Hand of Vengeance

The small landing ship descended from the fleet of Forsaken vessels moving around the Howling Fjord, all of which bombarding the cost with cannon fire.

As the ship landed a figure encased in black armor and two Imperial Guardsmen marched forth through the battlefield, for no obvious destination.

A Forsaken Lieutenant and two soldiers quickly rushed toward the three.

"Lord Bellmont-- we did not expect your presence. I was to understand you where--" started the Forsaken Lieutenant, visibly nervous.

"The opperation has been finished, the plan set in motion has began and cannot be stopped by the Lich King or his pawns." hissed Bellmont, not turning to adress the Lieutenant.

"The battle goes well, we where ambushed by Alliance forces but as you can see we are handling--" the Lieutenant stopped as Bellmont casted strangulate, crushing the Lieutenant's throat to silience him.

"My buisness here is not of your concern. The fact that you have not handled this situation is pathetic yet not my primary concern. Return to your duties, Lieutenant." hissed Bellmont, releasing the Lieutenant and causing him to drop to the ground.

Bellmont continued down the battlefield, ocassionally tossing an Alliance or Forsaken soldier who'd stumbled into his path.

A Dwarven Siege Engine rolled toward them, Bellmont lifted his blade but his two guardsmen where already on the situation, chanting their words of magic and bringing up a pillar of fire from beneath the engine. Causing it to explode.

Bellmont nodded to his guardsmen as he reached his destination, a Forsaken artillary camp located on a hill. There cannons firing down upon the Alliance fighting them.

With an impressive leap, Bellmont made it over the walls and into the center of the camp. The two guardsmen sighing and frantically running up the long ramp leading to the camp.

Bellmont approached a Forsaken dressed in dark atire, with clouds of pestilience and plague acting as his aura.

"Ah, Grand Executor Bellmont, to what do we owe this esteemed pleasure. I can see your pentition for the dramatics has not changed with your new mastery." said Grand Apothecary Putris, bowing. His tone holding a not so subtle amount of sarcasm.

The soldiers grimaced, fearing they'd be caught up in a political debate. The mutual distaste the two Grand Overseers held for eachother was well known.

"I have come to inform you that I will be joining you in the attacks of Northrend." said Bellmont, stabbing his runeblade intot he ground and leaning on it.

"Hmm?" hissed Putris, caught off guard by his remark "What of the Operation in the Plaguelands." asked Putris,

"It has been finished to our Lady's standards." said Bellmont,

"Ah, I can see they must have drooped signifigantly since last I converesed with 'her'." said Putris,

"Oh, not at all Grand Apothecary, afterall I'm here to handle the invasion." said Bellmont, several soldiers restrained chuckles as Grand Apothecary Putris became visibly irriated.

"But what of the Defense of our--" began Putris,

"Grand Champion Blightcaller has absorbed several units of the 1st Lordaeron Guard, the majortiy of my forces have been fused with the Northrend Offensive." said Bellmont,

"Ah... and I suppose this would be the 412th Scourge Stabbers" said Putris,

"No, our Queen has deemed this movement the Hand of Vengance. As you see some Forsaken seek revenge against the Scourge, while 'others' seem to remember the false king more kindly." hissed Bellmont.

Putris glared, but nodded.

"Now, perhaps I can change the tide of this battle." said Bellmont as he bowed, feigning his respect to Putris as he lept off of the hold and onto the battlefield.

Cleaving numerous Alliance, he made his way through the battlefield with no particular objective other then thining the number of Alliance soldiers. Until finally he felt a strong presence, he turned to face the famed Bolvar Fordragon.

"Ah, so you finally show yourself, Paladin. Tell me, how fairs your noble King? I wonder how he will wipe himself without your presence." hissed Bellmont drawing his weapon,

"Very good, tell me Night Bringer, how much time does your Queen spend to not become a rotting husk like the majority of your 'great' kingdom." responded Bolvar.

"Enough talk." hissed Bellmont as he rushed forth bringing his runeblade against Fordragon's hammer.

They whirled around, parrying eachother's powerful blows. The two locked weapons with eachother, and the energies in the two weapons began to repel eachother.

Crackling with energy there was an explosion of light and shadow, sending each back several feet. Bellmont immediatly stabbed his blade into the ground, and ghouls crawled forth, rushing at Fordragon. Swiftly he oblitereated them with a burst of Light, and lept into the air, bringing down his hammer on the ground near Bellmont.

