooth and angular face was strict and neutral, and his skin had the eternal youthfulness so common among the elven with not a single scar visible. But his eyes spoke a different story, for he had the dispassionate gaze of a man who had seen millennia gone by, and witnessed both the best and the worst of history.
“Ranger Captain Alethoren. How may I be of service?” Morrith said in greeting, looking out across the gathered soldiers around them.
“I apologize for interrupting your meditations on such a short notice, Nethermancer, but we have a situation. Are your spells ready for combat?” Despite the apology, Morrith could hear no tone of concern in Alethoren’s voice, but neither could see hear any ill will.
“They are.”
“Good.“ The Ranger Captain nodded, before he turned towards a pair of magisters standing nearby.
“Magister Theravor, Magister Alisah, I want you to support Nethermancer Morrith. If we need to put these fel blooded savages down, then I want you in the role of magical artillery.”
Captain Alethoren commanded, and two blood elven magisters saluted before stepping forward, one male while the other one was female. They were garbed in the crimson battle robes of the magisters, and each of them held a golden staff with a spellbook hanging by their waist. Morrith glanced at them, then back towards Alethoren.
“What is the situation?”
“About two dozen fel orcs have been spotted marching towards our camp, being lead by a demon. They carry the colors of the Illidari, but their arrival is unannounced, and we do not know their intentions. We are not letting them near our camp until we know more. This could very well be a Legion ploy.”
“I agree. You have the support of me and my magisters.” Morrith nodded her approval.
Trickery, mind control, illusion and possession were all popular tricks with the agents of the Burning Legion; especially by their Nathrezim type demons. It would not be the first time they had tried to disguise a cohort of demons as mortals, or for one of them to even assume control over a group of mortals, be it trickery or mind control. And fel orcs were not exactly renowned for their incorruptible nature, their clever understanding of the arcane or their proficiency in anti magic wards and spells.
“It seems we have the role of magical artillery yet again.” Magister Theravor spoke from behind with a smug smile and chuckle. Physically speaking, Theravor was handsome, even for an elf. It would have been a fact Morrith could have appreciated, if it hadn’t been for his personality and general disregard for uniform standards.
“I think you should let me or Theravor take the lead for a change. The havoc you can weave with frost and arcane is impressive, Morrith, but we are the Sin’Dorei. I think we are due a show from a qualified pyromancer for a change.” Alisah chuckled, the auburn haired elf flashing a smile towards Theravor besides her. The left side of the pyromancer’s face was decorated with an intricately drawn tattoo of a rising phoenix of black ink that glowed with a flame like effect inside of the ink. Lurking on her left epaulet was a small, burning phoenix familiar. The bird-like elemental being no larger than a hawk. It was a far cry from Al’ar; the great phoenix summoned by Prince Kael’thas himself; but the familiar nonetheless aided Alisah’s pyromancy and had earned her no small amount of respect and admiration from the rest of the Sunfury troops, whom saw it as a symbol.
The exact opposite of the reception Morrith’s own demon summoning had received.
“Ah, takes me back to the smell of roast orc when we began this campaign under Lord Illidan. You have my vote, Ali.” Theravor chuckled in return and threw a wink towards Alisah, who grinned slyly in return; the flame like effect of her tattoo intensifying.
“Hello Theravor… “ The melodic voice of Vexi hummed as the demoness peered towards Theravor with a fanged smirk.
“Oh, uhm… hi, Vexi.” Any confidence Theravor may have held seemed to melt away when the demon addressed him and the magister met the succubus’s gaze.
“Still with the Nethermancer, I see?”
Vexi; still holding true to her conviction that personal space was a myth; had already sauntered right up to the male magister and raised a perfect clawed finger to stroke at the side of his cheek. The mere contact caused Theravor to elicit a slight gasp, freezing up on the spot!
“Of course. But I could always make time for you two… “ Vexi crooned, turning to meet the spiteful glare she was receiving from magister Alisah. But when the demon’s eyes met those of the female magister, the anger suddenly vanished from Alisah’s face to be instantly replaced with a blank gaze. The small phoenix familiar; noticing what was happening; flapped its fiery wings and let out an angry, smoldering squawk towards the demoness!
“Please stop trying to devour my assistants, Vexi. I need them.” Morrith instructed, and whatever trance it was that had taken Alisah and Theravor was dispelled as the demoness turned to smile back at Morrith.
“Of course, mistress. I was just playing with them. You are so lucky to have such cute treasures under your command.” The succubus let out an echoing giggle, sauntering over to position herself behind Theravor and Alisah.
“Not with my priorities. If you value competence and ability, then I consider myself thoroughly unlucky.”
Morrith muttered as she glanced over her shoulder. The fact that the demon was now out of their line of sight seemed to have done little to improve the mood of either of the two magisters. Theravor was fighting a personal battle to keep his eyes straight and ignoring the demon regarding them from behind, while Alisah was rubbing her forehea, her skin a deep flush of red at the moment. She glared towards Morrith.
“Are you sure that thing is leashed.” Alisah asked with a tone of annoyance, scratching at the magical flame-wreathed feathers of her phoenix familiar to calm the elemental down.
“Yes, but if you two don’t focus on the task assigned to us by the Ranger Captain, I might just let go of said leash.”
