Moments later, her hair having gone white, her skin having wrinkled, her bones having grown weaker, she found herself on Kalimdor, in a grassy region in the mountains of the continent's eastern coast.
Proudmoore's voice was quiet when she said, "That must have been terrible for you."
"It was." Aegwynn shuddered. In fact, it was worse than that, but she had simply hit the high points for Proudmoore's benefit. She had actually tried to reason with Medivh, and tried to get an explanation from him as to why he did what he did—as if Sargeras needed a reason. But she saw no need to burden Proudmoore with that much—the point of the story was to show the depths of her own stupidity. She continued: "When I came here, I was able to use what little magic I had left to determine that there was no one around. I built my hut, planted my garden, dug my well. The wards didn't go up until Thrall and his people settled nearby."
"I'm not surprised." There was an odd tone to Proudmoore's voice when she said that—as if she knew something Aegwynn didn't.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
Before Proudmoore could answer, Aegwynn heard something. Proudmoore heard it too, as they both turned to face south. It sounded familiar, but it was a noise Aegwynn hadn't heard in years.
Moments later, her suspicion was confirmed: the noise was made by the displacement of air by a massive dirigible, which was now coming around one of the Bladescar peaks. It stopped right in front of the wards and hovered. Aegwynn assumed a mage—or at the very least, a sensitive—was on board.
A rope ladder fell from the undercarriage, and a figure in plate armor started to climb down. As the figure came closer, Aegwynn recognized the insignia on the armor as that of a colonel.
To her shock, the figure was a human female. She turned and gave Proudmoore a questioning glance.
The girl smiled. "If a woman can be a Guardian of Tirisfal, why can't a woman be a colonel?"
Aegwynn had no choice but to concede the point.
"Milady," the woman said as she came down off the bottom rung of the rope, "I'm afraid I bring bad news." She then looked askance at Aegwynn.
"Colonel Lorena, this is Magna Aegwynn. You may speak as freely to her as you would to me."
The colonel nodded and started to speak. Apparently the word of Jaina Proudmoore was enough for this colonel. Aegwynn grudgingly admitted to being impressed. A woman didn't rise to such a position without a great deal of hard work—she suspected that Lorena was twice as good as any male colonel, simply because she would have to be to succeed. If someone that talented trusted Proudmoore so implicitly, then Proudmoore may have been a more impressive specimen than Aegwynn had been willing to credit.
Perhaps there was something to the girl's hero worship after all.
Lorena said, "Ma'am, it is my firm belief that Chamberlain Kristoff is a member of the Burning Blade—that he has conspired to increase our forces at Northwatch and provoke the orcs into a conflict."
Proudmoore's face fell. "Kristoff? I don't believe that."
But the colonel spent the next several minutes explaining what had happened in Proudmoore's absence from Theramore.
When she was done, Aegwynn asked, "When did this Burning Blade start?"
"We're not sure," Proudmoore said. "We think it's related to a former orc clan. Why?"
"Because Zmodlor started a cult called the Burning Blade. In fact, the sword he was going to use to sacrifice the children he'd imprisoned was covered in oil and was to be set alight when the sacrifice commenced. Since Zmodlor is around, it's possible he was involved with those orcs as well."
Lorena spoke up before Proudmoore could respond to that. "Milady, why are you behind these wards? I brought Booraven with us to track you down, and she said there were wards up so we couldn't pass. But—why haven't you come out from behind them?"
"I'm afraid I can't. When I arrived here, I was able to penetrate the wards that had been put up, but they've been replaced with demonic wards from the very same Zmodlor that Magna Aegwynn was just discussing. I'm afraid I do not have the knowledge to bypass them."
"A pity," Aegwynn said. "If these were still my wards, I would let you through in an instant."
Snorting, Proudmoore said, "Don't be ridiculous—they were never your wards. They were Medivh's."