A plume of light exploded from the ground and Bellmont lept away, fighting his concencration with Death and Decay. The two magics crackled against eachother as Bellmont and Fordragon exchanged glares, focusing on their spells each.

A loud ring suddenly echoed in his ear as Bellmont found himself airborne, looking around he saw a large crater in the ground where he once stood. It would seem the cannons from the Alliance's towers had noticed him.

He hit the beach and stood, shaking the sand of him. Perhaps he was not yet ready to be on the front, still. The last part still had to be put in motion of his plot.

Victory would come in time, of that much he knew. The Dark Lady deemed it so, but to serve his Queen, he'd have to earn her favor, by painting the ground red with the blood of these enemies but once more.

A bat flew from the frosty shores of Northrend, flying past the blockade of Forsaken frigates, Northrend shrank smaller and smaller in the distance as a large black shape became visible in the distance.

The bat flew toward a massive ship. Larger then the average Orcish Juggernaut, and armed with far more fire-power if the sheer visible amount of canons was any evidence.

Huge groups of bat-riders flew out of the launch-bays, filling the skies with their number as they went to their targets.

The singular bat rider landed on the deck, dismounting and casually throwing the flight director who informed him he couldn't land their into the ocean. Several Forsaken stopped and rushed toward the action.

"MAN OVERBOARD!" cried one of the Forsaken sailors, throwing a life vest over board.

"Who in the Shadow's name do you--" the angry Bat-Rider who had witnessed the act began to protest, but he stopped, an unseen force crushing his throat.

"You would be wise not to question me, pilot." hissed the lone Rider, removing his fight-mask to expose his face.

The men instantly knelt,

"L--Lord Bellmont, we did not know, our apologies." several of them said, all afraid of punishment.

Bellmont rolled his eyes, marching forth into the bowels of the massive Forsaken ship.

As he reached the captains quarters he drew his sword and stabbed it into the wood, holding it why he knelt.

The red eyes of Lady Slyvanas crackled from the darkness as she moved her head into the light.

"I would assume you come baring news, Grand Executor. Tell me has my Grand Apothecary managed to get killed already?" inquired Queen Slyvanas,

"Unfortunetly, no, your highness. Though he was quite displeased with my addition. I come baring interesting news involving the Alliance." said Bellmont,

"Oh? Speak your news, Bellmont." proclaimed Queen Slyvanas, becoming more casual in tone.

"Their current leader, Bolvar Fordragon has been spotted in Northrend. I doubt highly they left their kingdom in the hands of a child." reported Bellmont,

"Hmm... interesting indeed. Either they have moved their full force to Northrend, or a new leader has been found... if your last reports on Stormwind where accurate, and giving your record they likely are, then I doubt it is just the child coming of age." proclaimed Queen Slyvanas,

"More troubling is they seem to be using the word... "King" more in their war-cries. This may be because the name of their little venture into these lands involves it. But I assume it might be something, much more." said Bellmont,

"Hmm... what do you imply, Bellmont?" inquired Queen Slyvanas,

"Perhaps their King has returned." said Bellmont,

"Perhaps... I shall send you to investigate. Until your return I shall dispatch Dark Rangers Marrah and Layna in your stead. I've left the Undercity to long under the command of Varimathras, and I would not pair those two up. I trust you still remember how to be an Infiltrator." proclaimed Queen Slyvanas,

"Of course, your Highness. The shadows come natural to me, weather I wield or move within them." said Bellmont,

"Very good then. You are dismissed, Grand Executor." proclaimed Queen Slyvanas,

Bellmont stood and bowed deeply, as he exited the Dark Lady let out one parting thought,

"Bellmont, dark storms are gathering. I can sense it on the winds. When the time comes, can I count on you?" inquired Queen Slyvanas,

"Naturally, your highness. I am sworn forever in your service when in times of peace or times and war, and I shall not fail you, nor the Forsaken." said Bellmont, bowing deeply once more.

"As I expected. Now, get to the task at hand, Grand Executor." proclaimed Queen Slyvanas, her voice returning to the condescending regal format.

Bellmont walked out toward the Imperial Zepelin, it was armored and far darker. Clearly Forsaken in design, only inspired by the Goblin's device.

