Beitrag von Mazaniam
((
Chapter Eight))
The Red Dragons floated in the Infinite Dragonshine, deeply disturbed. The Draknoids below them had concocted a shielding spell. Despite not being able to see, the Reds sensed demons beneath them.
”I do not trust this Flight. Why cast a shielding spell if they are innocent?” The first one said.
”True brother, but the Aspects have chosen. We must not doubt their judgement.” The second replied.
---
Jeremy strode into the waiting room of the keep. How different this had looked during King Varian’s reign. In fact, how different everything had looked. He still remembered the day that Anduin had taken the throne, his first act reinforcing his own keep. Dwarven smiths had been at the walls for months. Now, a large, dwarf-style Throne room sat in the north most room of the keep.
“Jeremy Heraldson?” Jeremy nodded. “King Varian requests your presence now, sir.” He sat up, wiping his sticky hands on his thin cloth pants.
“As you wish.” With a big sigh, Jeremy stood up and walked into the throne room.
---
"DEATH TO THE REBELS!" The battle cry echoed around Saurko, as the the Ebon Blade besieged it. It was clearly a lost battle on their part, but the Scourge were raining hell down on the Blade, in a last act of defiance. A hour ago, when the Blade had first attacked, they had sent the rotting corpse of Karl on a Skeletal Gryphon to Icecrown.
Bolvar be with us, please.
--
Morec cut through a invader with his runeblade, wheeling round and stabbing another behind him.
"I AM A SCOURGELORD! DO NOT MAKE ME SHOW MY TRUE POWERS!" He yelled, but it was clear he was tiring. Morec was a old Scourgelord, and he knew true death called. It whispered in his head, constantly, stealing the will from him.
"Once, we feared you, but now, I think its time we showed you the powers of the Ebon Blade!"---
Tekfein, too, was under heavy siege. But not from the Rebels, but Bolvar. As overseer of Saurko, Tekfein was of course, blamed for this failure.
"Fortunately for you, I will give you one last chance. Lord Zasus Morgraine. Kill him. I will rescue you this time, but you must immediately head to the headquarters. I give you .. one month, at most. But rest assured, I will not be happy if it his head is not delivered to me within the week, do I make myself clear, Tekfein?" Bolvar said. The mirage in front of him shivered, causing the room to drop its temperature.
"Yes, Your Majesty." He replied.
---
Bolvar Fordragon, the dark lord, closed his rock-coated eyelids, and willed the powers of Frost, Blood, and Unholy alike into Azeroth. He pumped it down to the Icecrown floor, crossing Northend at a unimaginable pace. Within minutes, it was at Saurko. He willed it around it, coating it in a strange, unholy, energy barrier. And, within the hour, Saurko replied that the Ebon Blade had left. He was glad. Not only was Saurko his only Dread Citadel, he held the the power of Morgraine in his hands. Tekfein had never failed a Assassination misson, ever.
He smiled, showing the lava stalactites he had for teeth.
"No king rules forever, or in this case, Highlord." He laughed, a deep, hollow sound.
Death was coming.