A mournful song echoed throughout the bowels of the Undercity, shattering the constant eerie silence that pervaded the dread citadel. To think that it was once the shining capital of glorious Lordaeron; a place full of vibrant life and bustling noise only a few years past till the return and betrayal of the traitor prince and current Lich King of Northend Arthas Menethil. Even to this day, his presence continues to loom oppressively over the locale he had deemed his new capital till circumstances called for his return to the icy wastes of the north; though the Undercity was now run by new management; namely the rebel Forsaken under the leadership of the Banshee Queen Sylvanas Windrunner, former subordinate to Arthas himself.
Atelier Sunfang sighed gloomily as she dangled her feet over the edge of the circular passageways bisecting the very centre of the Undercity, watching nonchalantly as hunched over Forsaken and burly, ferocious looking orcs haggled incessantly with one another regarding matters of trade while a single towering tauren astride a great kodo beast conversed amicably with the Forsaken banker; his gleaming armor clearly earmarking him as a warrior of some repute and his tabard marking him as a proud member of the Argent Crusade.
She bit her bottom lip as she considered the heavily armored warrior and muttered to herself, “When will I ever have such an opportunity?” Each and every time, the silent Forsaken guards or the orc berserkers watching the zeppelin towers had barred her path and denied her passage atop the giant blimps that customarily bore the Horde to the icy tundra of the north; stating that she was not yet worthy, that it would be wise for her to confront first the many perils of Azeroth or Kalimdor before even venturing beyond the Dark Portal, let alone Northend.
‘And how in Azshara’s name are they even able to tell?’ she thought sullenly before leafing through her bags again and rifling out a moldy parchment bearing the seal of the Banshee Queen herself. She ripped the seal open before feasting her eyes upon the content within, reading:
By order of the Banshee Queen,
The Scarlet Crusade threatens our very existence, and it is only by the joint effort of the Horde that their advances have been beaten back on many occasions. We cannot allow this thorn in our flesh to linger any longer, lest it festers and distracts us from the ultimate enemy, the unending legions of the Undead Scourge which currently runs rampage in the neighboring Plaguelands despite the efforts of our finest agents in collaboration with the neutral Argent Dawn.
The cowardly leaders of the Scarlet Crusade present in Lordaeron have finally made their existences known; the Houndmaster Loksey, the Scarlet Champion Herod, Scarlet Commander Mograine and High Inquisitor Whitemane. All four are currently holed up in the fortified Scarlet Monastery to the north which overlooks the entirety of the Lordaeron region and are protected by the full might of the Scarlet Crusade.
While we possess the strength to destroy them, such a strenuous effort is deemed foolish in the light of our current precarious position—should we resort to force to expel the Scarlet Crusade, we risk the Undead Scourge itself falling upon our weary forces and consuming us piecemeal.
The Banshee Queen has decreed that this not be, and has issued a clarion call for heroes to rise to this challenge: the assassination of the four leaders of the Scarlet Crusade within the hallowed halls of their so-called Monastery where the blood of hundreds of our fellow Forsaken have been spilt at the hands of the damned Interrogator Vishas. By doing so, we will succeed twofold—leaving the Scarlet Crusade directionless and doomed to destruction and striking fear into the hearts of their zealots as they learn that their esteemed commanders have perished within the same walls they have deemed impenetrable.
Should you have received this scroll, be proud. You have been considered worthy of the Banshee Queen’s consideration and it would be needless to mention, but you will of course be duly compensated for your valiant efforts against the Scarlet Crusade. From the very treasuries of the Undercity, one of the following will be offered you—the Sword of Omen, the Prophetic Cane or the Dragon’s Blood Necklace.
You have been entrusted with the future of the Forsaken, no, the very presence of the Horde in the Eastern Kingdoms lies with you and your companions, hero. We wish you all the best.
Sneak into the Scarlet Monastery alone and attempt to assassinate the leaders of the Scarlet Crusade? She scoffed at the very thought, knowing her elongated ears would instantly betray her identity as a blood elf and from what she had heard, the Scarlet Crusade were fanatically intolerant of all other races save the humans and knew of her race’s alliance with the Forsaken, whom they still saw as filthy undead heedless of the Forsaken’s affiliation against the Scourge.
They would flay her alive before she could even reach any of their commanders. She tapped her fingers impatiently; hoping to the Sun that someone would have read the appeal that she had posted upon the bulletin boards pasted by the auction houses in the Undercity, requesting a group to travel the hotbed of the inquisition itself, the Scarlet Monastery.
As if on cue, a thickly accented voice asked her in guttural Orcish, “You are Atelier Sunfang?”
She turned to see a thickly bodied Orc hunter eyeing her slowly, with a dire wolf she assumed to be his pet nearby ravening on a piece of raptor meat. She shuddered to see its sharp fangs tear through the thick ribs easily—she was well-acquainted with raptor meat during her travels through the Barrens and knew it to be extremely tough; and to see a beast consume it so easily was unnerving.
“Well?” the Orc hunter asked impatiently and she stammered a quick yes. She eyed his muscular form speculatively, fully garbed in burnished mail and knew him to be a hunter of some reckoning—there were but a scarce few of his profession who had attained the right to bear mail arms; the Hunter’s Guild being notoriously selective when it came to electing the finest of its hunters.