He strode onto the airship and it took off.

Bellmont marched down to the command deck and sat down in the black throne, the same seat no doubt sat in by Queen Slyvanas.

"Destination, your Lordship?" inquired one of the Pilots.

"Land on the shores of Swamp of Sorrows. Dreadstalkers!" Bellmont ordered, calling two elite Death Stalkers to him.

They emerged from the shadows, covered in armor as black as night, lined with a bright golden color.

"Yes, your Lordship." hissed the Dreadstalkers in unison.

"Your jobs will be to find the whereabouts of the main armies of the Blacktooth Grin and the rest of the factions of the Dread Horde. If this news correct, then I have an offer their current Chieftain will be unable to refuse." said Bellmont, leaning his fingers on eachother as he sat in the throne.

"At once, your lordship." responded the two Dreadstalkers, once again in unison. They faded into the shadows, and soon two bats flew from the Forsaken Airship. Armored in ebony armor, with dark fur and blood red wing lining.

They soared down to the waters, and swooped up, zooming off into the blue.

"How many soldiers do we currently hold in this vessel?" inquired Bellmont to a passing Officer,

"Two platoons, your Lordship. All members of the Imperial Guard." reported the Forsaken Officer.

"Excellent, deploy one of them when we land. Have them make camp at the shores." ordered Bellmont.

"Understood, I will relay the Orders to the squad captains right now." said the Forsaken Officer, bowing deeply and rushing off toward the small barracks the airship contained.

Bellmont smiled, no more hiding underground waiting to ambush, no more Dwarven Sniper bullets flying past his skull or Sentinels leaping from the Shadows. Indeed he could get use to this, still, it would be most interesting to infiltrate the city once more.

Bellmont stood and walked to the window as he saw the smaller isles heralding the nearing of the lower parts of the Eastern Kingdoms.

He smiled,

"Well... well... let us see the state of our sister Kingdom. I'll be sure to record all I can for historical purpose. Nothing much will be left of it once we sever the head of the false King." said Bellmont with a sinister cackle.

The humidity of the swamp was hanging heavy in the air like a damp blanket. Bok’theg found it hard to breathe as he dismounted the wyvern and walked toward the inn. His meeting with Klaus Metalfist had gone well indeed. Better even than he could have hoped. Far from being upset with the recent battles in Desolace and Ferelas, they saw opportunity. By extension, they Bok’theg as an invaluable asset within the ranks of the Blacktooth Grin.

The warlock had repaired his ruined image within the clan, with a few notable exceptions, and he was slowly beginning to win the trust of the new Warchief. The machinations he had set in motion to remove Ashenrock from the leadership of the Grin may not have succeeded at the time, but he couldn’t help but think that his efforts hastened the druid’s decision to leave the clan. This all had pleased the Shadow Council and proved to them the usefulness of having a confederate within the ranks of the Blacktooth Grin.

As he stopped into his quarters in Stonard, Bok’theg mused on the most interesting of the messages Metalfist had passed onto him. Bellmont was returning from Northrend with news. He led an army of Sylvanas and doubtless it would behoove the Shadow Council to know of the information before the Warchief. Clearly, Bok’tehg would have to meet Bellmont before the Warchief did. He went to the kitchen to fix himself a snack as he waited for the Grand Executor’s inevitable arrival.

Hovering above the shore-line of the Swamp of Sorrows, the Imperial airship dropped two small ships from its iron hull, hitting the dark waters with a loud splash and moving toward the shore-line. As it docked with the swamp, the two platoon of Forsaken Imperial guardsmen rushed forth from the small landing ships, securing the area by slaughtering any hostile object in a 4 mile radius.

“Your caution is respectable, Captain, though I find it unneeded, I am not a Senator or Noble.” Said Bellmont as he marched out into the swamp, his two Forsaken battle-mage body-guards following closely.

“Of course, Lord Bellmont. Men! Return to camp. Secure the perimeter and remove any trees to allow the transport to land.” said the Forsaken Captain, letting out a sharp whistle and motioning for his soldiers to follow back.

“With me, now.” Ordered Bellmont, pointing a tad randomly at a squad of Guardsmen who’d just gotten off the boat.

“Oh course sir!” said their Sergeant, rallying his men and following behind Bellmont and his two guardians.