Morrith answered as she gazed ahead, even though her eyes felt as though they were ready to roll up in her skull. How come she always ended up with the imbeciles, whether it was troop assignments or even demonic summonings from the Twisting Nether itself? She gazed towards the veteran rangers under Alethoren’s command, envious of their perfect discipline. Each one of them was like a silent statue, ready to immediately spring into action at the slightest gesture from their commander. Privately, she wished the fel orcs could just pick up the pace and hurry over to their camp already!
“Do not worry, Ali. I am sure she is just joking.” Theravor chuckled nervously, some of his mirth returning. Alisah gave him a sideways look.
“This is the worst assignment… “ She muttered.
With her magisters at her side; and about as ready as she could ever hope them to be; Morrith turned her attention towards the road leading into their camp. The camp had been positioned atop a hill, with a winding road leading up to it through a jagged ravine of sharp rocks and steep cliff sides; while the side of their camp that was facing the direction of the legion base was a long, sloping barren nether landscape constantly illuminated by the flashing magical sky above, and with little to no cover. The location had been chosen because it favored the long range and hit-and-run tactics of Alethoren’s rangers that made up most of the soldiers in the camp, but Morrith could also appreciate the terrain. The tight, channeled pathways through the ravine could be turned into veritable slaughterhouses of razor ice and lethal cold, while the open area facing the legion camp was a shooting gallery for ray and bomb spells. Any unwelcome guest that tried to approach their camp was going to have a bad time, to put it lightly.
A total of seventeen rangers were present. Instead of standing in the center of the camp with the rest, the rangers were positioned at the top of the ridgeline surrounding the mouth of the camp, giving them a perfect view down towards the winding road below. Each of them had their eagle winged bows with an arrow between their fingers, ready to draw and fire on a moment’s notice. Every single one of Alethoren’s rangers was a veteran with centuries of experience, dating back from before the fall of Quel’thalas and able to reliably put a precisely aimed arrow into the throat or armor weakpoint of a foe from hundreds of yards away. Most of them had fought against the Amani trolls, witnessed the fall of Quel’thalas, fought through Kael’thas’s campaigns in both Lordaeron, Outland and even Icecrown. Having them at the ready brought a measure of confidence to Morrith.
Even at this distance, she could tell that they had swapped out their sanctified truesilver tipped arrowheads designed for demonslaying with more conventional mithril tipped ones instead. Likely also poisoned for added effect against flesh and blood mortals, Morrith guessed. Being an alchemist, she had spent her fair share of time extracting and synthesizing new potions from the exotic creatures and fauna of Outland. Said creatures and fauna being only marginally more friendly than the corrupted inhabitants of the broken world.
If the savage fel orcs decided to be unruly, Morrith wondered if even single one of the brutes would be able to make it to the outskirts of their camp alive.
Placing her hands around the smooth metal of her staff, she peered down at the narrow, winding road loading up to their camp intently. Ever since Lord Illidan conquered Outland, most of the fel orc tribes and warbands were now their allies. Technically speaking. But even though they served the same lord, there was little love lost between their races, and not without reason. The fel orcs were savages; brutal orcs turned into fel-fueled abominations through the use of demon blood and dark sorcery, amplifying their already massive strength and psychotic bloodlust both to supernatural levels. To call them mentally unstable would be an understatement, and it was with good reason that any blood elf or naga force made sure to keep a safe distance between themselves and any fel orc detachment that might be accompanying them. And the thought of a whole bunch of them coming towards their small camp; unannounced; filled Morrith with a sense of foreboding.
For a moment, there reigned complete silence over the camp; broken only by the background rumble of the land itself and the soft, billowing clouds of fine, crystalline dust that drifted amidst the feet of the gathered blood elves.
Then; breaking the silence; she heard the perfect, synchronous draw of more than a dozen bowstrings as the rangers spotted them first. Two seconds later, Morrith too saw the brutish force marching through the narrow ravine towards them.
It was a ragtag throng of almost two dozen fel orcs walking in a loose formation towards the camp. Flayed, tattered banners made of the skin of draenei, demons, orcs and other beasts rippled in the dry, mana infused wind above them; the greatest of them being a black banner inscribed with the burning green runes of the illidari that glowed with haunting green witchlight. The hunchbacked brutes had no semblance of uniform. Some of them were clad in full sets of beaten and spiked black scrap plate armor that covered every inch of their bodies. Others wore light, gladiatorial style leather armor with sectional armor pieces, while some were almost completely naked; their obscenely muscled bodies a riot of scar tissue, crude tribal tattoos as well as metallic fangs, rivets and spikes that had been plunged into their flesh like barbaric decorations. Some wielded great two handed axes and clubs, while others carried various combinations of swords, daggers, shields, axes, hammers, flails and even some exotic ‘weapons’ that looked more like crude but creative torture implements. They exuded an aura of violence and barely contained rage; knuckles white as bone as they gripped their weapons with killing strength!
