The Lore of Poldaran: Chapter 6: The LichbornFollow

Poldaran sat within a prison cell within the Violet Citadel, awaiting the pending trial. She normally would have been held within the Violet Hold, but some kind of trouble was happening within its walls, and the Kirin Tor's upper council felt it was not safe to have her down there.

She had requested the presence of her lawyer, a woman by the name of Tinaomi who had represented the Wintermoon family for almost two decades. But it would be at least another day before the woman would arrive. Which barely gave her time to be present for the opening of the trial.

Poldaran had not been told the exact details of the charges. High treason and Necromancy were just two of the charges being brought against her, but they were bad enough. She wasn't sure what they meant by High Treason, but the Necromancy charges sounded pretty straightforward.

She sat in meditation for a while until she heard someone talking at the door to the hallway where her cell was located. "Captain, I'm sorry, but no one sees the prisoner. The order comes from the Kirin Tor."

"She's an old friend of mine. I just wanted to bring her some food."

"They feed the prisoners." The guard didn't sound convinced.

"You've seen what we feed them. Come on, we can't let a lady try to subsist on that crap. Besides, you know of her. She's a hero. We might all be alive because of her. Will you really deny her a little good food?"

"Okay, captain. But if I get in trouble, I'll come looking for you."

The other man laughed. "We'll just tell them I hit you." The door swung open and Poldaran saw a man wearing black mail armor and a violet tabard enter the hallway. His hair was short and black, definitely different from the time she had met him so many years ago. He approached the shield that locked her into her cell. "So, Poldaran, I trust you won't try to escape if I open this shield?"

She laughed. "Of course not, Derrick. You should know by now that if I wanted to escape that this cell wouldn't hold me."

"Fair enough," he said with a smile. He entered the cell, set some items on the small table where she was seated and sat down across from her. "So, how has the elf been?" he asked.

"Nihlus is doing well. He's currently busy with a mission to go clear the Black Dragonshrine of a cultist infestation. What of the dwarf?"

Derrick Long looked stricken. "Steelbeard fell recently during an incursion by the Blue Flight into the Violet Hold."

Poldaran sighed. "These wars are necessary, but the cost seems too high."

"Truly." He changed the subject. "Eat up," he said, motioning to the food on the table. "It's simple fare, but certainly better than what they normally feed prisoners."

Poldaran looked at the food. He had brought her soup served in a large piece of bread a couple pieces of cheese and three juicy snowplums. "It's just perfect," she said gratefully. They sat in silence as she ate for a few minutes. "I haven't been back to Dalaran in a while, Derrick. What's going on here? Why did the Kirin Tor suddenly decide to arrest me?"

"The people are afraid, Pol." The look on his face alarmed her. "So very afraid. They demand proof that the Kirin Tor is capable of protecting them from the immense threats all around us. They've heard rumors of the fighting going on outside. The attack on Wintergarde brought the worry to a fever pitch. There was a protest that almost sparked a riot. Rhonin himself had to remind the people that the mages of the Kirin Tor would not allow things to turn to chaos with a show of force. The crowds dispersed, but it opened the eyes of the Six to a growing domestic problem. The fear had to be controlled."

"That's why I've been arrested, isn't it?" she asked.

"I overheard a member of the Kirin Tor's lower council state just that. She seemed disgusted that they would play politics with your life. And that's what this is. They mean to find you guilty and have you executed."

"Why me?"

"I spoke with that woman later, and she believes that it's because of who you are. You're the daughter of Kel'thuzad. Since the Kirin Tor failed to deal with him, they feel that convicting you will yield a massive symbolic victory in the eyes of the people. It just might work, too. Less than a third of the general population knows much about you. They know who your father is, and they've been hearing rumors that you recently died and returned, but the Kirin Tor is hiding information about what you've been doing beyond that." He looked at her for a moment. "How did you manage to come back, anyway?"

She smiled. "While gathering what I needed to assault Kel'thuzad, I visited Kael'thas. In addition to the phoenix feathers I needed, he gave me a good luck charm." She took a bite of one of the snowplums, then continued. "It was a simple necklace. A silver chain with a gem on it. But the gem was anything but ordinary. It was the dried tear of a phoenix, crystallized into a small gem."

He looked surprised at this. "You used a phoenix tear to heal yourself and faked your death?"

She laughed. "Not exactly. A couple centuries ago, there was a High Elven scholar who spent nearly fifty years studying the properties of crystallized phoenix tears. Conventional wisdom in Silvermoon stated that dried phoenix tears were worthless. Dozens of scholars had tried extracting magic from them and none had ever succeeded. But this man was convinced there had to be a way."

"I take it he found something?"

"Indeed. He was forty five years into his studies when one day he stumbled upon a brilliant plan." She took another bite of the plum. "He was trying again to use heat to melt them when he accidentally put a different type of crystal into extremely hot forge fire he'd constructed. The crystal melted and he was elated, believing he had succeeded. Unfortunately, he soon realized that it wasn't the right kind of crystal and went to write down his notes of yet another failure when he realized something."

"What was that?"

"He had never seen that type of crystal melt before. He had stoked the fires so hot that he had melted something long thought unmeltable. So he theorized that a stronger flame may be all that was needed. He began seeking out hotter flames. He traveled the world and tried placing the crystals within the hottest fires he could find. Volcanos were his nearest success, with the crystal becoming somewhat softer, but not quite melting. So he was left to search for a different method." She ate some more.

"Did he find something?"

"Yes. He found two possible leads. The first and the one he ultimately tried was Fel Fire. He read about it in a book in Silvermoon's library and set out to test it. Unfortunately, conjuring Fel magic was outlawed in Silvermoon, so he was arrested just after his test. The authorities caught wind of him purchasing materials for the spell and burst in just as he was writing down the notes of his success."

"He succeeded?"

Poldaran nodded. "In a way, he did. The Fel Fire did indeed melt the crystal, but it corrupted the magic as well. He could sense that use of the reformed tears to try to cure wounds would likely mutate the subject into something demonic."

"So it takes on the characteristics of the fire that melts it?"

"Exactly. And that's where his second lead comes in. It's said that the only fire as hot as Fel Fire was the breath of the Red Aspect. Alexstrasza's breath would melt the crystal but not alter it. At least, in theory."

"You were wearing the necklace when Alexstrasza breathed on you!" he exclaimed.

"Precisely. My body had to be burned in the flame to destroy the plague, but her breath also melted the phoenix tear, which infused with my ashes to revive me. The magic wasn't perfect, however, and I came back weak. I likely would have died if Alexstrasza hadn't intervened." She smiled. "I didn't have an immune system and my skin wasn't fully formed when I came back I was highly susceptible to infection. So Alexstrasza opened one of her recently laid eggs and placed me inside with its current occupant. Inside, the egg's magic healed me and sheltered me while my body fully regenerated."

