Fall of Zaldrannar Pt. 4
Rethandus slowly opened his eyes once the searing heat subsided, lowering his arms to look around; most of the corpses they stood on were turned to smouldering skeletons, filling the chamber with black smoke and ashes. The several Death Knights that were standing around him were gone, instantly vaporized by Zerethel’s spellflame. Yet here he was, still standing.
“What…?” Rethandus looked down to see Whitstan clutching his broken hand around the Harbinger’s leg, as the faint anti-magic zone quickly evanesced. “You saved me…? Why…?” He couldn’t make any sense of it. The billowing flames that swept across the pit was far too much for him to handle, and he accepted his death to return to Zion’s arms; yet here he was, saved by the very man who took everything away from him. The same man he spared mere minutes before.
“I don’t know why… asshole. Why didn’t… you… kill me? Because… we’re all fucked up in the head.” he said as he rolled onto his back and started laughing. Rethandus clenched his jaw in reaction to the man as the unholy energies Vesk provided were still clicking his bones painlessly back into place.
“I couldn’t do it.” he admitted, raising his gaze to the Val’kyr as she slowly descended through the smoke. “I’ve wanted you dead for so long… but I just… couldn’t bring myself to end it.” His scowl worsened as he rubbed his temple, trying to make sense of it all; but the distant screams caused his ears to perk, and instantly he knew he was out of time. “It’s because…” Whitstan sounded out “We’re addicted to the pain.” he said with a crooked smile. “Vesk… restore his strength.” the other spoke.
“Are you sure you want that…?” The ghostly woman looked down at Whitstan as her glowing feet gently touched the ‘floor’ they stood on. “He is the enemy, Rethandus…”
“He saved my life. Once he is healed, we are even.” He shot his icy gauntlet out, pulling his remaining runesword out of the smoke to snap into his grasp; his other hand reached out as well, stirring a Death Gate to appear before him. “I have to stop Zerethel from purging Zaldrannar of the living. Alucieus, Covaya, Tyrasam… they’re all in grave danger.”
“As you wish...” Vesk’s sprawling wings stretched out as she floating back up into the sky, drawing upon the innumerable corpses surrounding them and sapping them of their dormant energy. Rethandus vanished through the other side of his Death Gate once the Val’kyr bombarded Whitstan with a flood of raw unholy energy, pumping him with enough power to awaken an undead army.
Bones continued to snap in place as seared flesh was born anew. The blood runes engraved into his arms lit up a bright red as he reached for his sword, replacing it on his back. The unholy runes from his sword began to flash up as well. Both his arms were now functional although his left were littered with blackened veins visible from underneath the new, tender flesh. His strength was renewed but the Val’kyr seemed to care little for healing cosmetic damages. He paused a moment staring at the Val’kyr. “You said I was the enemy.”, his eyes were a bright swirling blue again. “Who is the enemy now? And why do you follow who you do if you’re not with those other Death Knights and the Mage? Is there a right or wrong to all this?”
“Councilor Kash’kaar is the enemy now. Should he succeed, he will turn his attention to Quel’thalas, perhaps reawakening a second Scourge Invasion.” Vesk spoke with indifference, humoring the freshly forged Death Knight as she floated silently in the air. “I am duty bound to follow the one who controls Zaldrannar: The Black Judge. Today it is Lord Sun’rael of the Ashen Verdict, but should Zerethel slay him… I will be forced to do his bidding.”
He paused at the entity’s answer. Contemplating it. He nodded. “And he wants to kill the living. Very well. I will help. Take me to Zerethel.” The Val’kyr pressed her lips together once she drifted toward Whitstan, plucking him off the ground as she quickly rose into the air above. A dark shell appeared around the former Breaker as she released him, letting him float effortlessly in the air while portal magic reverberated around his body. “Good luck, Wilhelm.” she softly whispered, teleporting him into the upper reaches of the accursed necropolis.
The voice in Zerethel’s head was screaming. Blood oozed out of his nose, mouth and eyes as he stormed down the hallway, tossing precaution aside to sear the flesh off Alucieus’ bones. THE TIME HAS COME TO TAKE WHAT IS OURS! KILL HIM! KILL HIM! KILL HIM! “Ahh, Councilor Kash’kaar… is something wrong?” A Sunwalker turned to give him a warm smile, but the fury in Zerethel’s eyes prevented his smile from staying for long. The Pyromancer responded with fire, slamming the tauren against the wall as his pyroblast turned his armor into a melted husk of twisted metal and blackened bones. “The screams of the living will echo in these halls for all eternity! Do not relent until every crusader aboard my city is dead! DEAD!”