As the group arrived at the gates of Stonard, an Orcish guard growled.

“You! Betrayer!” hissed the Dread Horde Orc, reading his axe.
Bellmont motioned for his men to stand down at the Orc.

“Former sythegar Bellmont! You have no place! We request that you exit this place immediately! Or we will be forced to use hostile force!” hissed the Orcish Captain that appeared to be in charge of the place.

“Request denied, Greenskin.” Said Bellmont, calmly, he motioned for his men, who swiftly charged in.

The guards were little to no match for the Dark Lady’s finest, most of which veterans of nearly a century of warfare. They bashed the guards to the ground and disarmed, of their weapon or literally with the stubborn ones.

A head-strong young Troll rushed toward one of the Battle-mages, who casually griped the Troll with the power of the arcane, and threw him into the wall.

As a platoon of Orcs from the bunkers and outside charged in, Bellmont drove his runeblade into the ground. Ice began to freeze over the area where he had stabbed it in, turning the moistness in the ground into fresh, slick ice.

The charging Orcs and Trolls lost their footing, hitting the ice and skidding, knocking each other and scrambling to get back to their feet with little luck.

“If you might do the honors, Magus.” Said Bellmont, motioning to one of his body-guards,

“Gladly, sir.” Said the Battle-Mage, causing spikes to rip forth from the ice and encircle their attackers. They all froze, any movement possibly causing them to slide forward into the dagger-edged ice.

“Pathetic. It seems Yagyu leaves children to guard the capital of the Blacktooth Grin. Well, now that I have your undivided attention, perhaps one of you would like to tell me where Yagyu and the rest of the Grin are currently located.” Said Bellmont, as the rest of his guards rounded up the guards not imprisoned in ice.

“We will never tell you, we will sooner die then inform you. Return to the grave that spawned you—“ the Orc stopped, as Bellmont began to crush his throat with dark magic. Lifting him up in the air above the spikes.

“Gladly, but first I must bring you, to yours. That is in less you give me the very basic information as to where Yagyu is hiding. I mean no foul intentions.” Said Bellmont,

Through his pain the Orc managed to bring up his middle finger in anguish as he struggled for a gasp of breath while floating in the air.

“So be it.” Said Bellmont, releasing his grip and causing the Orc to nearly fall on the spikes. A battle-mage lifting him up seconds before he hit the spikes.

“Humph.. this is worthless. Disarm them and take them aboard if they refuse to talk. Perhaps an Inquisitor will loosen their lips.” Hissed Bellmont,

“Milord! That one is escaping!” cried one of the guardsmen, opening fire at the running Orc. But Bellmont drew his runeblade, blocking the bullet with his rune-blade and crushing the Riflemen’s throat. He spewed black blood and then fell to the ground, dead. His men exchanged confused glances, as he’d just killed one of his own to save this dread-horde member.

“If we kill one we may lose valuable information. Anyone who attempts to will be dealt with SWIFTLY by myself personally! Is this understood!” hissed Bellmont,

“Of course, milord. Apologies for our foolishness.” Said the Sergeant, bowing. The rounded up the Orcs, holding them at rifle-point as they marched them toward the Imperial Ship. Several guardsmen stayed as they secured the town.

“Raminus, return to the ship. Inform a new squad to march here immediately.” Ordered Bellmont to the Battle-Mage on his left, Raminus quickly nodding and teleporting back to the ship.

As occupying Imperial Guardsmen pulled all the merchants, off-duty guardsmen and others out they lined them up in front of him.

“It would seem I am doing you a favor. My men are far more capable of guarding this region then yours, if this is any evidence. Anyone who wishes to inform me of the presence of your Warchief and the main force of the Grin may step forth. You will be forced into the inn until further notice.” Said Bellmont, the Guardsmen shuffling the concerned townsfolk back into the inn.

Casually Bellmont made his way to the main hall and sat down in the Blacktooth Warchief’s throne, his men securing the area as he did so.

They would talk, eventually. No matter how loyal they where, these men where dogs, not soldiers. And without food, even the most loyal of animals will begin to do anything for food. It was only a matter of time before they broke, or the Inquisitors broke them. Such difficulty could be bypassed if they weren’t so ill trusting. Bellmont leaned his fingers against each other as he sat in the Warchief’s throne. Indeed, he could get use to this.