"That's pretty amazing, Pol. So how did you show up at Stormwind? And what of the whelp you shared the egg with?"

"I used the magic I could muster to astrally project myself to Stormwind. Kel'thuzad mistook my projection for a ghost in the service of the Lich King and thought I would aid him." She set the finished first plum on the plate. "The whelp was affected by my presence and by my constant need to use the magic around me in various tasks, including gathering aid for our forces. And the residue from the tear also altered him. But he genuinely enjoyed the company. When we hatched, all the dragons around were amazed that he was born with scales of pure white. And that wasn't all that happened differently. Much like the Netherdrakes, he matured much more rapidly than he should have. He became a full sized drake within a matter of days."

"Wait, you said his scales were white? Then he's the drake you've been riding here in Northrend?"

"Yes. My shell-brother carries me where I need to go. He doesn't like to be away from me, since all he's known his whole life is my presence."

They were interrupted by a voice in the hallway. "Captain! Someone's coming!"

Derrick Long stood up quickly. "I'd better be going, Pol." She nodded. "But I have to know. How do you plan to deal with the trial?"

"I figured it might be political in nature, so I've made arrangements to deal with it politically."

** * **

"A pity," the voice said in the darkness. Poldaran sat up in bed and tapped her lamp, causing it to light. A shadowy figure sat at the table across the room. "You know, we would never treat you like this. A woman with as much power as you, Poldaran, would be treated as you deserve. It sickens me to see them turn on you. You, a woman with the power to bring three frost wyrms to life at once should not be treated as an enemy, but embraced as a friend!"

Poldaran looked at him. "That projection is excellent. You almost look whole, Arthas." She took a drink from the glass of water on her nightstand. "It is true that the Kirin Tor is making a mistake. But I still believe in their cause."

"So you'll willingly submit yourself to their false justice? If you're so willing to die, then should it not be in glorious battle? Surely you could do much good in this Nexus War that the Kirin Tor is so intent upon."

"I must abide by the rules of society. Something you never were very good at."

The Lich King laughed. "Barbarism masquerading as civility. So be it Poldaran. I will not bother you anymore for now. However, should you change your mind, come see me and I will give you an army worthy of you, capable of winning your great Nexus War. That is, of course, if the mighty Kirin Tor doesn't put you to death first." He laughed for a moment, and was gone.

Poldaran had to admit, there was some truth to his words. And that thought chilled her more than anything.

** * **

She dressed herself in robes of crimson that morning. Upon them was the emblem of a phoenix. This was not just an appearance before the court, this was to be her declaration of war.

And Poldaran didn't lose wars.

To further emphasize this, she was also wearing a sash adorned with medals from numerous organizations, awarded for her service in various conflicts across Azeroth and Outland. This morning would be a spectacle the likes of which none had seen before.

As the two guards lead her from the cell to the street path they had been ordered to follow to bring her to the court chamber of the Violet Citadel, a dozen elves surrounded them. "Move from our path or be moved," one of the guards commanded.

"I'm sorry, we cannot do that," one of the six Quel'dorei said. "The Silver Covenant would see Poldaran the Lichborn brought safely to the halls of justice. One cannot underestimate the madness of a mob of commoners."

"We of the Hand of Vengeance agree," a Sin'dorei said with a nod. "Poldaran's life is in danger with such a small escort. Moreover, having members of both factions will show our solidarity in this. No harm will come to this woman this day." One of the Quel'dorei smiled at Poldaran briefly while her escort had looked away, but returned quickly to his expression of stoicism.

"So be it," the guard said with a nod. "Form up around us." They marched through the crowds that had gathered outside. Some of the people cheered at the sight of her, but most booed, calling for the death of "the renegade mage". Poldaran suspected that some of the crowd was more than they seemed.

As they approached the giant door of the citadel, one Quel'dorei and one Sin'dorei rushed forward and opened the door. As she reached it, they drew trumpets and blew them, heralding her arrival.

The effect on the crowd assembled within the audience chamber was evident. Everyone was stunned into silence at first, but chatter burst out quickly as they saw her. One of the five hooded mages sitting on the dais called for silence. Poldaran immediately noted the absence of Krasus.

One of the mages spoke as Poldaran took he place on the stand before them. "Poldaran, known as the Lichborn, you have been brought before us on grave charges. We have received word that you have been involved in foul necromancy. You've violated the laws of Dalaran on many occasions when attempting to wage war, causing our enemies to retaliate with ever more horrifying countermeasures."

"What laws have I violated?" Poldaran asked.

"The first law you are accused of violating is the law against use of a weapon known as a Mana Bomb."

Poldaran smiled. "No such law exists."

"Clerk, read the law to the accused."

The clerk opened a large book and began to read. "It is henceforth decreed that the construction and manufacture of a 'Mana Bomb' shall be considered a crime against the State and is to be punishable by death."

"What say you now?" the hooded mage asked smugly.

Poldaran smiled again. "As I said, what I did was not a crime."

"We have witnesses to your use of such a weapon."

He had failed there. She had him. "But evidence of use is not evidence of construction," Poldaran countered. "The statute says nothing of the use of said weapon, only its construction. I obtained that one from a cache stored on the Isle of Quel'danas. I noted its presence there in my report to the Six."

The mage who had been speaking looked at his fellows. They shook their heads. "So be it. You are cleared of this charge by a technicality. Let's move on to the next." He paused. "You are charged with treason by consorting with the Scourge. What say you?"

"By order of the Six, I infiltrated Scourge leadership. I was wildly successful and struck a large blow against them. Because of this, the Scourge sees my potential and periodically attempts to contact and convert me to their cause. I cannot stop this contact, only rebuff their offers."

"Witnesses also state that you have been seen freely entering and leaving the Citadel of Naxxramas."

"I've been trying to turn one of the occupants back to our side. I feel he could be a great asset to our cause."

"A likely story. But let's move on to the next charge." He shuffled his papers. "Poldaran, you have been charged with the practice of Necromancy. How do you plead?"

"I learned that magic while on a mission for the Six. My specific orders were..."

A female voice cut her off. "Silence. Those orders are classified. We are aware of them and they do not justify your falling into the dark magic that seduced your father."

Poldaran's expression grew cold. "I knew that's what this is about, Modera. You felt that my father's banishment was not harsh enough, and you seek to redeem yourself by punishing me in his stead. This isn't a trial. It's a witch hunt. You're trying to appease your own pride. Did you tell the full assembly of the Kirin Tor about how you ordered the death of Emmy Malin even after I reported that she was working in secret to sabotage the efforts of the Blue Flight from within? Did you tell her father that her death was pointless?"