One of them was a grotesque looking fel orc. Despite his rounded back, the red skinned monster stood almost seven feet tall. He was wearing a mish-mash of jagged, black and gray armor, some of it which seemed to be even welded directly into his skin. A grilled, spiked mask covered the lower side of his face, hiding most of the lower half of his face and giving the impression of his face being twisted in a permanent bestial snarl. A crude war banner was attached to the back of his armor, rising above his head to carry carrying the symbols of some orcish clan that Morrith didn’t recognize. And in his large, black armored fist he carried a vicious, grey double-headed battleaxe. But despite the imposing figure of the fel orc, his companion was even more remarkable. It was a demon in the shape of an elf. A Night Elf to be exact, standing at a towering 8ft in height with glowing green tattoos etched across its mostly bare skin, and two long, curling horns protruding from its forehead. In many ways, the creature bore a striking resemblance to Lord Illidan himself, but this elf was a female, and in many ways looked far more corrupt. Her skin was discolored dark purple and black hue as opposed to the normal violet or light blue of the Night Elves, with scaly, hard surfaces forming in certain areas upon her skin. Lines of small black occult tattoos covered he, with a diabolical circle written into the flesh of her forehead. Her ash colored hair ran like a loose ragged mane behind her, and instead of a headband there was a black silk shawl that hung in front her eyes from a beautiful silver circlet. The single piece of silver jewelry a stark contrast to the wicked, demon steel pauldrons, vambraces and runed loincloth she otherwise wore.
“Look at that thing. You would almost think she was related to the betrayer himself. Too tall to be a Sin’Dorei don’t you suppose?” Theravor commented with an amused chuckle.
“You cannot infer such things from size alone when it comes to fel, Theravor. You have seen the sizes of some of the corrupted freaks we have fought.” Magister Alisah mused, peering coyly at the male magister before looking down.
“Besides, look at the ears. She is definitely a Keldorei… or was anyway.”
“So the rumors are true… “ Morrith muttered, her shimmering green eyes narrowing as she studied the half-demon marching ahead of the brutish mob.
“Rumors?” Alisah asked, looking towards Morrith with a quizzical tilt to her head.
“Illidan’s new army, made in the betrayer’s own image. Take note of the tattoos. That thing is a demon hunter.” Morrith explained, nodding towards the demonic night elf marching at the head of the pack.
“My my. Tempest Keep has left us all out alone without any reinforcements, yet our friendly overlord goes out of his way to send one of his brand new warriors all the way from Shadowmoon – just for us! I should write him a letter of thanks.” Theravor nodded with a snide look on his face.
“Maybe you should be worried, Nethermancer. If that thing is a hunter of demons, then she might not approve of your work.” Alisah smirked, peering towards the back of Morrith’s head.
One of Alethoren’s rangers atop the ridgeline shouted and made a gesture towards the marching mob. The fel orcs ceased their march as the leading orc raised a clenched mailed fist, before he and the demon hunter continued alone towards the camp, leaving the rest of the orcs behind.
“How either of you two somehow had the brains to become magisters astounds me… “ Morrith sighed before continuing.
“Make no mistake, the temple of Karabor is still as corrupted and infested with demons as the day we conquered it. And if she is from the Black Temple, then she been around more demons than our kin.”
Morrith glanced back over her shoulder at them, though paused as she was about to turn back to the pass, adding almost as an afterthought: “Oh, and if she has come all the way from Shadowmoon with nothing but fel orcs for company, I would advice that you watch your tongues. She will likely not be as forgiving as I am.”
However, in that moment, something else drew her attention. Morrith’s eyes shifted towards Vexi standing behind them, the demoness fel green eyes narrowing towards the approaching duo. The succubus was quieter than usual, and instead of the normal salacious grin there was a rare look of contemplation on the twisted but perfect features of her face.
That was odd, Morrith thought, before following her demon’s gaze back towards the incoming arrivals.
Before them, the fel orc and demon hunter continued to walk towards the mouth of the camp, not breaking their stride as the dozens of arrows tracked their every movement. The promise of imminent death hung in the air. If Ranger Captain Alethoren simply raised his hand and gave the word, dozens of accurate arrows would pierce the two illidari from every direction within the next three seconds; followed by a hellish barrage of arcane might from Morrith and her magisters. Any reasonable person might consider that overkill, but Outland had taught them to be cautious.
On the other hand, if the fel orc commander and demon hunter approaching them were worried, then they at least gave no outward indication of being so.
One of the rangers shouted out again. The one eyed fel orc gave the ranger above him an annoyed look, before he raised his axe, and chopped it into the ground in one quick motion; letting the adamantine blade cut deep into the gray and purple netherstorm soil where it remained upright.
Even if the fel orc was now unarmed, Morrith was more than aware how even an unarmed fel orc was the match of a black bear back on Azeroth in terms of strength; and did not let her focus dwindle in the slightest. Within her mind, she was going through the intricate incantations of dozens of spells of frost and arcane, feeling a surge of power well up inside of her like a crackling storm, ready to be unleashed on a moment’s notice! The jovial smiles had finally disappeared from Theravor and Alissah’s faces. Like Alethoren, their faces were now set in a determined expression, and they were already in the process of using some quick arcane cantrips to dig a ritual channeling circle around Morrith; the soil and rock being lifted up by the telekinetic spells until they now stood in an intricately designed magical circle designed to focus and amplify their spells.
“That is far enough!” Alethoren called out in a clear yet commanding voice when the figures were only twenty feet away from them camp’s entrance.