His Blackguard caught the Ashen Verdict by surprise, descending upon occupied rooms and recreational chambers to bathe the floors and walls with blood. Their vanquished cries drew the attention of others, allowing them to gear up to defend themselves before the Blackguard swept through the upper reaches unchallenged. Death Knights still loyal to the Ashen Verdict reacted accordingly, fending off the several undead yeti that were released from their cages; but the swarm of undead forces were quickly overpowering them, and it wasn’t long until they were breaching the living quarters, ready to cleanse Zaldrannar of any who opposed the Councilor.
“The Councilor is sick. He needs to be restrained to his chambers until we can figure out what to do with him.” Gonthar paused to shoot a weary glance in Tyrasam’s direction, before returning his gaze to Alucieus. “Lord Sun’rael… for a pyromancer of his caliber to hallucinate… that would bring nothing but bad news…”
“Captain Gonthar… you are right.” Alucieus sighed as he ran plated fingers through his hair, stopping to cradle his head. He looked to the towering Tauren Paladin, “This is too much of a liability. I was hoping his health would improve but I cannot allow this-”
“Let me go talk to him.” She kept her arms crossed as her gaze fell to the floor. “Maybe I can convince him to stay in his quarters? We still don’t know what’s wrong wi-” Her sentence was cut short from a thunderous smash against the ironclad doors of the throne room. The three paladins turned to look as something slammed into the door again, causing Tyrasam to jump. “W-what is going on?”
“Tyrasam… go find Lady Sun’rael and find shelter.” The Tauren shot a stern glance at Alucieus, pausing only to reach for his colossal claymore. His ears flapped against his head as he picked up the familiar sounds of Zaldrannar’s undead, hearing the faint roars of an undead yeti several floors beneath his hooves. Alucieus’ upper lip twitched and curled as his usually stoic expression was replaced by one of rage. “Gonthar, prepare yourself.” he said as he laid his blessings on the Tauren for combat. His right arm reached for his sword as his left lifted up and conjured an enormous spear of Light floating above his hand, pointed at the door. He drew back, waiting for the doors to collapse. The Crusaders guarding the door slowly retreated away, drawing their weapons as they turned to see Lord Sun’rael preparing to devastate the undead forces.
“DEATH TO THE SUN’RAELS! DEATH TO THE LIVING!” An undead roared as the doors were ripped off their hinges, flooding into the room in a swarm of undead fury. Without hesitation Lord Sun’rael let loose his spear of light, flinging it into the mob with startling speed; it violently erupted in a shower of holy fire and bodyparts, traveling through the darkened hallway until it buried itself in the wall several hundred yards away.
“To arms, crusaders!” Gonthar rolled his shoulders once his cloak fell to the floor, grinding his hooves against the ground several times before charging forward. “Cut down the traitors and burn their bodies. They deserve no mercy. Protect the living and be wary of the undead knights that still fight on our side.” Alucieus commanded as he followed behind the Tauren’s charge with crusaders that fell into ranks around him. Golden wings sprouted from the Sunwalker’s back once he began to drag his claymore along the ground. He let out a battlecry as he used all of his might and momentum to slash the sword before him, slicing through several mindless undead in a fiery sweep. His hulking fist connected with another foe, instantly crushing its skull as he slammed against the wave of undead. His hoof found the legs of a flailing corpse as he moved forward, crushing it into the floor while he attempted to overpower their forces by himself; but there were too many to count.
Claws and fangs sank into his back and shoulders as they swarmed around Gonthar, forcing him to cry out in a painful rage. He raised his fiery claymore high into the air, summoning an explosion of holy light around him that washed over his attackers in a burning blaze. Although he knew Lord Sun’rael was more than capable of fending for himself, especially being so familiar with fighting the undead, he wanted to lighten his load as much as possible; should he die here, his death would demoralize the crusaders defending Zaldrannar from this uprising, and the necropolis would surely be lost.
“Gonthar, save your energy. Let our crusaders take them. We have larger problems. If the Blackguard have risen against us, I think you know the implications.” he said as he infused Gonthar with a healing light with his free hand. The fortress rattled as dust stirred from the different levels onto them. Explosions were taking place. The last thing he needed to hear to confirm who was behind it all. The one man he chose to stand as his right hand. He kept Zerethel close for a reason.