"You are out of order, Poldaran," another mage within the five said. "You will be silent."

"I don't think so, Runeweaver. Perhaps it's time the general assembly understood just what it is that the Kirin Tor's leadership is. Fools. Cowards. Tyrants."

"You will be silent," Rhonin Red-Hair said, standing and drawing back his hood. "Poldaran, I have no choice but to remove you from the ranks of the Kirin Tor this day. Further, for your use of Necromancy, you are hereby sentenced to dea-"

He was cut off as the door slammed open. "Wait!" a voice called out. Poldaran recognized the voice and turned with a smile. She turned and bowed in greeting to the new arrival.

"I was hoping you would arrive soon, your Majesty," she said in greeting. "Debate was getting heated."

King Varian Wrynn smiled at her. "I'm sorry for the delay, Archmage. My ambassadors were less swift than I had hoped."

"What is the meaning of this?" Rhonin asked. "This is an internal matter and not subject to the whims of any man, not even the King of Stormwind."

"This might be true, Rhonin of the Kirin Tor. However, it is this woman's life that I come here to speak with you about." He produced a stack of papers. "I have here no fewer than thirty formal requests from various nations and factions requesting that the life of Poldaran the Lichborn be spared."

"I must deny your request, Your Majesty. The law is quite clear on the punishment for the crimes she has committed. There can be no commutation of sentence here. I hope that this will not affect relations between our nations."

"A pity." It was all that King Wrynn said. He turned to leave.

The image of an elderly mage wearing the crest of Stormwind appeared. "Your Majesty, I'm glad I was able to reach you!"

Varian Wrynn was worried by the troubled look on the man's face. "What is it?" he demanded.

"Your Majesty, Highlord Fordragon is dead!"

"WHAT?!" Varian Wrynn replied. "What happened?"

"We're not sure. We've gotten reports of a betrayal at the Wrath Gate. Horde and Alliance forces both killed. The messenger who brought the news says that it was the Forsaken."

The king was shaking with rage, his knuckles white from the clenching of his fists. He felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned to see Poldaran standing beside him. "I'm sorry for the loss of so great a man," Poldaran said. "The Alliance, no, the entire world will feel the loss this day." He thanked her for her words. "But now is not the time to lose ourselves in rage. I will send you to Stormwind, your Majesty. Find out what you can. A few of Azeroth's greatest heroes will be along soon to help you bring vengeance down upon those who caused this." She placed her hand upon his forehead and he was gone.

Poldaran turned to the presiding mages. "I'm done with this farce. I was supposed to be there. I might have been able to save Bolvar. Instead I was here, listening to you five pretend to govern. This trial is over. I'm leaving."

"You can't leave! THE LAW WILL BE SERVED!" Archmage Modera shrieked. "Guards! SEIZE HER!"

Poldaran looked at the guards. "That would be illegal, gentlemen, so I would not follow that order."

Rhonin looked at her with raised eyebrows. "How would it be illegal to detain someone who has been brought up on charges?"

Poldaran sighed. "That's an easy question to answer." She pulled out something from beneath her robes, a pendant, and held it up for the Kirin Tor to see. Several gasped.

"That order has been defunct for years now," Rhonin replied. "It was destroyed by Magna Medivh when you were only a child. You cannot hope to use it as a shield."

Poldaran smiled. "So long as a member of the Council remains, so does our duty. We will continue our sacred purpose so long as one of us draws breath. And so long as there is a Council, interfering with our duty is a capital offense. So either you will drop the charges and allow me to continue my duties or I will have no choice but to have you all arrested on charges of Interference with the Council of Tirisfal."

Rhonin wasn't happy with the turn of events. "So be it. You are free to leave," he said through gritted teeth.

Poldaran turned and began walking out of the room. "I will not allow the spawn of Kel'thuzad to live!" she heard shouted behind her. Archmage Modera gathered her will and unleashed a white-hot fireball at Poldaran's back. Poldaran smiled when she heard the sound of a blade being unsheathed followed by a massive roar as someone broke the spell.

"Thank you, Death Knight," Poldaran said without turning.

"Just doing my duty," Raequann replied.

"I have another mission for you," she handed him a piece of paper with a list of names on it. "I need you to bring word to these people that Bolvar Fordragon is dead and that King Wrynn needs their help."

The Draenei Death Knight nodded. "Suffer well," he said as he took his leave.

Poldaran smiled. "Modera," she called as she began to leave. "If you truly wish to pursue this feud, I'll have my seconds call upon you after the current threats to the world have been neutralized. Until then, I want everyone here to know that sending anyone to attempt to detain me is sending them to their death. I will not allow you to further interfere. We have wasted too much time already."

With a word, she was gone.

I spoke with Bethany's father. He was shocked to find out that his daughter had magical aptitude. He had heard, and rightly so, that children with such talent tend to manifest it unconsciously. However, I once did some research on this, and it most often manifests when the child is in danger, or extremely irritated. If a child can stay out of danger and maintain their cool all the time, it's quite possible for the gift to stay hidden.

Apparently Bethany has always had a very calm demeanor, and managed to be away from home during the only time her life would have been in danger, which was a short time after the third war when a small group of undead attacked her home and killed her mother.

Benjamin agreed that his daughter should undergo training, and when I offered to set them up in Dalaran with a tutor and a place to live through my contacts, he agreed. He only needed to take a few days to sell his farm to someone in town that he knew was interested.

So it was that we agreed that after the storm let up, we would set out for a few days to check on Valiance Keep and the activity of the Blue Dragonflight out near Coldarra. When we returned, I'd open a portal for them to Dalaran and they'd deliver my letter to Tinaomi, who would see to the details.

While we waited for the storm to pass, I spent the next few days subjecting Bethany to various magical aptitude tests, to decide just which wizard for her to seek apprenticeship with. She scored well on all of them, though she excelled most in the simple Abjuration and Transmutation tests I gave her.

For the sake of completeness, I gave her tests in both the manipulation of the magic of the Twisting Nether and Necromancy to assess her possible talent for study with a Warlock and to determine whether she would need me to explain the dangers of the study of Necromancy to her. She did somewhat poorly on the first, but on the latter, she exceeded anything I could have expected. It was quite possible, that with proper training, she could become a more powerful Necromancer than even myself.

I decided on a Master to apprentice her to and explained to her the politics of Dalaran and its hatred for Necromancy, promising that if she completed her apprenticeship satisfactorily, I would train her in Necromancy privately afterwards if she was interested.

After that, she continued training with Nihlus and myself, both in swordplay and basic spellforms. When the blizzard ended a few days later, I set off for Valiance Keep and Nihlus went to meet with the small force of Dalaranians who had set up camp outside Coldarra with the promise that we would be back in a few days.