“You approach a camp held by the Sunfury; loyal soldiers of prince Kael’thas of House Sunstrider. State your names and your purpose, and know that any attempts at deception will be met with death!”
There was a pause as the demonic night elf and fel orc turned towards one another. The demon hunter nodded, and the fel orc made a quick salute by hammering his mailed fist against his chestplate, before taking a step forward towards the blood elves.
“My name is Blood Guard Mohrdar Blackrage! It is by the will of the Lord of Outland that I have traveled here, and with me I have an appointed agent of the betrayer himself. She demands to speak to the leader of this encampment, and to bring the decree of the betrayer to this forsaken backwater!”
The fel Orc, Mohrdar, bellowed in a deep, bloodcurdling voice, pounding his plated chest in as he pointed an armored finger towards where Alethoren and his bloodwardens stood.
The Ranger Captain’s expression did not shift in the slightest. With a slow motion, he turned his attention towards Morrith and her magisters. Morrith nodded, making an intricate gesture with her hands as she invoked both a spell of detection and truesight. Turning her magically enhanced perception towards the fel orc and demon hunter, Morrith sensed no illusion. On the other hand, she could see the stench of demonic energies linger around the fel orc; the result of the demon blood coursing through the orc’s vein. But whatever corruption the orc carried paled in comparison to the foul presence radiating forth from the demon huntress, a malevolent miasma that seemed barely contained.
Morrith hesitated for a moment, before she peered towards the waiting Ranger Captain and gave a nod. Alethoren nodded and turned towards the two illidari.
“The two of you may enter. But the rest of your force will remain outside for the time being.” Alethoren said as he made a gesture for them to come closer. The fel orc’s mangled mouth turned into a bloody grin of twisted teeth as he stepped forward, walking side by side with the demon hunter.
“Specialist Verrathian, Nethermancer Morrith. You will accompany me. Magister Theravor and Magister Alissah, you will remain outside in case the orcs try anything.” Alethoren said as he walked up towards them.
There was a brief look of excitement on their faces, before the two magisters threw a look of concern towards Morrith and Ranger Captain. Morrith met them with a cold gaze.
“This is your chance to prove yourselves. Preferably by not accidentally incinerating our guests without proper reason.” Morrith said said with a cold tone, casting an expectant gaze towards them while the demon Vexi shifted to position herself behind Morrith.
Alisah and Theravor smirked, looking as though they were about to say something clever now as they didn’t have a demon watching their backs. But those words quickly died on their lips, to go forever unsaid the moment they noticed the stern, judging gaze of the Ranger Captain bearing down on them. Wisely deciding to not try their luck around the Ranger Captain, the two magisters saluted, placing their fists over their hearts, calling out “glory to house Sunstrider” in unison.
Morrith felt a sense of gratitude towards the Ranger Captain. He had a way with people that she could not match – at least not without the use of magic.
Turning, Morrith made to join with the rest of the blood elves as they moved to meet the orc and demon hunter; but not without pausing to peer towards the demoness stalking just behind her.
“You are unusually quiet today, Vexi. Not fond of our guests?” Morrith inquired, making a subtle nod with her head towards the corrupted night elf in particular.
“She’s just not my type.” Vexi said with a slight frown and a poor attempt at sounding nonchalant, the succubus looking the other way. This only intrigued Morrith more.
“A person that isn’t your type for a change? That is a first. It seems history is being written this day.” Morrith muttered with a cold smile. The demon looked back towards her, crimson lips now formed into a grin of perfect teeth and fangs.
“The orc looks tasty, but I can tell you the half elf is no fun at all, mistress.”
“Interesting.” Morrith mused, her gaze returning towards the orc and the night elf – lingering on the latter.
Whatever sensation of discomfort her mortal body felt towards the corrupted night elf was warring with the curiosity welling up inside of her. The night elf’s similarity to Lord Illidan; the fact she had never met anyone who could invoke such a reaction from her succubus, and the fact the fact that she neither knew nor had heard of such a remarkable specimen before all served to pique Morrith’s scholarly interest. She had spoken with many of the magi and warlocks that worked in the black temple. Although she did not know the specifics, she knew of the dark experiments and rituals constantly being carried out in Shadowmoon Valley, fueled by a combination of vile alchemy, heinous science and diabolical magic. Was this abomination some new product drawn from the twisted and brilliant minds of the mortal and demonic sorcerers and scientists in service to the lord of Outland?
Morrith joined the ranks of armored bloodwardens and spell breakers standing by Alethoren’s side when the illidari walked into the camp.
The fel orc radiated an aura of violence, but she had seen enough of them up close to be used to it. What struck Morrith more was the sheer presence of the demon hunter, not to mention her height. Standing at over 8ft in height, she towered over the gathered blood elves. Morrith could see the blaze of the demon huntress’ eyes burning behind the black veil, shifting about as the demon hunter scanned the welcoming reception.
Only to stop at Morrith.
That was not a good sign, Morrith thought in the back of her mind, feeling a sudden surge of unease as the cursed gaze of the demon huntress locked onto her with predatory intensity! At the corner of her vision she noticed Alethoren peer towards her, the Ranger Captain raising an eyebrow in a quizzical expression as she had just stolen their guest’s attention. Morrith wanted to say something, but part of her mind told her not to; instead forcing her to meet the unnatural gaze of the demon hunter. The sense of unease did not wane, and she got the distinct feeling that a part of her very being shifted inside of her, as though her very soul was being laid bare to the corrupted elf’s gaze.