“If they breach through the Throne Room your wife will be in danger!” Gonthar caught an Abomination’s hook before it buried itself in his shoulder, sending a holy hammer flying off into the creature’s direction. “You must survive, Lord Sun’rael! Go! I will cover you!”
The Paladin shot the Sunwalker a stern glare. “... Covaya will undoubtedly handle any stragglers as Tyrasam protects our child… Very well. Hold this position. I will move forward and ensure you don’t get flanked as I carve a path. Light protect you, Gonthar.” he replied putting his enclosed fist to his chest. Reinforcements appeared from opposing doors to aid in defending the Throne Room, giving the Sunwalker enough time to turn and pound his chest at his commander. “I will see you on the other side.”
Zerethel could barely breathe as rage coursed through his veins. “Wait… wait! Councilor plea-” another crusader erupted in a ball of fire while their corpse was flung off the edge of Zaldrannar to fall into the sea below. It was too late to stop now, for the screams of the dying would no doubt reach Lord Sun’rael. Every bone in his body ached from his damp wheezing, coughing up blood to spill onto the floor before him. His Blackguard escorting him remained silent, stabbing anything they could reach their master made his way toward the Throne Room.
KILL HIM! KILL HIM! KILL HIM! Zerethel’s voice rang in his ears, but he could no longer hear him; only through his bloodshot gaze did he see crusader after crusader, desperately trying to survive his forces’ onslaught. Through crimson teeth he snarled, raising an open palm to let forth another blast of metal-melting flames. As a paladin crawled down the hall, whimpering in agony as his legs were seared straight to the bone, the Pyromancer turned the corner to gaze hatefully down at him. “Weak and frail.” he hissed, as his Blackguard skewered the elf while he let out a terrified screech. His burning gaze slowly rose from the floor once a familiar figure appeared at the other end of the hallway, causing his blood to run cold.
Alucieus forcibly removed his sword from the hip of a Blackguard he had cleaved in half from the shoulder before parrying a flanking strike from another. He grabbed at the other Death Knight’s face with his free hand as light exploded from every orifice in his head resulting in an agonized scream and smoke lingering from its body as it collapsed. He turned to face Pyromancer, narrowing his eyes as he looked over the cripple. He was a bloody mess and clearly too far gone. “I’m disappointed, Zerethel. I never actually thought it’d come to this. How could I missed the signs? The Blackguard, the experiments, what you put Taleyriel through, all of it. I defended you.”
“A means to an end.” A cruel grin spread across Zerethel’s bloodstained lips, but he could not hide the agony in his voice; his lack of blood turned his skin a ghostly pale, and he was shaking far more than he should. “You sat idle on your throne, wasting the gift Mograine gave you… but I will put Zaldrannar to better use.” KILL HIM! KILL HIM! KILL HIM! Flames danced along his fingers while he staggered forward several feet, but at this point he could only see through one of his eyes. “You and the rest of your Verdict will be the first to die. Starfall will be next.”
“Look at what you’ve become… Zerethel…” he said with a modicum of pity in his voice. He shook the blood off of his blade, “I’ll put you to rest, old friend. I hope Tyrasam and Jaeras will forgive me.” Holy light visibly fluctuated from his blade, distorting perception around it as it began singing in a sharp, high pitch of metal vibrating. His gaze locked onto the Mage’s crazed visage. His grin spread from ear to ear as a few of his crimson teeth cracked and shattered under the pressure of his clenched jaw. The flames in his hand turned blue, and the Pyromancer slowly raised his open palm to destroy Lord Sun’rael once and for all.
“Die.” he whispered, sending an explosion of flames to barrel down the hallway; the windows along the path shattered from the sonic boom, spilling flames out of Zaldrannar’s side as he attempted to prevent anyone from even recognizing Alucieus’ remains. The Paladin kept the sword down to his side as his free hand felt immense strain and pressure to keep his Divine Shield conjured before him. The bright flames all around him grew in intensity every second. There was no relent to Zerethel’s channeled assault. Heavy step by burning step, he moved close to the Mage. He could not see the stone walls around him glowing bright red but he felt his own armor heat up and start to singe at his skin. He pushed forward, knowing that one more step, another step and he would be able to end this all. He leaned all his weight to move forward yet he couldn’t see through the wall of blinding flame that turned white. His shield of Light began to crumble and he grew desperate, unable to see where his opponent was. Images of Covaya, and his children to include Taleyriel. Even Areus and that damned Ashelin were there.