** * **

Poldaran smiled as she began to ascend the stairs. She had learned much this night; had seen the true depth of human spirit, the courage and determination that was the life blood of the mortal races. People refusing to give in, not because they have hope that reinforcements are coming, nor because they have no hope of escape, but because it simply was not in their nature to yield.

These people were simple farmers, armed only with crude farm implements, but they refused to yield their homes to the never ending tide of the undead.

She had been sent here originally to check on the status of the village because the higher ups in Valiance Keep were worried about the lack of ore shipments from the mine. What she found was a town fighting heroically to save itself from the dead. She offered assistance to the town's leader, Gerald Green, but he instead asked that she look into the fate of the small garrison sent to investigate the mine. He had felt, and the small group of villagers with him agreed, that getting Valiance Keep the metal it needed to forge weapons for its own defense was the higher priority.

Poldaran was taken aback by their selflessness. She did as he asked and investigated the mine, finding out that it had been overrun by the dead and most of its men had been killed by plagued grain. She brought the news to the townsfolk, and they sent a couple men with her into the mine again to retrieve the last load of ore from the mine so it could be sent down the track to Valiance Keep.

Hilda Stoneforge, the Dwarven blacksmith in Valiance Keep, was as astonished by their actions as Poldaran had been. Wiping a tear from her eye, she had ordered the two men empty the cart. "We cannot let the civilians lose their lands if they're willing to fight for them. We might not have the troops to spare, but we can send them weapons," she said. She pointed at a couple racks of weapons she and the other smiths had finished. "These were earmarked for new recruits, but I'll be able to cover those with the ore that you've brought me. I'll have these men load up the cart and deliver the weapons to Gerald. You go let him know that they're on the way."

Poldaran wiped a tear from her eye as she remembered the look of gratitude on Gerald's face. "Farshire has a fighting chance now, Poldaran. That's all we could've asked for and you've made it possible." He thought for a moment. "All we need now is a rallying point. I'll have my men deliver the weapons to our town hall. Go and ring the town hall bell so any survivors know to rally there." A fiery determination shone in his eyes. "It's time to show the Scourge what we're made of."

Poldaran's slender fingers gently gripped the coarse rope of the town hall's bell and she pulled with all her might. The bell rang with a roaring echo. Despite the sound inside, she could hear one of Gerald's men, Gamlen, shouting outside. "To the town hall, everyone! We've brought you weapons! Arm yourselves and beat the Scourge back!" She rang the bell again and hurried downstairs.

There was no mistaking the look of gratitude on the faces of everyone rushing inside. Poldaran knew at that moment, that no matter what she had to do in this war, no matter what lines she might have to cross in order to fight her foes, no matter what destruction she had to sew upon the land, that this one night, she had done something good. It was all she could do not to cry.

"Scourge incoming!" someone shouted. Apparently the undead had also been drawn to the sound of the tolling bell.

Gerald Green held a spear high. "Come, friends, let us show them that they will not take our lands lightly!" Poldaran's hands burst into flames. "You mean to fight with us?" he asked her. The mage nodded, unsure whether she could keep her voice steady as she spoke. "Splendid! Let's make this a battle to remember!"

The fight lasted through the night. Thanks to the light mail and shields that the men and women of Farshire now wore, the worst injury sustained that night was little more than a flesh wound, though they held back more than four times their number in ghouls and zombies.

Poldaran sat upon the steps of the Town Hall, exhausted from the night's fighting. Gerald Green approached her. "Thanks once again for aiding us, Poldaran. The people of Farshire will always remember you."

"I wish only that I could do more," the mage replied.

She heard a sharp intake of breath. "Poldaran!" the white dragon called out.

"What is it, Vael?" she asked, rushing to his side.

"Look to the north!"

Poldaran did as he said and saw something in the crimson sky that gave her a shock. Black smoke billowed into the sky. There was a great fire to the north. Looked to be half a day's ride away by horseback.

Right where Benjamin's farm was.

** * **

Poldaran arrived at the farm within two hours of seeing the smoke. She cursed the Blue Dragonflight and its Nexus for tangling up the ley lines so badly that teleportation throughout the Borean Tundra was nigh impossible.

The house had been utterly destroyed. Smoking debris were all that remained. The barn had fared a little better, with only a few large holes in the sides where the dead had broken through to attack whomever had been inside. Vael landed next to it so that Poldaran could determine if anyone was still hiding inside.

Dozens of Scourge had been felled within its walls. Whomever had made their last stand had done so in a very brutal manner, leaving enemies slashed in half all around. The battle had not lasted long, Poldaran determined, but it had certainly been fierce. She looked for signs of person who had stood here, but there was no evidence of them, not even a few drops of fresh blood.

Whomever had made their stand here was not dead, but instead had been taken alive. Poldaran's heart soared. There was a chance that she could save whomever it was!

"Poldaran!" Vael called out. "I've found Benjamin!"

Poldaran rushed over to find the dying man half buried in a pile of fallen timbers. He saw her and hope began to shine in his eyes. "Poldaran," he said, prompting a fit of coughing. Blood oozed from his mouth.

"Save your strength," she said. "I'll go get a healer from the nearby town."

"Wait," he said, coughing again. "I don't have enough time. Besides, they attacked the town as well. If any healers survived, they'll be needed there." He coughed again. "He took Bethany."

"He?" Poldaran asked, confused.

"Arthas."

Poldaran's mind reeled. Why would the Lich King himself be here? This looked like nothing more than another small Scourge raid. The Lich King rarely involved himself in attacks on targets of strategic unimportance. She thought for a moment, and only one possibility presented itself: They had been there to capture her! Somehow, the Lich King must have known that she was in the area and brought a force out to subdue her. After a moment, she spoke, having collected her thoughts. "What direction did they take her?"

Benjamin gasped for air as more blood filled his lungs. He coughed to expel it. "Death gate," was all he could say. He coughed again weakly and expelled his last breath.

Poldaran pulled his eyelids closed and said a short prayer for him. She then stood and looked at her dragon companion. "Let's go, Vael," she said, her voice filled with rage at the thought of the many possible fates the Lich King might have in store for her friend.

"Where are we going?" he asked as she mounted the saddle on his back.

"We're going to track down this army and capture the necromancer leading it."

"What will we do with him if we find him?"

"That depends on him," she said. "If he tells me what I need to know quickly, then I'll simply kill him." Rage burned in her eyes. "However, if he decides to try to hold back that information....


"I'll make him wish that he had never been born."


** * **

He screamed in agony again. He hadn't known that it could hurt this much. Nothing that even the Lich King had shown him could hurt like this. He felt a strange sensation in his shoulder and looked. One of them was crawling just under his skin! If he could have moved his arms, he could have ripped the thing out, but his hands had been pinned to the wall by large shattered pieces of bone.