“You are versed in fel magic.” The demon huntress stated as much as asked, her voice warped and distorted but still very much female. There was an unnatural resonance to it, as though dozens of lesser voices were speaking and repeating her words from everywhere and nowhere at the same time in perfect unison.
“Yes, though it is a relatively new area for me.” Morrith answered, with ‘relative’ being very much the case. She had spent years plying the eldritch lore surrounding the fel, but that was all relatively little when compared to the more than two centuries she had spent practicing the arcane. Although she could not deny that such extensive background in magic did help, even when moving into a new field.
“Then you will be useful to me.” The demon hunter concluded, her black lips forming into a fanged smile between the occult tattoos covering her face.
Morrith raised an eyebrow, but was relieved when Ranger Captain Alethoren drew the demon hunter’s attention as he stepped forward.
“I believe this discussion is best handled elsewhere. If you would be so kind as to come with me to my command tent. I will hear whatever message you bring there.” Alethoren gestured with a mailed hand, as the bloodwardens and spellbreakers formed up around Mohrdar and the demon hunter.
The walk to the command tent lasted less than a minute, but even so; there was an uncomfortable silence over the group as they moved. The air was filled with the threat of imminent violence that could break out at any moment. The bloodwardens all kept their swords partially unsheathed, ready for a quick draw if needed. One of the spell breakers walked next to Alethoren, while the other positioned himself between Morrith and the demon hunter. Vexi’s gleeful and mischievous smile had returned as she walked besides Morrith, although Morrith chalked the succubus’ good mood to how busy the demon seemed to be studying Alethoren’s men rather than watching their guest.
Morrith took the opportunity to take the measure of the two newcomers. Blood Guard Mohrdar stomped forward with a great swagger, challenging every gaze that came his way as though he had all the world to prove. His torn lips were forced into a jeering, savage grin, although Morrith could notice a slight, repeating twitch at the side of his face, as though the orc was seething with a burning rage that came bubbling up from the surface
By contrast, Morrith saw no such posing from the demon huntress. The tall, demonic keldorei strode with a casual grace among the group of blood elves. Her corrupted form was both muscular and shapely; amazonian in appearance; and Morrith could see a ghastly, intermittent pulse within the glowing green tattoos that covered the half-demon’s body. There was something disturbing about her on a primordial level, especially this close. An ominous, supernatural aura; it was the same soul-clenching dread a mortal felt when near a demon, except here it was both muffled and multiplied at the same time. Although Morrith reckoned the half-demon’s demonic claws were weapons in their own right, she saw no obvious crafted weapons on the demon hunter’s person. She found her eyes drifting towards a set of green gems socketed into the demonsteel gauntlets that the half demon wore. She recognized the unholy scripture and engravings around them, as it appeared some sort of translocation enchantment had been forged into the gloves.
Perhaps the demon hunter wasn’t so unarmed after all.
As they stepped inside inside of the tent, a sudden sound of tearing caused the front row of blood elves to spin around and almost draw their blades – before they saw the source of the sound. One of the flaps of the tent had caught on the spikes of the fel orc’s right shoulderpad and been torn right off. Mohrdar glanced over to the frayed piece of cloth now hanging from his pauldron, before casually shrugging and throwing the cloth aside; leaving half the entrance of the tent now open for anyone to look inside. More than a dozen green eyes glared at the fel orc, before a gesture from Alethoren made the group continue into the tent where they gathered around the planning table. Ranger Captain Alethoren and Nethermancer Morrith positioned themselves on one side of the table, and the hulking fel orc Mohrdar and the demonic night elf on the other side. The spellbreakers positioned themselves on either side of the Captain and Morrith, while the bloodwardens stood at the walls of the tent; most with a clear view of the backs of their new guests. Verrathian took up a position furthest away from the newcomers, close to the curtains that lead to the rear section of the tent.
“I wish to start by apologizing for the rude welcome. The fact you were able to find us out here means that you probably know who were are.” Alethoren began, his stern expression having not changed since the beginning.
“I want to know what it is that have brought you out here. We have received no information about your arrival in advance, neither from Tempest Keep nor the Black Temple. Naturally, that makes me very curious. We are positioned right next to a legion encampment. I do not need to tell either of you how dangerous it is to arrive unannounced.”
Although they were allies, there was little warmth between the two sides gathered in the command tent. It was one of the consequences of the widely disparate forces that Lord Illidan had gathered under his banner. Despite their differences, the naga, broken and blood elves had found a modicum of respect for oneanother. But the same could not be said for the bloodthirsty fel orcs or demons bound in service to Illidan. Mostly an iron-fisted rule kept the former in check, while spells of binding and enslavement applied to the latter.
“Mind your tone. You speak to an envoy of the Black Temple, blood elf.” Mohrdar growled, lips quivering in a barely suppressed rage as he stomped forward with a rattle of armor.
“We are here because of a matter of loyalty! The fealty of you and your prince are in question. There is talk in the black temple about how serious you take your work.”