“I am Raktor, and this is my companion, Serrah,” the Orc formally introduced himself. Atelier nodded hesitantly in reply, uncertain as to how she should respond. She was never fond of guttural Orcish, her tongue never managing to wrap itself around the harsh sounding words properly. She flushed as she recalled one such mishap that had a troll rogue challenging her to a duel outside the gates of Orgrimmar when all she had done was to ask him for directions, only to learn from a fellow blood elf that she had mispronounced her words which had been translated as an insult against the troll’s mother instead.
Thankfully, the helpful Blood Knight was able to discourage the rogue from mutilating her though since that day she had never deigned to communicate in Orcish if she could help it. To her surprise however, Raktor considered her carefully before asking in abominably accented Thalassian, “You have trouble communicating in Orcish?”
Through sheer will Atelier prevented herself from exclaiming aloud in surprise and she murmured in passable Orcish, “No, it is simply that…”
“You!”
She jumped involuntarily and leapt to face a familiar troll rogue who was hissing ominously under his breath even as he drew a wickedly hooked dagger from his sheath. “Not you!” she sputtered as she scampered to her feet but he was already upon her, snarling furiously only to be jerked up abruptly and thrown several feet away by Raktor.
“Jimbei!” he barked roughly at the very same troll she had accidentally insulted all those days ago, “What is the meaning of this?”
“She insulted my mother, mon’! There be no forgiving for that!” the rogue clambered to his feet before vanishing in a cloud of dust.
“What?” Raktor exclaimed, turning on Atelier who cried out in fright, “It was an accident! My Orcish didn’t translate properly—I was just asking for directions to the Crossroads!”
The hunter moved with commendable speed, firing off a flare into the air which illuminated the hidden rogue and Atelier reacted on instinct, casting polymorph upon him and quickly retreated behind a baffled abomination guard of the Undercity. The rogue shook off the effects of her spell in seconds and bawled angrily, “And she have the nerve to turn me into a sheep, mon’! Jimbei has no pride if he allows such an insult to pass by unpunished!”
Raktor however had placed himself firmly between the hiding Atelier and the angry rogue and placated his friend, “The blood elf said it was but a misunderstanding, friend.”
“The girl lies! If it wasn’t for the dratted paladin that day, Jimbei would have certainly gutted her that day itself and would now wear her skin as a cloak!”
Atelier squeaked involuntarily and cowered behind the guard only for a rough hand to grab the hem of her robe and toss her unceremoniously before Raktor and the grinning Jimbei. She protested vehemently as she turned on her assailant, only to be disquieted by the scene before her: that of a Forsaken undead clad in the plate vestments of the Ebon Blade—a death knight.
He hissed in a hollow voice, leveling his great runeblade at her, “Do not waste my time, whelp. You are the one who requested aid in bringing down the leaders of the Scarlet Monastery, are you not?”
She whimpered her assent, her tongue lost in the shock that had overtaken her upon discovering the death knight. Raktor said in a placating tone, “Verius, calm down. There is no need to frighten the newest member of our party while we still await Issildar.”
“Whoever said she could join, mon’?” Jimbei swore in irritation and made to advance on Atelier who backed away nervously but Raktor took him by the scruff of his collar and said threateningly, “She has been about the only other person who has agreed to take on this task, and by Thrall, I’ll not let you cut out her throat and have us wait another week or so to find another who is brave enough to take on the pride of the Scarlet Crusade!”
Atelier almost wept at that moment. ‘So I’m alive due to necessity?’ she thought mournfully.
“Can I kill her after we’re done then?” Jimbei asked plaintively.
“Whatever you wish,” the hunter scowled threateningly at the rogue who backed off several paces before dropping to his haunches sullenly.
“I think I’ll just drop this quest,” Atelier said to no one in particular and had just begun to make her way down towards the bank only for the death knight to jerk her back onto her rump and hiss coldly, “No one backs out now. We have been waiting for too long…” He ran his runeblade up the exposed nape of her neck lightly and she shuddered with the awful realization that she could no longer leave...
--
[This is the actual blog post]
I actually forgot I wrote this... If I recall, Jay asked me to write something for a Blizzard fanfiction contest some time back and the winner could get a Frostmourne replica and a trip to the Blizzard offices, but hey, guess what--Malaysia wasn't included in the list from where entries could be submitted!
Zebah!
Regretfully, I never did finish this thanks to my hopelessness at maintaining my inspiration for my stories... I'm struggling to think up Flameheart 21, Parellel! 2 and Atelier 6 even as I speak and I only stumbled across this because I was looking for any short stories I might have written to post up on Fictionpress to just remind people I'm still alive...
I liked this actually. Well, at least I didn't feel the urge to chop it up and rewrite the whole thing again, as I have done with Flameheart and Crimson in times past.
...
Actually in truth? I have plenty of inspiration, it's the writing it out that is problematic! I even have a 'Children of Dune'-esque sequel to Flameheart BUT... I have no idea when I can even complete Flameheart in the first place haha.
*sigh*
I would definitely like to be a writer some day...
If only writing was a professional course, eh? =P
[inserted random thought]
I want Maia to look like Leah Dizon… She’s got that wide-eyed, pretty yet vulnerable look going for her meh, sorta like what I had envisioned for Maia when creating her.
P.S. Yes, I will be inserting random thoughts in my posts henceforth and no, they will not all revolve around Leah Dizon haha. =P