The woman looked at him. Her eyes terrified him more than even the creatures inside him that were feasting on his flesh. "I can end the pain," she said. "All you have to do is tell me what I wish to know."

"It was nothing more than a standard assault on a town and the outlying farms. We were gathering more corpses for our army," he sobbed.

She looked at him for a moment, her eyes cold. "You're lying," she said simply as she unleashed a small pulse of magic, causing the worms to excrete a substance that heightened the sensation of pain that they were inflicting upon him. He screamed again. She smiled at him. This chilled his blood even more. "Perhaps I'll leave you here with your pain for a few hours while I go have lunch. Maybe you'll be ready to talk when I return."

"No!" he cried out. "Please, end this! Kill me!"

"Just tell me what I wish to know, and I'll let you die," she said. The sweetness in her voice as she said it nearly made him panic.

He couldn't believe that they had been defeated so easily. There had been nearly two hundred dead with him. Almost two dozen Abominations! Yet she and that dragon had landed in the middle of the army. She destroyed a dozen ghouls within ten seconds of landing. But what had truly been terrifying was when she wrested control of the abominations away from him and the other necromancers in the army. The creatures surrendered to her immediately. Her will was truly something to be feared.

And that's why he had decided to give in. "Okay," he said, defeated. "We were specifically told to attack that farm."

"Why?" Her face was expressionless. "What did the Lich King want with that place?"

"There was a girl there that he wanted captured."

"So he was after me?"

"I don't believe so, daughter of Kel'thuzad. He took the girl he wanted."

"Why did he want Bethany?" He hesitated for a moment, so she commanded the worms to release their painful chemical again. After he stopped screaming, she spoke. "When I ask you a question, you will answer it promptly," she commanded, irritation upon her face.

"Yes, mistress." He swallowed some of the blood that was dripping down the back of his throat. "I was never told why he wanted her. My king commanded me, and I obeyed. I never questioned his orders. However, I did overhear him discussing the use of her against her family. If I had to hazard a guess, I'd guess that she was to be used as a hostage."

This revelation brought Poldaran some relief. If she was to be used as a hostage, there was a chance that she would still be alive for some time. If she could find out who the girl's family was, she would be able arrive in time to save her. "One more question, necromancer, and then I shall allow you the sweet release of death."

"Thank you, mistress."

"Where did he take her?"

"I do not know, mistress. I did not see where the death gate went. I was sent only to sack the town afterward because we were in the area. I only know that it seemed like this was very important to him."

"If you're lying to me, you'll know suffering for the rest of existence," she said, her voice filled with rage.

"I swear, mistress! I have told you all I know! Please, let me die!"

She blew a stray strand of hair out of her eye. "I believe you," she said quietly. She unleashed another pulse of magic. The necromancer felt the worms start moving, crawling up his neck. He cried out in agony once more as he felt them begin feasting upon his brain, then the room went silent.

The woman walked over to the corpse. The small worms were burrowing out from his skull. She held out her hand to them. They climbed onto it obediently. "Sleep now," she told them, encasing them in small crystals which she placed into a pouch she was carrying. She looked over at the other woman in the room, whose mouth was hanging open in awe. "You disapprove, Malyse?"

The black haired woman shook her head. "No. I hate to admit it, but I've never been more attracted to an individual as I am to you right now, Pol. If I didn't respect Nihlus so much, I would steal you from him." She laughed. "Would but the Titans have made you a Black Dragon. You would have been the best of us." Poldaran was unsure how she felt about that praise. Nonetheless, she had to admit that it felt good to punish someone for Bethany's kidnapping.

There was a knock at the door. "I hate to distract you from your entertainment, ladies, but a messenger has arrived that requires our immediate attention."

"We've finished in here, beloved," Poldaran said to elf on the other side of the door. "Please, let's hear what this messenger has to say."

They stepped outside into the common room of the ruined inn that was now serving as a makeshift torture chamber and were greeted by a black haired man. Malyse greeted him by bowing formally. "Greetings, Serinar. What brings you here?"

"Your sister, Nalice, sent me. There's trouble at the Wyrmrest Temple."

Poldaran's face grew serious. "What kind of trouble?"

The plan was a combination of simple elegance and amazing complexity. Malygos had retreated to a pocket dimension, a place where he controlled the flows of magic. They could not beat him there. He was in control. So the plan was to instead bring him out of it.

The simplicity of the plan was that all they had to do was bring him to the ground, where a hole Poldaran was working on opening would lie, ready to take him out of that dimension and into the normal world, with a bit of a fall waiting when he went through the hole.

The complexity of the plan stemmed from how they were to accomplish this. Each person had to play a role. Envinyata, Sharlot and Xelsia would be harassing him by buzzing around him and unleashing their most painful attacks, thus leaving Malygos susceptible to the chains that the others would try to bind him with. Envinyata and Nuna would ride the flying platforms that they had stolen from a storehouse nearby and use the shadow to sear Malygos while Sharlot and Xelsia would assume their Stormcrow forms and fire bolts of lightning at the Blue Aspect. Fennchurch, Nephelim, Raequann and Waste would all be throwing enchanted chains with grappling hooks at the dragon, attempting to tangle him up and bring him down.

Yoxutre had a more difficult job. He was to use the Spear of Hodir to chain himself to Malygos so that he could steer the dragon to the hole as it came down. He was to do this by hitting the beast as hard as he could with his mace in the direction he wanted it to go. When Poldaran had handed him the spear with a wicked smile on her face, he had groaned. Everyone had heard the story of how he had, under some strange influence of the spear, used it to bring down a Wild Wyrm in the Storm Peaks for no other reason than the challenge of it. Not one of his prouder moments. In fact, thinking back, he thought it was rather silly of him.

At first, things went exactly as Poldaran had said they would. Yoxutre was able to chain himself to the dragon, and due to the spear's magic, Malygos couldn't shake himself free. The ground team was able to easily get the chains hooked to Malygos, thanks to the air team's distractions. Unfortunately, Poldaran had forgotten to tell them that they needed to hook the chains to the ground near the hole she was opening so that the chains would direct Malygos into the opening.

So, as often happened when she forgot the details of a strategy for a fight, Poldaran was forced to improvise and shout somewhat panicked commands during battle. "HIT HIM WITH THE HAMMER TIL HE FALLS!" she shouted at Yoxutre. "START TARGETING THE WINGS!" she commanded the air team. "TRY TO GRAB THE CHAINS AND DRAG HIM DOWN!" she ordered the ground team.

Yoxutre laughed. "Alright," he said to himself. "'Hit him with the hammer' it is, then." He began pounding away at the spot between the dragon's wings with his mace. It was as good a spot as any to hit. He noticed that the others had begun concentrating their fire on the wings as instructed. After a while, Malygos began to fall.