“Loyalty?” Alethoren’s dispassionate stare was in stark contrast to the rage fueled face of the orc.
“I do not believe our loyalty can be questioned, let alone our work. Or at least no more than that of your kind who lost Hellfire Citadel. Which had been charged to you by Lord Illidan himself.”
Morrith’s eyes shot to Alethoren, then back towards the illidari. It was already too late. She could see the brief pause of shock pass over Mohrdar’s scarred face, before his nostrils flared and he let out a bellow of unbridled rage!
“DO YOU DARE TO INSULT ME, WHELP!? OUR LOYALTY TO THE BETRAYER IS BOUND IN BLOOD! AND BLOOD IS WHAT YOU WILL,-“
Mohrdar raged, raising a massive armored fist up to slam the table between them into splinters – or so he would have if the demon hunter had not intervened. In a display of speed that dazzled the mortal eye, the corrupted elf lashed out with a clawed hand to snatch Mohrdar’s wrist mid air with enough strength to halt even the raging fel orc! Mohrdar blinked, the berserker rage briefly passing as he looked towards his hand, then towards the demon hunter glaring down at him. He then promptly pulled his hand back, visibly shrinking as he bowed to the other illidari.
“My apologies, Drinker of Sin! I will not let the rage consume me again!” He exclaimed in a surprising formal tone to the demonic elf.
“Your rage is the reason I brought you, Mohrdar.” The demon hunter stated, turning to look down towards Alethoren.
“I would prefer to speak with someone with a bit more self control. I take it you are the leader of this envoy, ‘Drinker of Sin’?” Alethoren said with a slight quizzical expression at the last part, meeting the demon huntress’s burning gaze without flinching. The night elf seemed to regard him for a moment, before flashing a smile of fanged teeth between black lips.
“Drinker of Sin is my title, yes. And I will warn you; Ranger Captain Alethoren; my words will be no more pleasant than his.”
“I would not expect you to bring such a band of beasts with you across Outland merely to discuss pleasantries. Dispense with the theatrics and tell me why you have come.” Alethoren took a step forward, gesturing towards the rest of the gathered blood elves around them.
“Every soldier in this room is a veteran and has sworn their oaths to both Prince Kael’Thas and Lord Illidan alike. There is no need to coddle us.”
“Very well, Ranger Captain.” The demon hunter intoned, before her burning gaze shifted to suddenly look in another direction.
“First, send your demon away. I will not have any immortals in this room for what I am about to discuss.”
Morrith turned to peer towards Vexi, only to realize the demon was no longer standing by her. Instead, she followed the demon hunter’s gaze as it was fixed on the curtains next to Verrathian. He looked quizzically back at them.
It took only a moment for Morrith to put two and two together.
“Step forward… “ Morrith said, letting out a sigh as she gestured towards the curtains, before they parted as Vexi stepped out into view. The sight of her made Verrathian spit out a curse in Thalassian as he quickly took a few steps back. The succubus grinned at the elves around her, and Morrith made a simple gesture towards the exit of the tent.
“Leave us, Vexi. I will summon you when I need you.”
“Your wish is my command, mistress. Don’t keep me waiting.” The succubus winked, letting her eyes trail over the gathered elves once more time before she sauntered towards the exit; making a show of swaying her wide hips before her fluttering wings and flickering tail were the last things to vanish out of sight. The sense of relief in the tent was palpable as the demon left, but none of the blood elves could truly relax, not with the strangers still in their midst.
Demon hunter’s veiled gaze seemed to follow Vexi, even after the succubus had long since disappeared from sight; before returning to set on Alethoren.
“Tell me of your war against the Legion in Netherstorm, Ranger Captain. What is the current situation?”
“If you want a full report, you should have gone to Tempest Keep. But, I will share what I know.” There was a tone of suspicion to Alethoren’s voice as he peered up at the half-demon, before extending a hand to gesture towards the maps before them.
“As you are likely aware, the Legion makes constant forays into Outland, and Netherstorm is no exception to this rule. They have tried to set up numerous outposts all across the region, but we of the Sunfury have contained and destroyed each one of them as per the containment policy. You are witnessing our work as we speak.” Alethoren’s focus rose from the maps on the table, gesturing towards the soldiers around him.
“We are an observation force tasked with keeping surveillance over this particular invasion point, and feed the information back to Tempest Keep so that they can send an appropriate force to deal with this local incursion. Cleaning up the legion’s probes into Outland has become a routine operation at this point. Dealing with the intrusions of the Legion is not pretty work, but overall we hold an effective control in Netherstorm.”
“Do you believe so?” The demon huntress asked, her black smile turning into a fanged grin yet again as she placed her clawed fingers on the table between them to lean forward.
“I believe what I am told and see for myself.” Alethoren replied, unphased by the demonic elf.
“And judging by your tone, you have a point that you are eager to make.”
There was a slight nod of the demon hunter’s horned head, and her vicious smile grew a little wider. Raising a hand, she gestured across the beautifully drawn map of Netherstorm between them.
“I may have no eyes, but I see much more than you might think. The report you gave me matches the ones we have received from Tempest Keep. Both promising and appeasing… that is, if they had only coincided with the reality that our agents report.” The Drinker of Sin said, tapping her clawed finger on the map.
