Bellmont’s dark cloak swept the wooden floor of the massive Forsaken dreadnought, The Executioner. So many battles, so many lies and people slain to get to this point. But now the fruits of his labor where made manifest, made all the sweeter by the unexpected betrayal of Darion Morgraine.
He continued down the halls until he eventually reached the royal chamber. Kneeling before the empty thrown. Carefully he light the fires of the torches near the throne, the red flame swiftly turning an unnatural purple and blue color seconds after igniting.
Upon hearing a familiar wail he stood to address the ghostly figure that materialized in the throne.
“Ah, the Nightbringer, it has been to long since we last spoke. Tell me, you bring good words, yes?” inquired Sharlindra the Banshee.
“Naturally. The acts we have set in motion have already ended. With greater success then we could have ever foreseen.” Informed Bellmont the Nightbringer.
“Interesting. Might you explain further?” asked Sharlindra the Banshee, intrigued by the news.
“Naturally. The plan to pit the Scourge against the Scarlet Crusade and summon Arthas to Azeroth worked perfectly. The Scarlet Crusade is all but evaporated. Those who still wander about on Azeroth are little more than demoralized survivors, with little leadership or organization. We will hunt them down like they rabid animals they are. The majority of their operations have moved to Northrend, under the title of the Scarlet Onslaught.” Informed Bellmont the Nightbringer.
“Interesting. But what of the Death Knights and the false King? If he still roams we will need to inform the Royal Apothecary Society immediately.” Said Sharlindra the Banshee.
“On that note I hold more grim news. The Lich King has fled from Azeroth. However he has fled because the Death Knights under the leadership have rallied against them. They all turned against them in a rather impressive assault on Light’s Hope Chapel. It would seem even the fabled Ashbringer has been purified. It would seem the tides have turned against the Lich King quite strongly.” said Bellmont the Nightbringer.
“Most excellent! Have you attempted to persuade them to join the Forsaken?” inquired Sharlindra the Banshee, excited by the news.
“No. They remain independent from the Horde and the Alliance, though many of their members also have put stock in allegiance to either the Horde or the Alliance, generally depending on race. Though I think we had a leper gnome join us. They are to aid Tirion Fordring, the new wielder of the Ashbringer, with his Crusade to defeat Arthas.” Said Bellmont the Nightbringer.
Sharlindra the banshee cackled in glee at the news.
“Our Queen will be most pleased by the news of these turns of events.” Said Sharlindra the banshee, floating about the room in a pleased manner.
“What am I now to do with these operations successful?” inquired Bellmont the Nightbringer.
“Ah, our Queen has left that to your decision. Your assistance could be used on the front, but she doubts you have honed your new abilities enough to truly be of assistance in Northrend. I’d suggest tying up some loose ends in Outland, or using your older methods, sir.” Suggested Sharlindra the banshee.
“I see. I will consider these options. Who is currently in charge of the Hand of Vengeance in Northrend?” inquired Bellmont.
“I am unsure. High Executor Anselm has been control of our operations at the landing. We have a numerous amount of soldiers; the majority of our military power in Northrend currently lies within that area. We have sent Apothecaries, Priests and Shadowstalkers to aid the rest of the Horde in their operations. As to how either side goes in the expedition, I cannot say. Simply because it escapes my realm of knowledge.” Explained Sharlindra the banshee.
“I see. I will weigh my options and speak to the Queen next time I am in Lordaeron. May she reign supreme.” Said Bellmont the Nightbringer with a bow.
Sharlindra returned the gesture with a ghostly curtsy before disappearing and flying off to the Undercity.
Bellmont smiled as he brought up his wood and walked to the bow of The Executor. The cold wind blowing sharply in his face. Indeed he had much to think about now. Foremost however would be the drawing of the Dread Horde into the service of the Dark Lady once more. But first, there was the matter of mastering these black arts…
Meanwhile…
“OPENFIRE!” cried the Horde Caption, the various marksmen opening fire on the gargoyles that swooped down on their position.
Sinderion let fly two arrows, both finding their mark in the skulls of two of the winged beasts within the dark cloud the small swarm of gargoyles made up. Though they dropped from the sky at a feverous rate, it did little to stop their overall number.
One by one the marksmen where swooped up by the charging gargoyles and thrown at Warsong Fortress. Sinderion struggled in the talons of the gargoyle, drawing a long sword he drove it through the leg of the beast as it tried to throw him into the strong walls of the Horde’s citadel.
The creature screamed and shook its leg violently, driving the blade down further. Sinderion pulled his other long sword and drove it into the creatures back, climbing up on it and removing the other from its leg.
Hanging on by its mane, he stabbed at the creature violently as it whirled around, attempting to throw its unwelcomed rider. Sinderion then let forth a very sharp whistle and pulled both his blade from the creatures dark flesh. Severing the wings of the unholy monster with one swift action.
Sinderion then leapt from the doomed gargoyle onto another one, severing the beast's head. As the headless gargoyle fell he leapt on yet another nearby. Taking a handful of arrows from his quiver and jamming it through the beast’s skull.
Covered in the dark purple blood of these creatures Sinderion leapt into the sky, a huge raven swooping down and gripping his hand. With some difficulty gliding down, and letting go of Sinderion as he came close enough to survive the fall.
Sinderion rolled as he fell, hitting the ground like a tire. After several rolls he stood up, somewhat dizzy. Shaking it off he whistled again and glared at his companion, Talos.
“Next time don’t fly toward a hill.” Said Sinderion, playfully smacking the bird in the beak.
Sinderion cracked his neck and turned around, a small entourage of Horde soldiers staring at him.
“You alright?” inquired an Orc.
“Fine, fine. Where am I right now in relation to Warsong Hold?” asked Sinderion, looking around.
“You’re near the beach-head sir.” said the Orc in response.
“Great… well, I flew higher then I intended. What is the purpose of this establishment?” inquired Sinderion, picking up arrows that had fallen from his quiver as he tumbled.
“This is a siege camp.” Explained the Orc, gesturing to the two Horde Siege-tanks and Demolishers nearby.
Sinderion’s eyes lit up with the same joy a young boy does when given a puppy.
“Armored Calvary you say?” inquired Sinderion with a wide, blacktooth grin.
To be continued…