Zerethel cackled madly as he poured all of his body and soul into the channeled fury, convinced no living being could survive such an ordeal; but he felt it necessary to get his message across. His single remaining eye flickered while he became deafened by his own roaring flames, assured Zaldrannar was finally his for the taking. His devilish grin quickly vanished once something in the corner of his eye caught his attention, filling his forearm with intense pain as his flames immediately died out. The Councilor screamed as he noticed the bloodied stump that was his last arm, and the greatsword now buried into the melted wall beside him. “I-Impossible…?!” Zerethel collapsed to his knees with a heavy thud, letting his gaze fall upon the smouldering shield of Lord Sun’rael before shooting a glance toward the Death Knight in the distance. “I k-killed you… I killed you…!”
“What is it you told me? Pain is an excellent teacher? Well, I hope you learned something today.” Whitstan spoke with a sinister smile as his spiraling blue eyes looked down on the Pyromancer and then glanced to the Paladin. Alucieus stared at Whitstan for the longest moment, trying to make sense of everything. He shifted his focus back to the Mage. “I’ll let you reap whatever it is you were sowing here. I have people to protect.” A nod to the Death Knight and another pitied look to the Mage was all he had to offer his friend before he turned to walk back down the path he came.
“You…. dare turn your BACK ON ME?!” Zerethel lurched forward as he wheezed, spilling a lot of blood onto his severed hand.
“Don’t do it…” Whitstan echoed. “I don’t want to kill you…”
“I am the strongest pyromancer this pathetic world has ever seen! And I WILL TAKE WHAT IS MINE!” Zerethel turned to glare at Alucieus’ back before he opened his mouth as wide as he could, causing the back of his throat to glow a sinister orange. Whitstan sighed as he narrowed his eyes as he walked over to the oldest and closest friend that he didn’t remember. He placed a hand on his shoulder as his left arm and Zerethel became encased in an anti-magic shell swirling with unholy runes and magic. Molten flame dripped from his mouth before shooting out violently in the Paladin’s direction. The shell would keep his magic spiralling inside his newly formed coffin.
He was too blinded by rage to even notice Whitstan’s approach, unleashing his furious dragon’s breath to sear the flesh off Alucieus’ bones; but the anti-magic shell propelled the flames away from his target, bouncing back onto the Pyromancer. His eyes widened in agony as his flames swirled around him, tearing through his flesh with ease; but he could not stop his spell as it was far too late. KILL HIM! KILL… HIM!.. kill… His body burned in a spectacle of white flame, scorching his bones black as the last of his dying screams echoed down the halls of Zaldrannar.
Whitstan’s blood runes on his blackened arm glowed while it constantly burned and regenerated simultaneously over and over again holding the mage inside his own spell. He let out a sigh of discontent as he released the remains of the mage. He watched as his arm slowly regenerated, his veins still singed and painted black by the flames of his fallen brother. He stared down at what was left of the Pyromancer and couldn’t help but feel a great guilt weighing at his chest. The fighting seemed to settle and the halls grew quiet as the necropolis began to list toward the ground, flames remained ignited across the structure.
“Zereth?!” Tyrasam covered her mouth as she looked around, locking her gaze on the smouldering skeleton at Whitstan’s feet. “ZERETHEL!” Her blood ran cold as she ran to her husband’s remains, stopping only once Gonthar reappeared to hold her back. “ZERETHEL! ZERETHEELLL!”
“Tyrasam…” the Sunwalker spoke, scooping her off the ground to hold her close. “Look away… look away…”
“I COULD HAVE SAVED HIM! I COULD HAVE TALKED TO HIM!” She screamed at the top of her lungs, savagely kicking and punching to wiggle out of the wounded Tauren’s grip. His exhaustion got the better of him as he reluctantly released her, letting her sprint toward the remains to collapse at Zerethel’s side. Her trembling hands reached out to him, instantly recognizing the melted chain that was wrapped around his neck; it once was Jaeras’ gift he gave him a few days ago. The delicate woman broke down into tears, calling out his name over and over again. But the longer she screamed, the more the truth settled in; there was nothing else she could do, for her husband was well beyond reviving.
“Lord Sun’rael…” Gonthar spoke, still exhausted from the previous battle. “The Blackguard are on the retreat. But Zaldrannar is starting to fall toward the sea. We should regroup at the Throne Room to make sense of all this.” Alucieus nodded and said no more, looking to everyone present. He walked off ahead of the group. Whitstan stared at Tyrasam, refusing to turn a blind eye to the pain he caused.