The Death Knight, Part 5

Two weeks passed by before Furis and I finally set foot back on Shattrath ground. We spent a week at the throne, where I have no recollection of what happened. All I can tell you is that they had me sit at the base of a waterfall, the water cascading just behind me. I went into a trance of sort, and I awoke a week later.

Not a damn memory had returned; at least not to me.

When I awoke, the shaman did confirm for me who I was before, the night elf known as Ireth, but that was all she would say. After that, she didn't say much at all to me. I could tell that something was bothering, no doubt that had occurred during my week of unconsciousness, but she wouldn't give even the slightest hints. Even the elementalists were giving me a cold shoulder, seeming a bit relieved when we finally left.

The trip was quiet. Unlike before, where we charged with all our speed, we took our time this time. I took the chance to watch the land, to see the lush fields of green while the natural wildlife of the area wandered about. They seemed to avoid the path we rode upon. Maybe they were just avoiding me.

When we finally reached the path to Shattrath, a group of Aldor neophytes slowed us. They seemed unwilling to allow myself into the city. It wasn't until a senior guard came along, noting I was the one responsible for the events in Netherstorm, that we got through to enter the city.

Strange... the city seemed so much bigger from up on the Aldor Rise, and yet so much smaller as well. I didn't enjoy it long, though, for Furis seemed to be in a hurry to return to Stormwind. We rode through the rise, taking an elevator that led us down to the entrance of the center temple where, as before, A'dal floated about. Khadgar was with him. We would've just left, but curiosity suddenly hit me; what had happened to Swiftforce? Surely Khadgar and A'dal would know!

I didn't really say much to let Furis know what I was doing - the shaman just typically knew things – as I dismounted from Terror and approached the two. They saw me coming from a distance, Khadgar cheering my name.

"Milleuda! We had heard of what happened out within the Netherstorm! I thank you deeply for what you did out there. It will be a great asset for reforming peace across Outlands,"

A'dal, too, spoke to me. His message was just within my mind though, something only for me to here. I'd rather not repeat it now.

I accepted their praise with whatever grace I could muster. I honestly didn't care about their it; I just wanted my question answered. The moment I could, I asked it plainly: where was Swiftforce, and did he still live?

"We had a great discussion here regarding his fate. Velen of the Draenei and Lady Liadrin from the Blood Knights of Silvermoon were involved in it, along with the leaders of the Scryer and Aldor..."

"In the end, it was decided that he would be placed before a court in Silvermoon. They would decide his fate. I believe tomorrow they were going to give a verdict."

I left it at that. They offered to let me know the verdict, but I didn't bother. He probably would be sentenced to death anyway; the blood elves were bound to be harsher for his sticking with Kael'Thas than the Scryers or Aldor would've been. We left quickly through a portal to Stormwind, opened by the resident portal master, still with silence between the shaman and I.

We appeared within the mage tower – I assumed this is where all who came through portals ended up, just since it was easier to focus upon - and quickly made our way across the city to the old town, where the others were.

Or they would've been. We had barely left the tower when a soldier approached us, informing, I noted closely, Furis that the Solace had left for Northrend already. It would be another week before another boat shipped out, and we were called in for an audience with the king anyway.

The next day I stood back within that royal chamber, though moreso off to the side now. The audience, I assumed, was more for Furis, so I didn't pay much heed to what was going on. After a while, I was called over to speak with Varian, where he congratulated me for my efforts in Outland. Once again, I didn't care for it yet still tried my best to sound grateful for such words.

When finally we were done, there was nothing new to be learned. However, the king asked for us to come to him again the next day. Supposedly then we would learn something new.

Like most nights, I didn't sleep. Instead I found myself upon the rooftops of the city, sprawled out on my back as I watched the sky. My armour had been left where I slept, but my rune blade stayed at my side. The stars were twinkling lightly in the black sky, and with the moon they created a beautiful light over the city streets.

As I watched, my eyes began to draw little lines between the stars, forming images that only I could see. I didn't put enough conscience thought into determining the things I saw, instead choosing to ignore it and move onto something new. However, at one point this changed.

In the stars, I could see something I hadn't expected to find; the shape of a sword. It was not my own, nor any I knew. Yet for some reason, in some strange way, I knew it. I knew this weapon, but I could not place where, how, and especially not why. And as I looked at that sword, formed within the stores, it began to tell me something I didn't expect.

'Look out!'