Unfortunately, the ground crew had been unable to reach the chains, and the dragon was falling the wrong way... off the platform. "Crap!" Poldaran shouted out, unsure as to how to react. She began gathering her will to attempt to pull the falling dragon the way she wanted, but knew it wouldn't be enough.

"On it!" Envinyata shouted. The dwarf priestess guided her flying platform past the dragon at breakneck speed and performed a near instantaneous stop. She then flew full bore at the falling dragon and slammed into it with the platform's bottom, effectively kicking it upward and in the other direction. There was a slight miscalculation on the force of her kick, however, and the dragon was now on course to fall off the other side of the platform.

One of the Stormcrows screeched, and the other screeched back. They flew above the hole and waited until the flying dragon was in the perfect position. They then shapeshifted into massive Moonkins and sat on the dragon with a prejudice, thus correcting its course one last time in a general hole-ish direction. As they approached the dimensional hole in the platform, Yox wisely unchained himself and dove off.


A few moments later, they heard a dull thud as the dragon slammed into the icy ground below.

** * **

Alexandrine, known as the Merciful, was not in a good mood. After what she had seen in the Undercity, she felt a powerful need to hurt someone. "How dare Poldaran send me here!" she growled. "I should be on the front lines, fighting our enemies!" While she was stuck here dealing with small Scourge raids, she could be out fighting injustice.

To believe that the Forsaken could be capable of such atrocities! She just could not get the images out of her head. Especially the sight of that little girl, mutilated, her limbs harvested to assist in the creation of new Abominations.

Had Poldaran known about what was going on down there? Alexandrine knew that her sister had been to the Undercity on numerous occasions as an ambassador of Highlord Fordragon, but would she have failed to act if she had seen such things occurring?

Alexandrine just could not bring herself to believe such a thing, though part of her knew that Poldaran would have watched a hundred such children tortured to death if she believed that it would be for the greater good. She punched the wall in frustration, chipping the stone with her metal gauntlet.

After a few moments, there was a knock at her door. "Enter," she commanded softly. A young soldier opened the door. "What is it?" she asked.

"Lieutenant," he began, "High Commander Wyrmbane has requested your presence in the command bunker."

"I'll be there momentarily," she replied, dismissing him. It was strange for the High Commander to summon her personally. She was usually just sent orders and did whatever she had to do.

She reached the command bunker quickly, knowing that whatever she had been summoned for was important. She entered the strategy room and saluted. The High Commander bowed. "Lady Alexandrine," he greeted her.

This perplexed her. She had come here as a former member of the 7th, and as such had become used to being addressed as a military officer, not as the daughter of a noble house. For him to greet her thus meant something, but she wasn't sure what. "High Commander," she said with a nod, returning the greeting. She also nodded her greeting to the magus who stood over the map with the High Commander.

The High Commander gestured to a chair at a nearby table. "Please, have a seat," he offered. Alexandrine sat down across from him. "You're probably wondering why I requested your presence." She nodded. "Our scouts have just received word that a massive Scourge force, led by a Death Knight we don't recognize, has destroyed New Hearthglen and is on its way here. We have contacted Stormwind and Dalaran to request aid, but they are unable to assist us at this time."

"How large is this force?" Alexandrine asked, trying to assess how bad the situation would be.

"We're outnumbered, if estimates are correct, by approximately fifty to one." Alexandrine let out a low whistle. "Precisely."

"What of the Wyrmrest Accord?" Alexandrine asked.

"They are currently engaged in a massive battle of their own. The skies above the temple are filled with blue drakes."

"What can I do to help?" she asked.

"We were hoping you might have an idea as to the location of your sister. It is our hope that she might know a few independent factions that can send us aid."

Alexandrine nodded. "Last I heard, she was leading a force against a plot by the Black Dragonflight to overtake the Wyrmrest Temple. It's likely that she's involved in the battle for the Temple right now."

High Commander Wyrmbane looked at the magus. The elf nodded. "I'll contact the Temple immediately to see if she's still there." His eyes glazed over as he cast the spell. He spoke softly for a moment. "I understand," he said, ending the spell. "Lady Poldaran and her friends left the Wyrmrest Temple this morning for the Borean Tundra. Seems they're determined to bring the fight to Malygos."

"So it seems it's all coming to a head," High Commander Wyrmbane responded. "Can you contact them?"

"I tried," he responded. "Due to the effects of the chaotic ley lines of the Nexus, I am unable to establish a connection."

"Are you able to teleport there?"

"Unlikely. It would be dangerous at best, suicide most likely."

Wyrmbane nodded. "Send our fastest scout with a request for aid anyway. Teleport him as close as you safely can," he commanded. He turned to Alexandrine. "It seems we make our stand alone," he said.

Alexandrine nodded her understanding as she stood. "I'll go get my axe," she said turning to leave. "I have one request, High Commander."

"Yes, Lady Alexandrine?"

"The Death Knight is mine."


** * **

They stood around the chained Blue Aspect. He was just beginning to stir. He would awaken and thrash for a bit, that was certain. What was also certain was that it would be to no avail. He was bound with magical chains that not only bound his body, but his power as well.

They looked up to the east. A flight of red dragons could be seen in the distance. They seemed to be moving at reckless speeds. "Something isn't right," Envinyata said.

Poldaran nodded in agreement and began to concentrate. Her awareness shot toward the dragons. Not far behind them, she could see something else. "Mount up, everyone," she said.

"Trouble?" Xelsia asked.

"There's a massive flight of blue dragons behind the reds. They're going to need help." The others ran to their mounts. Vaelastrasz, Poldaran's shell brother, named after an old friend, began the incantation to transform back into his dragon form. Poldaran held up her hand to stop him. "No, this could be a diversion. We'll remain on the ground to watch the blue mealworm here. However, if they get close enough, feel free to hit them with whatever magic you deem fit." He nodded. She watched as the battle was joined in the skies not far from them.

"They're going to die, you know,' said a voice behind her.

"Not before you, Malygos," she replied, turning to look at him. "If the battle looks to be going badly, I'll kill you before risking your escape."

"Big words, human. We'll see if you have the courage to back them up."

Poldaran heard something some ways behind her. "Poldaran," Vael gasped weakly.

She turned to see, to her horror, the dragon in elf form with a blade sticking from his chest. "VAEL!" she called out. She ran towards him, hitting his assailant with a bolt of arcane energy. She caught him as he crumpled to the ground.

"I'm sorry, Pol. I should have been paying more attention,' he said.

A tear ran down her cheek. "Don't talk. Save your strength, little brother."

"I..." he began, then coughed up blood. "Mom told me to protect you," he said weakly. "Yet it always seems that you have to protect me. I'm sorry that I always get in the way."

