Post by Hellborne
((Introducing Page Seven: A Chance Meeting. If you missed it, here is
Page Six. A lot is happening in this page so read on! And happy new years to all, and a great year for Light's Eclipse!))
“I am sorry my lady for this brutal behavior on my part. We can not let them know we are here,” The voice that held me whispered. It sounded so familiar.
“Cazar?” I asked.
“Yes, milady,” Cazar replied, and let me go. I turned to face him. The cellar was too dark to see much, and quite damp. “The servants are all here. Baithos, Kaellious, Zeser, everyone. We are hiding from them,” He continued.
“Who is ‘them’?” I asked. I could hear Cazar shuffle on his feet, and several people coughing. Indeed, it sounded like all the families servants were here.
“The vile undead,” A crackled, hag like voice spoke up from the rest of the servants. A woman’s voice.
“Sor’Nel?” I asked, curious.
“Yes my child, it is I,” She replied.
I turned back to Cazar, my favorite. “What about mommy? She is still up there!” I exclaimed. Cazar quickly covered my mouth again with his large hand.
“Shush, milady. It will be alright,” Cazar insisted.
Upstairs, I heard more yelling. I grew worried for mommy. Hopefully this will be all over soon... ...
“I am sorry I will not be able to stay for long, but I have business up north. I hope everything is in order for you, Lord Lightheart,” Ash explained to Daellin.
“All is well Ash, you may go now,” Daellin waved his newly formed ally. As the red haired Scarlet left Daellin’s small and cramped room, the elder Lightheart turned to his bed. On it still laid all of his possessions he had yet put away. Remaining on the bed was his new chain mail and plate Scarlet uniform, Light’s Breach, and the Scarlet cloak that he had kept since his original departure from the Crusade. However tattered and fringed, the regal dark red and yellow embroidered still did its purpose.
Tap tap. A knock on the wooden door. Daellin took a deep sigh and paced to the door. “Yes?” The paladin asked without opening the door.
“Lord Daellin Lightheart, you are requested to attend a meeting with Maveryn and Quinn in the observatory,” The messenger replied in a rushed manner.
Daellin nodded his head to himself, “Tell them I will be there in a moment,” He answered. He did not hear a response, rather the sound of a fast pace walk outside his door and walked back to his bed. He briefly looked around his room. A single dresser was filled with spare clothes, a dirty stained window that once represented an angel singing to the light let in the only light from outside, and finally his bed.
“Kinda like my room in Tyr’s Hand,” He muttered to himself as he pulled on the Scarlet tabard. Finally he put Light’s Breach in its sheathe and was on his way to this meeting. He paced himself up the spiraling stair case that twirled around. For being at his new post for the short time he was, he knew exactly where the observatory was located. On the top of the tower, where no roof sheltered it.
He arrived in the observatory. Above him a starry night enveloped everything in Lordaeron. A large telescope was pointed towards the infinite black sky, and a wooden table was laid out with several chairs a round it. Several lanterns were lit around the table and hung from the stone blocks of the tower. At one end of the table was Maveryn, Daellin’s escort to the Crusader’s outpost earlier and at the other end a much younger woman whose name was Quinn. Daellin only met the young woman once, and from what he could remember she was quite the shy one.
“Come, sit Daellin,” Beckoned Maveryn who pointed to an empty chair in the middle of the table. Daellin obeyed and sat on the wooden chair. It creaked as if it would fall under the weight of the old paladin.
“We are here to discuss a large offensive,” Maveryn continued, “The filthy Forsaken have settled in this forest, and it is our belief that they must be uprooted, like a tree in a hurricane,” He explained. Daellin nodded his head understanding everything so far.
“These vile beasts have staged several attacks on the remaining living in Lordaeron, notably the remnants of the city state of Dalaran. They also pose a threat to the Monastery. If the Monastery fell, the Crusade would have dealt a blow to its goal.” Quinn added her words. Daellin took a quick look at the young woman. Short black hair that covered her left eye, beady black eyes, skin as pale as a polar bear, short in height, no taller than five feet, and the most terrifying slight smile. It never went away. It creeped Daellin out.