Instinct kicked in as I rolled over the roof just moments before a pair of daggers could strike at where my head once rested. A sweep of my legs brought me to be upon my feet, crouched as I looked at my attacker. Their face was masked, but it was obviously a human; a rogue.

"I don't give a damn what Varian says! No Scourge-infested death kngiht will remain in my city while I draw breath!" my attacker pulled his daggers from the roof and came jumping at me again. A dagger came slashing at me as I sprung up and away; the dagger came within an inch of my stomach. Feet slid along the rough roof as I turned and began to run; I'd deal with getting my sword again after. The rogue followed swiftly after me with an aura of hunger that reminded me much of my own.

My feet spun around as I turned to face my attacker, now a distance between us, as I rose my hands up. I knew he could tell I was casting something, for bits of ice were now floating around my hands. He came to a quick halt, staring me down. Disarmed or not, he wasn't going to rush in against a death knight who was willing to use their powers.

"Just what good will it do you?! Kill me and you'll be executed anyway for killing one of Stormwind's own!"

"You don't know much about death knights, do you?" I gave him a smirk, noting that in the small bit of his face I could see he might have been rather dashing, "I wonder if you're as cute as you are stupid."

He tried to rush at me, but it was too late. He nearly fell over when his feet refused to move. He looked down to find them, as well as his legs up to his knees, encased in thick ice. Obviously, he struggled, but to no avail. Of course, he did exactly what I wanted him to; take his eyes off me. When finally he thought to look, I had already rushed him, my fist slamming into his face. I could hear the cracking of bone as his head went flying back. Any focus he had was instantly lost, his consciousness quickly slipping as his body followed after him. The ice trapping him quickly broke, letting him fly backwards and crash hard into the rooftop.

He no longer held his weapons.

I already stood up above him. He was barely conscious, just enough to let himself look at me and comprehend my words, "I don't give a damn what you think of death knights, but if you damn well EVER speak of the idea that I am with the Scourge, I will give you a long and painful death! And if you think being a citizen of Stormwind will save you... let's just say I know more than you about magic. What you can learn and confirm through it is astounding."

And with that I left him there. I'd let him lay there in pain while I retrieved Furis to help him, though that wouldn't be until I held my own sword again. As I made my way back, the corner of my eye caught the flapping of fabric from a dark corner, but when I turned to look there was nothing there.

When morning came, Furis has finished properly healing the fool's nose. I had tied him up when I first got her up there, since I didn't feel like letting him run wild when I brought him to the king; I was certain Varian would love to hear about this.

When finally we saw Varian again, though, there was another with him. He wore a very similar outfit to the man I had beaten, though his eyes and hair were quite different. I paid no heed, throwing the rogue down in front of the king.

"I'm sorry for this odd addition, King Wyrnn, but this idiot decided he would attack me unprovoked last night as I was stargazing. Said he'd not let one such as myself within Stormwind so long as he lived."

I watched the king look at the man I had thrown down, who was now staring at back at Varian. We didn't bother to uncover his face. Varian watched him for a moment before finally turning back to the man who stood beside the throne, "Is this the one you spoke of then, Mathias?"

"He is."

"Then take him and leave."

The man, Mathias his name, gave a bow before he walked over to us. He lifted the tied rogue up by the scruff of his shirt, pushing him to get him moving. The two made a quick exit, though I could not fathom why he looked so calm.

"Guards, I wish for you all to leave for the moment. Seal the throne room and let no others in until I say so."

The order was quickly followed. Three doorways were closed up around, the guards retreating into the rooms they led to. The main hallway was blocked off too, much to my own surprise. My shaman companion seemed calm about it, though. When finally it was all done, only the three of us stood within the throne room.

"Now then..." The king began to speak, and for a moment I felt as if he was going to grab the swords that rested within his belt; his hands were sitting upon their hilts. However, he did nothing, "I must begin with an apology."

With that he began a tale. When I had first arrived here, despite the letter I gave him from Tirion Fordring, he had many doubts about me. This was why I was teamed with the Solace; they were meant to monitor me. When he got word that I had been split from the Solace, Varian was unsure how to act. How could they properly monitor me? So instead, he had a message sent to Tirion to confirm the letter. The reply came that very morning.

"We were still unsure when you returned yesterday, though, so Mathias recommended I send one of his rogues against you. Our man would feign pure hatred towards you, providing it wasn't true. The real test was on how you treated him upon winning. Of course, you passed by sparing his life as well as fetching a healer."

"Wait, so you decided to just damn well test me?! What the hell would be the point of me just walking into Stormwind, right to its king, and present a letter from one of the greatest living paladins?! That's not the sort of damned game Arthas would play!"