"No, Vael, you're not in the way." He began slipping away. "Don't you dare die on me!" she shouted, but he was already gone. Her tears melted the snow where they fell.

Laughter shook her out of her grief. She turned towards Malygos. Between them was now over a hundred blue drakonids and turned magi. She recognized more than a few former friends among them. She cursed under her breath. It seemed that the chaotic energies surrounding the Nexus had hidden the telltale signs of magic she saw when invisible foes were nearby. "It seems that the tables have turned, human. But I am in a jovial mood today. Swear fealty to me and you do not have to die."

Poldaran could feel the rage surging within herself. "No," she said softly. "I must control it. I cannot give in to the rage."

Malygos could not hear her. "So you refuse to swear fealty? So be it. Bind her magic and kill her."

She felt her connection to the magic around her diminish. She turned to the blue Aspect and saw the smirk on his face. "@#%^ it," she said as she stopped fighting the rage. It filled her, boiling her blood and steeling her resolve. She tried to conjure a fireball at an approaching enemy. It fizzled less than a foot from her. Malygos laughed. It seemed that all she had left was her sword. "Nihlus trained me," she reminded herself. "I know everything he does. However, due to of training I lack the muscle memory and strength to back it up. Further, I lack the magic necessary to dilate time to allow me to make up for my shortcomings." She remembered that the fireball had almost flown a foot from her before fizzling.

It was perfect. The null magic field was flawed enough to allow her to draw enough magic and push it far enough to allow her to control her body with her mind instead of with her muscles. She laughed as she drew her sword and twisted the hilt, separating the double blade into two swords.

She realized something then. For the first time in her life, the rage filled her, but it did not control her. She controlled it. This was going to be fun. "I will give you one chance to surrender," she said to the hundred enemies surrounding her. They continued coming. "I thought not," she said.

She exploded forward, kicking one of her enemies in the kneecap hard enough to shatter it. She used the force of the kick to send herself backwards, where she slashed two separate foes before plunging one blade into the eye of another. She used her other blade to parry an incoming attack from behind and countered with the blade she pulled from her foe's eye, effortlessly slicing the attacker's head from his shoulders. She then punched the flying head with the hilt of her left sword, slamming it into the skull of another foe, cracking both skulls and breaking the spine of the target.

Malygos, while he saw that she was making quite a stand, was still confident. "What makes you think that you can stand against more than a hundred with nothing more than two swords?"

Poldaran plunged one blade into the chest of a large drakonid with a spear, and then kicked the spear twice in succession, slamming its tip into the stomach of one of the human mages. "Death is in my blood," she said, the rage evident in her voice. She pulled her blade from the drakonid's chest and leaped onto its shoulder, using it as a platform to launch a diving attack. Her shoulder slammed one of the attackers back into another, knocking them down. As she rolled back to her feet, she took the opportunity to hamstring foes on either side of her.

Malygos was beginning to worry. She had taken down far more foes than he had expected. "If you hadn't come here, your friend would not have died. It is all your fault," he said, trying to distract her.

Poldaran kicked a foe in the chest and deftly sliced the throats of another two foes. "Fate has brought me here," she said simply. She spun quickly and blocked the swipe of an axe. She severed the hand holding it with the other blade and flung it into the crowd with the first, embedding it in a foe's skull.

As the bodies began to mount, fear began to grip Malygos. "We shall destroy all your hopes and dreams!" he shouted.

Poldaran parried two simultaneous attacks and dodged another, causing the enemy's blade to impale a fourth. She pulled back her blades, causing her foes to stumble and unleashed a flurry of deft slices that severed tendons in multiple foes. "I hope for nothing," she replied as another slash disemboweled an enemy.

"We shall make your darkest terrors come true!" Malygos shouted.

Poldaran slammed her left sword into the chest of one of her enemies. It stuck in the chest and she was having trouble pulling it free. Another foe charged her. She parried his attack as she surrounded her free hand with flame. She then plunged the burning hand into his chest and pulled out his still beating heart, which she crammed down the throat of another assailant. She then yanked her left blade free from its new sheath with a mighty tug. "I fear nothing."

As Poldaran continued slaughtering those around her, the sky battle was not going as well. They were sorely outnumbered and the Blue Dragons wielded stronger magic within the skies of Coldarra. Still, they were holding their own. Yoxutre heard his name called out. He turned to Raequann. "Poldaran's in trouble!" Raequann shouted. Yoxutre turned. The death knight was correct. Poldaran seemed to be fighting alone against a massive number of foes. Unfortunately, blue dragons blocked their only path to her. She was on her own.

Poldaran continued her fight, becoming more and more brutal as the fight wore on. Sometimes unnecessarily so. She started punching more often before she would slash as she was beginning to enjoy the painful sensation of her fist bashing into someone's face. Soon, only she and one foe remained. The foe saw the wild look in her eyes and bolted. She caught up to him easily and drove her blades into his feet, pinning him to the ground. She then slammed her fist through his stomach and gripped his spine. With a single jerk, the light faded from his eyes and he crumpled to the ground in a lifeless heap.

She retrieved her swords and turned towards Malygos. At last, as she stood nearly motionless glaring at him, he could see her clearly. Her white robes were stained crimson with the blood that soaked her. Her hair was matted with gore that also dripped down her face. She took one look at the battle in the sky and then began charging on the Blue Aspect, howling in rage.

"NO!" Malygos shouted. "If you kill me, then no one will be able to control the use of magic by mortals! No one will be able to prevent your people from foolishly destroying all order to the magic of this world!"

Poldaran reached him and raised both her blades over him like a pair of giant scissors. "Then everything will be chaos," she growled as she brought them down, severing the great dragon's head from its body.

Her fight was over, but the rage was still not quenched. Two battles still raged where her friends were in danger. Once again able to conjure her magic, she projected her image into the skies over the Wyrmrest Temple and Coldarra. "Members of the Blue Dragonflight!" her voice boomed over both Coldarra and the Dragonblight. "Malygos is dead! I have slain him." She allowed a moment for that to sink in. "I grow weary of this fight. Because of this, I will offer you one chance and one chance alone."

Arcalanos, leading the attack on the Wyrmrest Temple, could not believe what he was hearing. Malygos dead, and this woman responsible? It was almost too much to bear.

She wiped some blood from her eye. "Surrender or flee, never to pursue this war again," she said. "If even a single one of you remains, the consequences will be dire." She paused a moment. "I have slain over a hundred of Malygos' defenders with nothing more than my swords and my hands. I make no idle boast. Bathed now in the chaotic magic I shall use my considerable skills at Necromancy to raise each of these fallen. They will be the beginning of my army. I will lead them against you in battle after bloody battle, my army growing with each of yours that falls until I have slain each and every one of your entire misbegotten race. Your whelps will be slain in your lairs. Your mates will die, only to be raised again into the torment of unlife.