Aegwynn stared at Proudmoore in open—mouthed shock. "How did you—"
"When I first arrived here, I recognized the magic used for the wards as belonging to one of the Tirisfalen. But after I penetrated them, I realized I knew which of the Tirisfalen it was, because I'd encountered it before. As I tried to tell you earlier, I knew Medivh—it was he that brought human and orc to this land, and he that convinced us to ally against the Burning Legion. I know his magic quite well."
Lorena spoke before Aegwynn could respond. "Milady, with respect, time grows short. We must get you out of there. There has to be a way."
Proudmoore looked at Aegwynn. "There is. Teach me that spell of Meitre's." Pointing at the colonel, she added, "We now have the conduit."
"Very well," Aegwynn said, "if it means you'll leave me in peace."
"I'm afraid that's not possible."
Aegwynn blinked. "I beg your pardon?"
"You're coming with us."
Snorting, Aegwynn said, "Am I?"
"Yes. You are the magna, the Guardian who is all that stands between us and the demonic hordes. It is your responsibility to come with us."
"On what are you basing this ridiculous notion?"
"You said that Zmodlor built these wards. That means he is active—for all we know, he is responsible for the Burning Blade that is even now cutting through the alliance Thrall and I built at your son's behest. But you thought you defeated him eight centuries ago—obviously you didn't finish the job, and it is your responsibility—"
"What do you know of responsibility?" Aegwynn cried. "For eight—"
"Yes, I know what you did, Magna, you've told me quite a bit about your failures, your deceits, your lies, your arrogance—but what you've also reminded me of is that you never once shirked your responsibility as Guardian. Everything you did—from facing Zmodlor to defying the council to siring Medivh—was done because you believed in what you did. Regardless of your mistakes, of your defeats, you never once shirked that responsibility. Until now." Proudmoore shook her head. "You asked me what I know of responsibility, and right now I'd say more than you, because you never had to be responsible to anyone save yourself. I have led people into battle, and I have ruled them when the battle was over—and right now, the people who have trusted me need me, and it may well be because of a demon you were supposed to have killed. I will not see everything we have built here be brought down by your self—pity, Magna."
"I believe I've earned the right to determine my own destiny."
"Because you brought Medivh back?"
Again Proudmoore had managed to stun Aegwynn with her perspicacity. She found herself unable to speak.
"We always wondered how Medivh came back from the dead after Khadgar and Lothar defeated him. It would have taken powerful magic to do so. I might have been able to do it, and so could one or two others, but if they had, they would have admitted it. You said you were drained by your fight with Medivh, but there is one thing that could substitute for that necessary power, and that's the bond between mother and son."
Aegwynn nodded, staring off into space at an indeterminate point on one of the Bladescar peaks. "With what was left of the de—aging magic, I was able to scry in the well water and learn what was happening. I saw my son killed by his apprentice and his best friend—and I saw Sargeras banished from him. So I spent years building up the power to bring him back. When I did, it almost killed me. That was why the wards were Medivh's—I no longer had the strength to cast them. Or anything else. I still don't." She turned to face Proudmoore. "That was my swan song, Lady Proudmoore. It cannot even begin to make up for all I have done wrong."
"I disagree. What you've done is sire a son who saved the world.
It may have taken a while, but what he did was exactly what you would have done—what you conceived him to do. He went against the conventional wisdom and was proactive in fighting the Burning Legion by convincing Thrall and me to unite our forces. He didn't learn that from Sargeras, and he didn't learn that from whatever afterlife you retrieved him from—he learned that from you."
Lorena had been standing semipatiently during this entire conversation, her obvious respect for Lady Proudmoore overcoming her soldier's desire for action. "Milady—"
"Yes, of course," Aegwynn said, "your colonel is right. Zmodlor needs to be defeated—permanently this time." She sighed. "Prepare yourself, Colonel Lorena—this may hurt a bit. Lady Proudmoore, repeat after me."
And then Aegwynn taught Jaina Proudmoore Meitre's penetration spell.
Seventeen
Thrall had spent the day hearing petitions. Most were for mundane matters that he would have thought his fellow orcs could handle on their own. Some were for disputes in which the two sides simply were not capable of agreeing, and so a neutral third party was required to settle them. In truth, it could have been anyone who settled them, but as Warchief, it was his duty.