Varian remained silent. I felt a strong urge to just take my blade and cut him down there. I know that I could. He may have been ready to defend himself, but I could still do many things he couldn't fathom.

Then again, so could Furis. I could feel her eyes watching from nearby, cautious. Of course. She was in on it all. The whole Solace most likely was. Who gave a damn about what good I did in Outlands? I was still to be judged. I wondered what the others of the Solace, the ones that seemed more willing to accept me, thought of me?

"To hell with you and your damn idiocy! Darion can have someone else fill this gig, I'm out of here."

As I turned and began for the door, though, I could hear Varian speak once again, "Tell me... what do you think we should think? You were a knight of quite possibly the greatest threat to Azeroth. Your mind, your thoughts, your will had all been warped to follow him. Were we to truly believe you were completely free?"

"Or were you not aware that Arthas attacked us, our allies and even our enemies about a week before your arrival? What would you think, in my position? It was a damn miracle you weren't stuck down before you reached my throne room! That's the kind of fear a death knight instills in my people!"

I wheeled on a heel, facing the king once again, though this time my sword was drawn out; he had anticipated it, for his own were drawn, "I had reason to believe you were still with him, with Arthas. Until the letter I was given not moments before you entered here, I had reason to believe you were against the Alliance."

"And what? Now that you have another letter from Tirion, this time handed to you by the hand of you can trust, it means I can be trusted? What about if the events at Light's Hope were staged? What if they were to cause the effect they have now? You can't possibly say there is trust in me."

Well, that silenced him. Varian could do nothing but look blankly at me; my words rang truth, "I thought so."

"No... we can put some trust within you. It isn't much, but it's a start. Tirion's new letter accounts for everything that happened at Light's Hope. I find it hard to believe it all to be false, given much of it was not something Arthas could've planned for," he finally spoke, and for the first time I realized how true it was.

"And we have the recommendation of Khadgar and A'dal. Though I know little of these 'naaru', I know enough to say that their opinion speaks for a lot."

"You also have the approval of all of the Solace," finally, the shaman spoke, "Even Windstrom and Alasse, despite their views of you, spoke well of you to King Wyrnn."

This still changed nothing. I couldn't give a damn. I didn't want to hear their garbage anymore.

"I want you both to listen closely, and make sure you understand every word of it. I... am NOT a part of your damn Alliance. You, Varian Wyrnn, are no king of mine. I am here amoung your kind as an ambassador and representative of my group, the Knights of the Ebon Blade. If you ever so dare as pull anything like this against me or any other member of the Ebon Blade, I will take your head myself."

Not another word could be spoken before I marched to the door. My foot rose up to give a shattering pound against it. The door shot open, quaking, and the startled looks from the guards waiting outside told me they were smart enough to not listen in. I marched past them with a glare in my eyes and a scowl on my lips. They were smart enough to not look at me. I didn't bother to look back at Furis and the 'king', both of whom I knew were watching my back.

I made myself unapproachable for the day, instead choosing to stay upon the rooftops of the Old Town. Refusing to now part with my armour, or my weapon, at any point, I sat with a bit of a heavy feel on my shoulders. The blade rested beside me, though a hand was kept clenching around the hilt. I couldn't wait to get to Northrend, so I could begin my own personal campaign against the Lich King. As I sat there, just thinking of that moment when I could get to strike the wretch down, a voice began carrying over the town. A thick accent, demanding and rich. It reminded me of...

"Now where the bloody 'ell 'as dat lass gone? By Muradin's beard, King Magni sends me 'ere with this blasted armor, and then dat shaman tells me the lass they're for is 'idin' 'erself!" the voice was now on the streets below. Normally I wouldn't give a damn, but the mention of a king and a shaman, even if not the king I spoke with, irked me a bit. I got up onto my feet and moved to the edge, looking down to see a dwarf. He had a horse following behind him, wheeling a cart around. There was a gruffness in his demeanor that seemed a bit silly to me.

"You would think findin' somethin' like a deat' knight would be easy, but nooo!" the dwarf grumbled loudly on, throwing his arms up in exasperation.

"And why are you looking for a death knight?" I decided to call out to the dwarf, grinning a bit sadistically as he stopped in his tracks and began looking frantically around. Eventually his gaze went up, straight at me.

"So, ye mus' be da one I'm lookin' for! Would ye mind comin' down 'ere? I've been lookin' for ya all damn day to give ya this!"