"If it takes me a hundred years, every one of you shall be wiped from the face of Azeroth. That is the fate that awaits you if you defy me and continue this war. You have five minutes to decide, and then I will be forced to begin raising the fallen here."

Arcalanos reeled. One of the captains approached him. "We cannot be cowed by a single human. She is not capable of destroying us."

Arcalanos shook his head. "No. I have seen her power before. She raised a number of frost wyrms against us simultaneously once. She is not to be taken lightly. If she says that she will kill us, she means it. We must flee."

The captain was shocked, but Arcalanos was one of the oldest and wisest dragons still living. "I'll shall begin spreading the word. We flee."

As the dragons fled, the others flew down to check on Poldaran. Meanwhile, Poldaran's imaged was projected again, this time over Dalaran, blood and all.

Archmage Modera looked out at the image, which seemed to be staring right at her window in the Violet Citadel. "People of Dalaran!" Poldaran greeted them. "Friends, countrymen, esteemed members of the Kirin Tor, I am Poldaran, daughter of Kel'thuzad, known as The Lichborn. I bring you good news! Malygos is dead, slain by my hand. The Nexus War is over!" An image of the decapitated dragon's head lying in the snow appeared. A cheer erupted in the streets. "Let this forever be a day remembered by all enemies of Dalaran. Our people will be triumphant, no matter what foes we face!" Another cheer rang out in the streets. "Let none seek to impose their will upon us, for we shall not sit quietly and acquiesce, but instead will rise to the challenge and show our resolve! I thank the Kirin Tor for giving me the opportunity to be the sword of Dalaran's wrath this day. May the blessings of the light be upon us all," she said, the image fading.

Modera was taken aback. She was certain that the message was more than just a publicity stunt by Poldaran, that it was somehow a threat directed at her. Poldaran was trying to send her a message, but she was not sure what.

Back in Coldarra, Sharlot landed and ran to her friend. "Poldaran, you didn't just project your image to Dalaran looking like that, did you?" she asked.

Poldaran waved her hand and a large reflective sheet of ice shot out of the ground. She looked at herself for a moment and blushed, though none could see it with all the blood that covered her face. "Oh dear," she said, with a nervous giggle. "By fire be purged," she said softly, unleashing her will. Her body was enveloped by a quick but intensely burning immolation. When it ended, the blood was gone, though it had permanently stained her white robe crimson. She inspected herself in the ice sheet for a moment and sighed. "Good enough, I suppose," she said with a shrug as she dismissed the ice.

She looked around at her handiwork. She had certainly been angry, it seemed. When her eyes caught sight of the fallen white drake turned elf, her heart ached. She bent down and lifted the surprisingly light body and carried it to the edge of the woods, away from the carnage. She spoke a word of power and a blast of concussive force struck the ground in front of her, sending dirt flying everywhere.

She placed the body within the hole and then began drawing runes upon it, words in Draconic telling the story of his life. Afterwards, she stepped back and unleashed another burst of her will, igniting the corpse into a blazing inferno. Within moments, all that lie within the hole was a pile of ashes.

Poldaran reached out and called to the forest. It responded with a single acorn fallen from a tree. She pulled the seed to her and used her fingernail to carve another rune into it and shed a single tear upon the rune, causing it to begin to glow. She then placed the acorn upon the pile of ashes and covered it all with dirt. Finally, being unable to harness the power of nature to accelerate its growth, she sped up time around the grave.

Within moments, a tiny sapling sprouted. Each moment, it doubled in size, until it was a mighty tree, larger than the rest, at which point the time fluctuation ended. During the entire ordeal, tears streamed down Poldaran's face, and the faces of the others present, for none who watched the ceremony could remain untouched by the emotion of it.

A hand rested upon Poldaran's shoulder and a voice spoke. "You do his memory a great honor, child," it said. "He would be thankful to have you attend to him so."

Poldaran turned to see the face of the Dragonqueen, Alexstrasza. She had arrived unnoticed during the event. "Thank you," was all she could reply. They stood there, everything quiet for a few moments.

The silence was interrupted by a shout. "Lady Poldaran!" one of the Dalaranian mages called out. "A rider approaches from the east!"

Poldaran looked where they were pointing. "A white gryphon," she said. "Wintergarde? I wonder why they would send someone out here."

Within a few minutes, the gryphon landed and the rider kneeled before Poldaran. "Lady Wintermoon," he said. "I bring urgent word from Wintergarde."

"Rise and report, Sergeant," she replied.

"New Hearthglen has fallen. A massive undead army marches upon Wintergarde. They are likely already locked in combat with the defenders. The High Commander and Lady Alexandrine request aid."

"How large is this force?"

"Estimates put Wintergarde outnumbered 50 to one."

"What do they command in siege weaponry?"

"Enough to bring down the walls or gate within a day. Two at maximum."

"Which of the Lich King's lackeys leads the enemy?"

"We are uncertain as to the identity of the death knight who leads the forces. No one has seen her before."

"Her? Aside from Lady Blaumeux, I don't know of any female Death Knights in the Lich King's employ. None that would be put in charge of a force this size, at least. I'd also expect the 7th Legion to be able to identify her, so I think it's safe to assume it's another. Describe her."

"Black armor with red trim. Rides one of those generic steeds that Death Knights have taken to riding lately. Brown hair, barely faded. Looks to have been turned only recently. A survivor from New Hearthglen we rescued says that she wields vast necromantic power, but wields it like a bludgeon. Very little finesse to her style. The same goes for her military leadership. Her strategy is rudimentary at best. She just applies as much force as possible to where she decides to attack."

Poldaran played with a strand of her hair and paced, lost in thought. "Wields vast necromantic power like a bludgeon. Seems to be recently turned. Brown hair. Recently turned..." She froze as realization dawned. "To be used against her family...that's why she seemed so familar...that bastard..."

"What's wrong, Poldaran?" Yoxutre asked.

"Gather up everyone you can. Anyone who can fly or fight needs to get moving to Wintergarde. Have the mages here teleport you as soon as possible." She began trying to channel a teleportation spell. "Dammit! The ley lines are too tangled! I can't chart a safe course! I'll have to fly past them in order to teleport. Likely an hour's flight from here." She began gathering the magic from the air around her, saturating her body with magic. Her eyes began to glow and the very air around her crackled.

"That's not a safe way to travel, Lady Poldaran!" one of the mages cautioned.

"It's the fastest!" she replied. "I've already lost a brother today. I'm not going to lose a sister!" And with that, she shot into the sky, a glowing nimbus of energy streaking off to the east.

** * **