Meanwhile…

Two bats soared overhead Feralas, the two Dreadstalkers leapt from their mounts in mid-flight and into the underbrush of the ancient forest around the Camp Mojache. Slowly approaching and moving around the area, every detail carefully being taking down. Every movement, every image carefully documented. They moved around silently and waited, if the information was true, their Lord would be quite pleased with their discovery.

Vord watched the batriders flying low. They were Forsaken alright, elites too. It didn't take a genius to know who among the Forsaken would take an interest in where the Grin was or go to the "trouble" of tracking them down. With his new life mate having just left for Alterac, and increased Forsaken activity in Grin occupied lands, he knew it was now or never. He wrote a quick note to Urja and attached it to a messenger hawk, then turned and headed off on the long trek to Stonard.

The huge raven that soared over Stonard was hardly even noted by its Forsaken occupiers, short of a few unimportant comments and glances. The massive bird of prey circled the fortress-city for several minutes before flying off to Deadwind Pass.

It soared into the dead land, swooping below, the Carrion birds swiftly moving out of the way of the huge bird as it soared through the passes, eventually landing on the ground in front of a cloaked figure. The figure patted the animal as it let out a series of shrieks, which appeared to be understood by the cloaked figure, which patted the massive bird and gave him a large fish as a reward for his efforts.

“So, the rumors are true. The Nightbringer stumbles back to Stonard with his army. It would seem I’ve been absent for too long. We’ll pay him a visit.” Said the cloaked finger as he readied his bow and leapt from the mountain’s edge to mountain edge until he reached the beaten road below.

He ran out down the path and disappeared into the swamp, moving silently toward the Dread Horde’s stronghold in the region. The figure struggled up a broken tree, and overlooked the movements of the city’s occupiers.

“Two, five, seven.” He said to himself in a low tone as he carefully counted the number of Forsaken in the area.

He lined up his shot carefully, following around a potential target as he wandered through the murky courtyard.

He let go of the string and an arrow flew from it, soaring down to the target and piercing through the thick helmet he wore. The Forsaken fell to the ground dead, the darkened blood seeping into the ground.

Another soldier rushed up to see the cause, and several more arrows where released. These finding their mark in the back of this new soldier, and one through the back of the neck, the soldier hitting the ground and dying shortly thereafter.

The soldiers moved carefully now, looking around. Another arrow flew from the trees, catching another unfortunate occupier in the slits of his armor, ending his life swiftly.

“TAKE COVER! GET OUT OF THE OPEN!” cried one of the captains as the guardsmen struggled to find cover.

They ran into buildings, into bunkers, sprinting as more and more of them fell to the precision aim of the mysterious sniper. As the court-yard cleared the figure leapt from the trees and perched himself on the wall, leaping off from there into the murky courtyard. Reading an arrow as he walked.

“Most impressive, though foolish. You’ve thrown away your vantage.” Hissed Bellmont, appearing from the shadows behind the as he grabbed him by the cloak, tearing it off to reveal the blood elf Ranger, Sinderion.

“Oh not quite.” Replied Sinderion, as he leapt away, an explosive trap erupted around the Death Knight.

Bellmont stood glaring as the smoke cleared.

“It has been rather amusing to watch you fill my former spot. But it ends. Now.” Hissed Bellmont, as he slammed his blade into the ground. Ghouls crawling forth and rushing forward.

Sinderion drew two long blades, whirling around, and the razor-sharp blades cutting the ghouls to bits as he sliced at them. Within moments of their attack the ghouls lied mutilated on the ground; Sinderion twirled his blades and sheathed them.

“Enough, deal with him.” He hissed, his guards rushing out.

“Unable to deal with me yourself, ‘Grand Executor’?” asked

Sinderion as he rolled his eyes at the Forsaken soldiers.

“Perhaps you believe you are being treated unfairly?” inquired Bellmont in a mocking tone.

“Not at all. I brought my friends too.” Said Sinderion with a smirk.
Sinderion let forth a sharp whistle and the massive Raven, Talos, descended from the skies, picking up one Forsaken and throwing him into the swamp. The rest charged but stopped dead in their tracks as a massive wolf, lion and raptor all began to rip through their ranks as well.

Sinderion leapt up, firing numerous arrows at Bellmont, doing little good against the thick plate of the Death Knight. Bellmont laughed and attempted to strangulate Sinderion, who resisted the power and kicked the Forsaken in the face as he descended.