When I gave him a curious look, he only shrugged his shoulders as he walked on back to the cart, yanking away at the cloth cover. The sun instantly shined brightly against what laid within it; a full set of armor, a dark blue hue in colour, as if trying to go with my hair. For a moment I wondered why my hair wasn't as lifeless as the rest of me...

The shoulderpads had the styling of skulls in them, the eyes inset, dead; black in colour. The gauntlets were engraved with skulls on the outside, redone slightly on the inside for better flexibility while the boots did the same thing only using the front and backs. The leggings were segmented in two layers; outer plates were chained together, thickening the protection around most of the legs. Inside it was thinner, though this was no doubt done to help with flexibility.

The torso plate, meanwhile, was done in two; that which covered my arms and chest, and that which would deal with my stomach. The former had a ribbed look caused by the plates on the chest, as if it was meant to show the bones inside me, while as it moved up to my shoulders and down my arms there was a very articulate design. It looked very flexible. Then again, the entire set of armour was having this look. Covering my stomach was a thinner plate, in each another skull had been engraved upon, with more detail surrounding it. What surprised me the most was the sizing of it. Everything looked like a perfect fit!

Yet... it felt incomplete.

"Set of armour for ya. Requested by King Varian Wyrnn about... well, it's been a while now. Plans given to him by some fellow named 'Thasrian' or somethin', I dunno."

A more pleasing grin crossed my face as I leapt from the building, landing only a few feet from the dwarf. The horse jumped with a startle, but a quick grab of the reins and a tug brought it under control before it could take off. The dwarf - still didn't know his name – moved aside as I peered closer on the armour.

"Plans said the armour couldn't be completely finished until given to ye. Something 'bout the 'wielder's touch'."

I gave a look to the dwarf, and the words made sense. This was probably more than just by plans. Chances are the materials were provided too. There was excess amounts of saronite and cobalt laying around Acherus, after all. Thassarian, as I had figured was who was sent, must've brought it all here. I would later find out Thassarian was sent to join the Alliance army, to be there when they first hit Northrend and to help them begin the expedition.

"Do you have an armour stand with you?"

"Aye, I do."

"Then I need a place where we're not so... open. A quiet, secluded place."

"I know where te go, lass." The dwarf quickly threw the sheet back over the cart to cover the armour once more, grabbing the reins and giving a pull on the horse. It slowly turned around in the street so we could walk the other way.

"Follow me," the dwarf spoke a bit grimly. I don't think he liked me. Then again, nobody really did. Oh well. He led me out of the Old Town, across the bridge that let me look straight at the keep, and into the dwarven district, the place where a number of dwarves from Ironforge practiced their blacksmithing along with the humans.

As we entered in, the dwarf came up to the nearest house on the left. He lashed the horse to a nearby solid post.

"This is the place we use when 'uman mages need to imbue magic or whatever on what we craft. Not in use right now, so it'll be fine," he said without looking at me once as he yanked the sheet off the cart again, "I'll go inside and get a stand ready. Mind carryin' some o' that in?

He made for the door, opening it with ease and disappearing inside as I reached into the cart to grab the chest plate. As my hand, still covered in its current armor, grazed over the shoulderpads, I could see them flicker. This already seemed a bit more... advanced than what I'd seen before. Did Darion get help from the paladins with these plans? Or was it the work of the dwarves? Either way...

Piece by piece I carried it all inside, as the dwarf put it together on the stand. When it was done, every piece was there now, standing together as if it was being worn. It was a bit loose, of course, bigger looking than my own form, but such was the case with these stands.

"You can stay if you want, or leave. Your choice."

"Quite frankly, lass, I'd like to see what ye do. I ain't ever seen an enchantment go on before, let alone one done by the very person who will wear the armour."

I kept myself from grinning. Even if he didn't like me, this was his craft we were talking about. I wondered if he might've forged this himself. He sat upon a nearby chair, hand stroking a thick beard as he watched.

"Well, before I begin... what's your name, dwarf?"

"Molraw Steelbrand," I could hear the name roll off his accent. It was kind of funny to me.

"Well, Molraw, I'd like to know if you were the one responsible for the crafting of this armour."

"Aye. Didn' do it alone, but I did most of the work."

"Good. That'll make this easier..."

With a swift motion, I removed my old gloves from my hands, letting them drop to the ground. Exposed skin pressed against the chest plate as I began to wonder just how I wanted to do this... one idea came straight to mind...

"Tohu, Tehom, Theli, Than..."

At that moment, I knew as much as I still know now that this armour would be worth so much...