“According to our own reports, the Legion presence in the region is at an all time high. They have set up numerous invasion points and forge camps all over Netherstorm, most of them completely unopposed despite the great army that your prince has stationed in the region.”
The demon hunter paused to watch Alethoren’s reaction. Morrith felt her sense of unease rise again. They were in control of Netherstorm! What kind of reports was it that this demon hunter was referring to? And to speak nothing of the implications in her words. Morrith gazed towards Alethoren, the Ranger Captain still as a statue as he gazed sharply up at the towering half demon.
“So this is an accusation of treason, is it?”
“You tell me, Ranger Captain. Am I lying, do you think?” She asked with her warped and distorted voice.
“I am not going to make any brash claims or accusations.” Alethoren replied.
“Like I said before, I know only what I see and what I am told in my reports.”
“And so tell me then, what do you see out there?” The Drinker of Sin asked, the demon hunter gesturing with a corrupted hand towards the side of the tent in the direction of the nearby Legion invasion point.
Alethoren paused, taking a moment to peer in the direction motioned by the Demon Hunter, as if he could somehow see the demonic encampment through the cloth walls of the command tent.
“I see a foul den of demons, slowly building itself up in both numbers and scale.”
“And don’t you find that unsettling?”
“Only a madman or a true fool would not be unsettled by watching the Legion’s presence grow at his very doorstep. But I also know that it is a matter of time before our reinforcements will arrive from Tempest Keep and we will purge their hold for good.” Alethoren explained, turning back to meet the unholy gaze of the half-demon.
“Perhaps your reinforcements will arrive, or perhaps they will not. Either way, it does not change the fact that your time has run out.” Whether the demon hunter intended it or not, it sounded as though there was an almost sadistic glee in her distorted, echoing voice. Part of Morrith began to wonder if this creature was even on their side to begin with.
Alethoren glared back at her, hands folded behind his regal cloak. There was a look of impatience on his features.
“It appears I am not clever enough to guess. Explain it to me in basic terms: why exactly are we out of time?”
The demon hunter gazed towards the smaller regional map of their current area, the veiled glow of her eyes centering in on the dark illustration of the Legion Invasion Point: Kill, in its black, star-like shape. The beauty and talent of the Thalassian artist that had drawn the map could do little to hide the camp’s sheer ugliness even in the wasted landscape of Netherstorm.
“They are building a greater portal in this invasion point. My agents estimate that it will be done in three to two days.” The demon hunter began, leaning forward on the table.
“You sin’dorei are veterans of Lord Illidan’s campaign. You know what that means. Once finished, the Legion will be able to open an entirely new front in the region with thousands of thousands of demons. I am not here to question the skill of the Sunfury as oldiers, but even if your skills had matched that of the ancients of old you would still never be able to match the legion’s attrition warfare.”
Alethoren went silent for a moment. His expression was as stoic as ever, but Morrith could sense the hidden confusion and conflict raging inside of the Ranger Captain. And she hardly felt any better herself. A greater invasion portal? That just raised the stakes of their mission to a whole different level! There was one thing to deal with a few hundred demons. It was an entirely different matter to deal with an army of thousands that could draw on nigh endless reinforcements!
Her dark reveries were interrupted as Alethoren turned to look at her with a grim expression.
“You were in charge of scrying on their camp, Nethermancer Morrith. But you have told me nothing about a greater portal being constructed.”
“I told you that my scrying attempts have been mostly blocked for the last four days. The place is locked down with enough wards of secrecy and spells of concealment that they could hide the dark portal itself in there and I wouldn’t notice before they began the rites of activation!”
Alethoren nodded at her reply. She could sense anger coming the Ranger Captain, but not directed at her. He raised his mailed hand to his chin as a look of quiet contemplation crossed his face. Morrith knew the consequences all too well of what was going on, and it would affect far more than simply the lives of the soldiers stationed in their camp. She continued:
“If the illidari’s claims are true, then our situation has gone from tenuous to downright grave. If the legion is allowed to summon an army from this invasion point, they could then threaten our hold over this local region, and even compromise the security of Manaforge Duro. You know how important the forge is to our efforts. If anything happens to it because of our negligence, the prince will have our heads!”
“Then maybe the prince should start with the heads of his command staff back in Tempest Keep… “ Alethoren muttered in a rare expression of frustration.
It was at that moment that Verrathian stepped forward.
“It seems they have us outmaneuvered. If our guest speaks the truth, then there is nothing we can do.” Verrathian spoke, walking towards the table and positioning himself next to Alethoren, eying the demon hunter. The sudden glare that the demonic night elf shot him was enough to make Verrathian visibly recoil, and Morrith could see one of the spellbreakers take a couple of steps closer to the black haired elf.
“Not if we destroy the camp before they finish the construction of their portal.” The demon huntress grinned, causing Verrathian’s face to go a number of shades more white within a remarkably short amount of time!
“ … what?” There was a look of disbelief on Verrathian’s face, before he was eventually able to gather some of his wits.
“That is, well… uhm… just, if you do not mind me asking; how exactly do you intend to go about that?”
“We will attack the camp and destroy the portal ourselves.” The demon hunter said again, grinning as though she was taking some sort of satisfaction out of the situation.