When the last of the petitioners had left the throne room, Thrall rose from the animal—skin seat and paced the room, grateful for the opportunity to stretch his legs. He still had not heard from Jaina regarding the thunder lizards, but he had not received any more reports of rampaging thunder lizards, either, so he presumed that the situation was in hand. He just hoped she solved it soon so he could consult her about this Flaming Sword.
Kalthar and Burx both entered then. The latter spoke in an urgent tone. "Warchief, there's someone here who has to talk to you. Now."
Thrall did not like the idea of Burx giving him orders, but before he could say anything, Kalthar gave Thrall a significant look.
"Do you think I should see this person, shaman?" Thrall asked.
"I do," Kalthar said quietly.
"Very well." Thrall stood his ground, having grown tired of the throne.
Burx went out and led one of the scouts in. A jungle troll, he was dressed in decorative armor and the mask that was traditional among those of the Darkspear tribe: feathers, wood, and paint combining with a triangular helmet to present a fearsome affect. By contrast, when he removed his helm, it was to reveal a friendly, open face, far gentler than one would expect from the fearsome Darkspears. Jungle trolls wielded powerful magicks, ones that no other race had ever been able to master—though Thrall knew of some humans who had tried and failed, at the cost of their souls—and the Darkspears had sworn allegiance to Thrall.
"This," Burx said, "is Rokhan."
The introduction was unnecessary—the troll's reputation preceded him as one of the finest scouts in Kalimdor.
Holding his helm under his arm, Rokhan stepped forward. "I'm afraid I be bringin' some bad news, mon. The humans, they be sendin' more troops to the Northwatch."
Thrall couldn't believe what he was hearing. "They're reinforcing?"
"That's what it look like, mon. I be seein' lotsa boats full'a soldiers, all headin' straight for the Northwatch. And they be sendin' one'a they airships up north, too, but it be goin' toward Bladescar."
Thrall frowned. "How many troops?"
Rokhan shrugged. "Hard to say, but they was at least twenty boats, and them things be carryin' at least twenty humans each."
"Four hundred troops," Burx said. "And this happened right after your friend Jaina went off to solve the thunder lizard problem that the humans caused. We can't wait for her to finish that, Warchief. I'm sure Jaina's intentions are good, but her people's aren't. And we can't ignore this!"
"Burx is correct." Kalthar spoke in a voice that sounded weary, and Thrall was reminded just how old the shaman was. "The maintenance of Northwatch Keep was a deliberate show of strength on the humans' part. However, this reinforcement in light of other recent events can only be an act of aggression, and one to which we must respond in kind."
"That was Admiral Proudmoore's stronghold." Burx hardly needed to remind Thrall of that, though that didn't stop him. "And now the subjects of Admiral Proudmoore's daughter are trying to finish his work behind her back."
Burx's words did not impress Thrall overmuch—but Kalthar's did. And Rokhan was the finest of his scouts. His observations were to be trusted.
"Very well. Burx, have Nazgrel assemble a garrison and send them into the Barrens. Have them take up position outside of Northwatch. Then I want you to take a fleet of our boats and send them downriver as well. Summon the trolls and have them do the same." He sighed. He had hoped that the days of fighting humans were past, but it seemed that old hatreds died very hard. "If the humans wish a fight, they will find us more than ready."
When Burx had finished giving instructions to Nazgrel and to the harbormaster, he returned to his home. He had preparations to make before he journeyed down the Great Sea in order to put an end to the human scourge once and for all.
It was while he was sharpening his ax that the smell of sulfur permeated his hut. He felt a warm sensation in the folds of his breeches, in the small inner pocket where he hid the talisman that Zmodlor had given him as a symbol of his allegiance.
Galtak Ered'nash. Does all go according to plan?