Landing he fired another several arrows seemingly into futility as he rushed up once again, locking his two blades with Bellmont’s runeblade. The two’s blades opposing magical forces caused the two fly backwards, Sinderion once again firing arrows that failed to go through the thick plate of Bellmont’s armor.

“Perhaps I have underestimated you.” Hissed Bellmont as he glared,

Sinderion made no conversation, instead rushing at Bellmont once again, rushing again and cutting at slits in the armor, Bellmont bashed the Elf in the head with the hilt of his runeblade and then whirled around on the ground with it, causing Sinderion to lose his footing and hit the ground.

Bellmont brought down his blade as if to impale Sinderion, but he rolled from it and attempted to sweep Bellmont to the ground with his legs, grunting in pain and in futility as it met the plate as it would a wall. He instead just let fourth another whistle, Talos swooping from its current target and smashing into Bellmont, knocking him over.

Sinderion rushed over, his pets forcing guardsmen out of his way as he made his way to the back of Stonard. Bellmont whistled for Bayne, mounting his horse and knocking by Sinderion’s various pets as he charged to the back.

Sinderion smiled as the horse reared as it starred down a ballista.
“That’s new.” Hissed Bellmont as it fired, knocking him clean off his mount and causing him to spiral, hitting the ground hard.

“Fall back to the camp.” He commanded, as the Forsaken wandered out. The Imperial guardsmen rallying around him as they backed out slowly, weary of ballista fire.

“We will require a sapper if we intend to defeat such firepower.” Said Bellmont as he marched with his men back to his camp.

Sinderion watched their retreat from the roof of Stonard’s town hall.

“They’ll be coming back in greater numbers.” He said to himself, as he made his preparations.

Bellmont reached the camp, more annoyed then injured.

“I was to understand that you already dealt with my would-be replacement, Raminus.” Hissed Bellmont, knocking over the undead mage with his horse.

“Apologizes, milord. But… there where complications. Either way there is more news. While you where away a messaged arrived for you from the Undercity. Apparently the Lich King has invaded once—“started Raminus,

“WHAT?!” exclaimed Bellmont,

“There has been a second, stronger plague released in all the major cities of Azeroth. The dead walk the streets and feast on the living. Queen Slyvanas has been called to a meeting with the rest of the leaders of the Horde and their lieutenants and advisors. Your presence is needed immediately at Orgrimmar.” Said Raminus,
“And you did not find this news urgent enough to find me, IMMEDIATELY?!” exclaimed Bellmont in annoyance, stepping back as the Mage began to create a portal to the Orcish capital.

Stepping through the warp Bellmont was in Orgrimmar in an instant. However, cries of panic and dread shrieked through the streets. As he walked upon the edge of the Valley he saw guards fighting off ghouls. The Argent Dawn representatives blasted the undead fiends with powerful bolts of holy magic, causing them to explode.
Bellmont smirked,

“Unable to wield the Holy Light my ass.” He muttered under his breath, seeing an undead healer of the dawn obliterate another ghoul.

He rode down to Grommash Hold, several elite Dread Guards nodding to him outside. The royal guardians of all the leaders present outside.

Bellmont dismounted Bayne and marched into the center where the meeting was already in place.

“Ah, Grand Executor Bellmont, it is good that you where able to make it. You’ve not missed much.” Said Thrall nodding at Bellmont,
Bellmont bowed, feigning his respect and then took a seat next to the Nathanos Blightcaller. On his right was Grand Apothecary Putress, and next to him the Dark Lady herself. The leaders and their more trusted sat in small, isolated sections, each speaking on behalf of their race. With the exception of Thrall who sat isolated in his throne. Saurfang took the place of the leaders for the Orcs.