What was wrong with that demon hunter, Morrith thought! She was beginning to wonder if the half-demon was genuinely blind. Could she not see the forces around her? Morrith had been about to raise a protest, but Verrathian beat her to it.
“Are you suggesting we commit some form of ritual suicide? If you claim you know so much, clearly you have seen the forces around you!” Verrathian exclaimed with an incredulous tone.
“Allow me to do the talking, Verrathian.” Alethoren raised a hand to silence the specialist, before looking at the demon hunter.
“An attack is out of the question, illidari. We have barely thirty soldiers in this camp. We are observation force, not an assault force. We can take out targets of opportunity, but we can not go toe to toe with a heavily defended enemy fortress. Morrith… “ Alethoren turned towards Morrith, gesturing towards her.
“Please tell our guest about the disposition of the foe we face.”
“Very well, Ranger Captain.” Morrith nodded, turning towards the illidari. She felt herself flinching slightly as the demon huntress’s veiled gaze locked onto her again, and it was just as uncomfortable as the first time. How Alethoren managed to remain so unphased by it she could only guess at. Breaking the eye contact, she instead pointed towards the map.
“During my last successful scrying attempt, I was able to discern that there were close to two hundred demons in the camp. A large portion of them are gan’arg type menial demons, but they have a large contingent of felguards and even a couple of doom guard type demons as well. That was four days ago. Since then, their numbers have likely grown, and we can expect three to four hundred demons by now. I also detected the presence of a cabal of orc warlocks, likely previously affiliated with the shadow council. The demons have also surrounded their perimeter with packs of fel hunter type demons, which render most forms of both magical and mundane infiltration almost impossible. I have been unable to discover the identity of the camp’s leader, but I suspect they are a powerful sorcerer of some kind as the magic that surrounds the camp far exceeds what most short-lived orcs could ever create in my experience.”
Morrith finished, although her small presentation did little to alleviate the worry she felt. If anything, it only made her more conscious about how badly outfitted their current force was for a fight against the Legion.
But any hope she might have had that the demon hunter might see reason was dashed by the next words that came out from the half-demon’s black lips.
“Thank you, but I will see that camp burned regardless of what’s in it.” The night elf’s warped voice rang out across the room, and Morrith could see the Ranger Captain’s eyes narrow.
“Then you will do so alone, illidari.” Alethoren’s voice was clear as he met the demon hunter’s gaze, his glove casually resting on the ornate pommel of his sheathed phoenix blade as he spoke.
“I will not feed the blood and souls of my soldiers to the Legion war machine for nothing. I would consider that an active form of sabotage for the war effort had your proposal come from the mouth of any of my advisors. However, I have no authority to command you or your minions, and so you are free to do as you wish. We can give you supplies, shelter and help you reach Tempest Keep, but you will not get to sacrifice my soldiers in such a foolhardy plan.”
There was a finality in the Ranger Captain’s words. In an instant, the tension of violence had returned to the room. Morrith could see the brutish fel orc Mohrdar clench his large hands, each with the power to snap the neck of a war horse. Despite the orc’s great physical strength, Morrith felt confident she could neutralize him with a single spell, yet she held no such confidence towards the demon huntress currently regarding them. This demon hunter may have held none of Lord Illidan’s charisma despite their similarities, but if she had even a shred of her master’s power then the fight could be a lot more even than what the numbers in the tent could otherwise suggest. The anti magical properties of the half-demon’s tattoos would make it difficult for Morrith to land a spell on her, and so it might be best if she dealt with the fel orc and left Alethoren and his men to deal with the demon hunter.
“Your concern for your men is admirable, Ranger Captain.” The demon hunter started, tapping her claws against the table again.
“Had the situation been different, I would have been inclined to let you go about your way. But because this is also a matter of your loyalty, I cannot do that… ”
The demon huntress rose to her full height, her horns almost touching parts of the roof above her. A baleful, cursed light pulsed from her tattoos, and Morrith could see a murderous twitch in one of the night elf’s clawed hands. The unnatural aura the demon hunter’s corrupt form exuded had only become amplified, and Morrith could feel a sickening wave hit her as though she was suddenly in the presence of dozens of invisible malevolent spirits caressing against the periphery of her spiritual being.
Already, Morrith was mentally reciting and preparing the intricate incantations of dozens of wards and protective spell; her hand shifting to gently touch at the purple stone set in her phoenix shaped medallion.
“To destroy this camp, you will have the aid of me and Mohrdar’s fel orcs. The demon blood coursing through their veins gave their kind the power to defeat even the demigod Cenarius, and killing demons is my own specialty. With us at your side, your forces will be more than enough to demolish the legion camp.”
A murderous grin appeared on the demon hunter’s blackened lips. It convinced Morrith that the demon hunter was; beyond any shadow of doubt; well and truly insane. And her next words would only go on to support that conclusion as the demon hunter’s clawed finger stabbed down into the illustration of the legion invasion point on the map.
“It is by the will of the lord of outland that this Legion stronghold is destroyed within the next twenty four hours. If you refuse to aid me, then I will slay every single blood elf in this camp as the traitors you are, even if costs me every single fel orc under my command to do so!”
Next Chapter: Betrayal