“Sounds like this offensive shall be grand,” Daellin said. Maveryn nodded his head in agreement.
“The largest yet. The Forsaken’s largest occupation is a place known as the “Sepulcher.” Fitting, seeing as how they will all end up back in a grave anyways,” Maveryn explained. “And you, my dear friend, shall lead the attack,” He said to Daellin.
About time. Daellin thought to himself. “When do we head out?” He asked.
“Now,” Quinn responded.
...
“So you remember that scout you sent out? Loag?” Namine asked Victor. She was in his personal quarters. It had very little decoration and furniture. Another of Victor’s high chairs, about the size of an ogre, a coffin, a long and low chemistry table, and several pictures of scantily clad women of several races. Every time Namine walked in Victor’s room, the pictures always got on her nerves. Several times she demanded that he take them down, but he always denied.
Victor remained sitting in his high chair. “Victor? Victor!” Namine repeated his name several times, each time louder.
A rather loud snore came from Victor and signs of movement could be seen in the darkness. “What was that? What?” Victor asked sleepily.
“The scout Loag you sent a few days back?” Namine asked once more.
“Who? Oh what the hell sure I knew him,” Victor lied. He jumped from his chair and landed in front of Namine.
“Well he is dead. We found a note on him saying something along the lines of Scarlet movements and mobilization,” Namine explained.
“Sounds bad, I guess. Well, prepare the armies of the great and all powerful Banshee Queen to go out and kill the living!” Victor demanded sarcastically as he paced over to his chemistry table and played around some beakers.
“You are not in the Plaguelands anymore, Victor! We have no more than one hundred able bodied men to fight! We can’t send them off, we would be defenseless!” Namine screeched.
Victor seemed to not listen. He did not respond and only played with chemicals. “Then let them come to us. I am sure the grace of the Banshee Queen will let us survive,” Victor said monotonously. Namine walked to Victor and stood behind him. She wrapped her arms around Victor’s waist.
“Stop playing with chemicals Victor, leave that to the smart people in Undercity,” She whispered into Victor’s ear.
...
“...then the gnome goes, “What chicken?”“ Tefri bursted into a heavy fit of laughter.
They were surrounded by complete and utter darkness due to it being late in the night. They decided to get to their destination fast enough they would have to travel as long as they could. Obviously Kreel needed several breaks now and then.
Quinton and Kreel were obviously not pleased by the poor joke, and continued to walk on the stone path without saying a word. If anything, Quinton and Kreel wanted to shut the dwarf’s mouth up. At any moment now their position would be given away by a stray worgan, or a Forsaken.
“Please, shut up,” Krell asked politely, pausing after every word. “You will give us away,” She added to sound more professional.
“Ah, 'ight,” Tefri muttered as she settled down.
If I die because of these two, I swear to all that is holy I am going to come back as a Forsaken and kill them! Quinton roared inside his head as he clenched his fists.
They had been walking for days now. Since they realized they were in Silverpine and not the Plaguelands, they were in total paranoia due to the long route and the Forsaken nearby. Kreel in particular was always looking around her, shooting glances at everything.
Suddenly, Quinton placed his hand beside his head to stop walking. He looked around. Tefri and Kreel looked confused and puzzled. He hushed the two, and began running at top speed into the forest. The two ladies did their best to follow. They dodged trees and brush at top speed.
And as soon as Quinton started running, he stopped. They were now on a high ledge.
“Look,” Quinton told the other two as he pointed downwards.
Below them, a medium sized platoon of Scarlets, no less than seventy five, marched down a dirt path in the forest. They all marched in unison, and followed three particular high ranking Crusaders.
“What could they be doing this far out?” Kreel asked in wonder. Tefri snapped her fingers.
The lady dwarf pointed out a ways, “Because of that,” She pointed to a small Forsaken outpost, known as the Sepulcher.