Burx hated the idea of swearing his allegiance to anyone save his own Warchief, but he played along and replied, "Galtak Ered'nash. It does. Thrall is sending troops by land and by sea. Within two days, our people will be at war with the humans. Within a week of that, the humans will be destroyed."
Excellent. You have done well, Burx.
"I just want to do what's right for the orcs. That's all I care about."
Of course. Both our causes are served by this war. Galtak Ered'nash.
As far as Burx was concerned, it was the lesser of two evils, was all. The demons were bastards, yeah, but they always had the orcs' best interests in mind. They brought the orcs to this world so they could rule it. It wasn't the demons' fault that the humans were able to do so well, to imprison them and make them forget who they were. Sure, the demons were using the orcs, but at least they never humiliated them.
Burx had grown up a slave. Humans regularly beat him, taunted him, defecated on him, and then forced him to clean up their messes while they laughed at him. They called him all manner of names, the kindest of which was "you greenskinned oaf," and they made sure to give him the most degrading tasks. Burx was never sure why he was singled out among the orcs on the estate for the horrible duties—no one ever bothered to tell him. Perhaps he was simply picked at random.
Compared to what he went through as a human slave, what the demons did was nothing. And if it meant cooperating with one of them to make sure that the plague that was humanity was wiped out, that was okay with Burx.
He owed Thrall everything and more, but Thrall could not get past his blind spot regarding the humans. But then, Thrall had been well regarded by his master. True, Aedelas Blackmoore had had nasty plans for Thrall, but he had treated him a lot better than Burx's master did—better than most orcs, in fact.
Slowly but surely, Thrall was seeing the error of his ways. This troop amassment at Northwatch had finally done it. At this point, it was just a matter of time. Orc and troll warriors so close to human soldiers—it would be a powder keg.
Burx finished sharpening his ax, looking forward to seeing it run red with human blood.
Eighteen
Lorena's chest pounded, and she had trouble breathing. Her plate mail felt as if it were constricting her.
But Lady Proudmoore and her friend—named Aegwynn, apparently, and whoever she was, the lady looked on her with more respect and awe than Lorena had ever seen her display before—were able to step through the demonic wards that kept them trapped. Apparently, they had to use Lorena's body on the other side of the wards to disrupt them. The colonel didn't understand any of it. Talk of magic usually just gave her a headache; all she cared about was whether or not it work
ed. When the lady cast the spell, it almost always did.
Lady Proudmoore then turned to the older woman. "Magna, I have a request."
"Oh?"
"Would you object to sharing your space with some thunder lizards? I can cast wards that will keep your house, your garden, and your well safe. And the highlands will keep them contained." She quickly explained the situation with the thunder lizards.
At that, the old woman laughed. "I have no objection whatsoever. I had a thunder lizard as a pet once."
Lorena's jaw fell open. "Please tell me you're joking."
"Not at all. It was shortly after my four hundredth birthday. After so long, the loneliness got rather overwhelming, so I decided to have a pet. I viewed domesticating a kodo as a challenge. I named him Scavell, after my mentor."
"Kodo?" Lorena asked with a frown.
Aegwynn shrugged. "It's what we called them then. In any event, I've always had a fondness for those beasts, and I'm more than happy to share my home with them."
"Thank you, Magna." Lady Proudmoore then turned to Lorena. "Give me a few minutes to complete the task that took me to Durotar in the first place, and then we will return to Theramore—I'll teleport the three of us. Instruct your soldiers to return to Theramore immediately via the airship." She smiled wryly. "I'm afraid teleporting the entirety of the airship after bringing the thunder lizards here will tax me beyond my capacity to be useful."
"Very good, milady," Lorena said with a nod.
"Thank you, Colonel." The lady said the words with a heartfelt smile, and Lorena felt a rush of pride. The colonel had taken a huge risk coming here, trusting Booraven's abilities to find Lady Proudmoore in orc country, and hoping that the lady would not be angered at her presumptuousness. But it seemed she had been right to trust her instincts—and on top of that, she had been instrumental in freeing the lady and her friend from their prison.
Cycle of Hatred (world of warcraft) Page 13