“The disease only seems to grow worse and worse by the second, Warchief. In Thunderbluff we have stopped the use of the elevators though it has started to be carried in by visitors coming via Wyvern and portal. I request a quarantine for all the cities of the Horde until this can be resolved.” Said Carine Bloodhoof,

“That will only keep us isolated and more open to attack. Though this could have been used earlier, with the necropolis looming overhead we cannot halt the movement of refugees and reinforcements. If we did the consequences could be disastrous.” Said Lor’themar Theron,

“’Da flying fortresses of ‘da Scourge has been seen from Org’remar to Tanaris. Da be all over both of da kingdoms, and even some reports of dem poking into da Outlands.” Said Vol’Jin,

“The Argent Dawn is currently battling the Northern threat. We should band together with them and stand together. We’ll be able to defeat them unified.” Said High Warlord Saurfang,

“Indeed, I have combined my soldiers with the Argent Dawn on Kalimdor. I would suggest you do the same with your men. Yet this does little to combat the plague, which is ravaging the home-front and making it impossible to keep the populace stable.” Said Nathanos Blightcaller,

“The strain is becoming more resistant to usual methods of removal, and the Argent Healers are becoming so overwhelmed we need a permanent solution.” Said Archdruid Runetotem,

“If I may be so bold, but leave the plague, to us. I assure you it is being handled.” Said Queen Slyvanas,

“Are you to say we should continue in this pointless struggle under the hope that you possibly might find the answer to this current problem?” hissed Carine Bloodhoof,

“What is the matter, Tauren? You wouldn’t distrust us now would you?” inquired Grand Apothecary Putress, his voice underlining the obvious.

“The Sin’Dori is willing to accept this. If the Forsaken are willing to dispatch field Apothecaries then we will gladly do the same with our Blood Knights. Together we can crush this threat.” Said Grand Magister Rommath,

“Our soldiers are unable to be effected, deeply, by the plague. We’re the most experienced at fighting this menace, and have been preparing for years to fight them. If you trust us or not is pointless, the fact of the matter is that our nation has the most experience battling this particular enemy. If it where the Legion, I would trust the Orcs, if it where the Centaur I’d trust the Taurens and if it where the old ones I’d trust the trolls. This is a matter of facts.” said Grand Executor Bellmont,

Several of the council members nodded, but others held their icy glare, including Putress.

“An interesting point, Grand Executor. Your people have been enslaved by this menace, and have had a burning thirst for revenge. I don’t think it takes expert knowledge to know how to kill these fiends; we’ve been well versed in how to combat them since the battle of mount Hyjal. However, your point is well made. I’d not want your people’s revenge to be hindered by me.” Proclaimed Warchief Thrall,

“Warchief, you cannot trust these-“started Archdruid Runetotem, but Thrall quickly cut him off,

“My people caused their own damnation, deceived though we may have been. Only through much time did we gain redemption. These, undead did not. Their fate was chosen for them without a single voice to be able to protest. I’ll not hinder their revenge, or question their priority for it.” Proclaimed Warchief Thrall,

“I thank you, Warchief. I can assure you that we will not fail the Horde.” said Queen Slyvanas,

“I have no doubt that you will, Dark Lady. However, if you could inform us of your plan of attack.” Inquired Warchief Thrall,
“Naturally.” Said Queen Slyvanas, gesturing to the three Grand Overseers near her,

“With the 1st Lordaeron Guard we will join forces with the Argent Dawn and Blood Elven militaries, and attempt to battle the Scourge in upper Lordaeron. Southern Lordaeron we shall leave to the third-parties and hopefully, the Alliance will be able to fend for them.” Said Grand Champion Nathanos Blightcaller,

“With the Royal Apothecary Society, I shall venture to Shattrath city in Outland. The shattered world contains many rare ingredients that may do wonders for combating this. Also, many appear to be fleeing there for safety, making it ideal to find volunteers to aid in our research.” Said Grand Apothecary Putress,

“I will return to Northrend to mount an offensive on the Lich King that will hopefully cause him to draw back his troops. The Alliance has already withdrawn most of their troops so I doubt they’ll be much of a problem. The basis for our attack is already built.” Said Bellmont,

“We’ll be coming with. I’m not letting these Forsaken have all the fun. We’ll begin to expand our sets up on the opposite sides of Northrend. We’ll hit the bastard from both ends.” Said Garroash Hellscream, his remarks met with mild cheers of acceptance,

“Very well then. The shadow of Northrend has descended upon us, and we will need to stand together to push it back. Return to your kingdoms and be ready, I fear these events may just be the calm before the storm.” Said Warchief Thrall,

All the members saluted and quickly exited. The Forsaken all rounded up and began to make a portal back to the Undercity; Bellmont stepped through it with the others out of Orgrimmar and into his beloved capital of Lordaeron.