Resurgence of the Light ch 21

As the mortals' new fort took shape, Krasus had to admit they were quite experienced in such things. After much discussion, it had been decided—with permission from Krasus—that the best location for the new stronghold in Dragonblight would be built in the mountains to the east of Wyrmrest Temple.

Not only was its proximity close enough to the floating necropolis of Naxxramas to serve as a good staging ground for attacking, but the close proximity to the Temple itself offered tangible benefits as well, such as employing additional forces to ensure that the Scourge’s stronghold did not attempt to escape by having some of the elder and stronger dragons camp around it.

Then again, he was uncertain if it was truly necessary, for the moment they began the construction, Naxxramas had attempted to float away. Yet chains made of Light burst from the ground and impaled it, stopping it in its tracks.

From what he had heard, the last time they had seen it, Light’s Chosen had allowed it to escape. Yet it seemed he had decreed that it would fall here and was not interested in allowing it to flee.

To Krasus, this simply proved what he believed previously—Light’s Chosen had no need for help from anyone in dealing with this threat. His actions in gathering allies were borne of pragmatism, plain and simple.

“Mortals, they never cease to amaze.” A soft and familiar voice spoke from beside him. Turning towards the speaker, he beheld Alexstrasza, who was looking at the mortals working in front of them with some fondness.

He furrowed his brows in some confusion. He did not think that she meant the simple fact of building. Did she perhaps mean the whole thing they were doing? Steadfastly working towards destroying this threat that threatened the world and that they have felt the effects of firsthand.

Some would think that they are singularly motivated by vengeance and while that may be true for some, it was much less than what he expected. Most simply strived to safeguard the world from this threat.

“Do you disagree with all this, Krasus?” Alexstrasza asked after a moment, still gazing ahead. There was some measure of vulnerability in her tone. Krasus did not even have to think for a moment. “No, I don’t disagree with any of this. Quite the opposite, it gladdens me to see this happen,” he replied, not a shred of hesitancy in his voice.

“Long have I said that we should have a closer relationship with mortals. All this is just proof that we should have done so sooner, for while Light’s Chosen had not arisen in a world where, with our assistance, none of this had come to pass. One must ask if the price paid by those who have died and suffered, as well as the man he once was, is too high.” As he finished speaking, the sadness in his tone was unmistakable.

For a moment, Alexstrasza was silent before she began to speak haltingly. “Even before then, had we seen the threat that the orcish invasion presented, perhaps they would not have…” She trailed off, and Krasus understood and placed his hand on her back in support. She turned towards him and smiled at him in thanks.

So they stood there and observed as their beliefs were affirmed, and their new convictions were strengthening.

~~~~

Sally Whitemane gazed intensely at Light’s Chosen, seated upon his steed once more. Silently and vigilantly, her eyes followed his gaze toward a floating, menacing sight—the necropolis of Naxxramas, their targeted destination and the primary reason for the stronghold's construction. A sneer tugged at her face as her hand tightened around Light’s Wrath held in her grasp.

Oh, how she longed to charge into that accursed place and purge it with the power of Light. While it wouldn't happen immediately, she consoled herself with the knowledge that Light’s Chosen had prevented any attempts at escape, ensuring its demise here.

A shadow overhead made her look up to see one of their new allies flying above—dragons. As a child, she had heard stories of these creatures but had never imagined she would meet one.

Like many others, she was quite distraught when Light’s Chosen revealed that one had attempted to destroy what they had achieved, what he had done. She couldn't comprehend how anyone could consider his actions negative.

Returning to life the heroes of old, allowing them to stand against the darkness threatening to engulf their world. Amongst them Uther, the Lightbringer himself—a legendary figure who stood against darkness until the end, now granted the chance to finish what he had begun.

Cleansing Stratholme and putting the tortured souls to rest at last, not to mention utterly destroying Baron Rivendare, the power-hungry fool who betrayed his kingdom and its people for power, brought a sneer to her face. Once she learned of the treacherous baron's fate, she lamented only the fact that his end came too swiftly, unlike those of his victims.

However, that wasn’t the only thing Light’s Chosen did in Stratholme. The more critical part, at least to her, was the revelation of the corruption within the Scarlet Crusade. How they had been manipulated and twisted to serve the purposes of a dreadlord masquerading as their venerated leader, leading them away from their path, down a dark and twisted one.

Others might have simply killed them all for their crimes, and she wouldn't begrudge them. Light’s Chosen had chosen differently, offering them a chance to redeem themselves in the Light, and so they became the Penitential Atoners, carrying the marks of their sins and the chains of their prison with them. While many believed that Sally was not one and did not carry such marks, she did, hers were simply of a different make, and she carried them without regret.

Hearing that someone had decided that all that he had done was a bad thing was something Sally could not accept. So, in her mind, dragons became enemies.

Seeing Light’s Chosen return from his trip, having secured draconic allies that did not begrudge what they had done, instead congratulating them and offering assistance, made her confused and uncertain.

While some doubts lingered in her mind, she could not deny the valuable assistance they had provided.

As Sally considered all this, she noticed a group of soldiers staggering through the gate, injuries covering them. It seemed it was time for her to return to her own duties.

~~~~

Darion and the group of soldiers he was with engaged in a skirmish against the forces deployed by the Scourge, intent on hindering the construction of their new fort. He had no doubt that a larger force was en route to remove them and eliminate the threat they posed to Naxxramas.

His gaze involuntarily shot to the floating monstrosity, and his anger and sorrow grew. Trapped there and turned into a weapon of the Scourge was his own father – Alexandros Mograine, The Ashbringer.

When he learned that Naxxramas had been allowed to escape back in Lordaeron, he was furious! He had wanted to march up to Light’s Chosen and demand why he allowed it.

Fortunately, those with clearer minds were able to calm him and explain the reasoning, even if he wished otherwise. As his anger cooled, he could not deny the truth. While the actions taken in Lordaeron had given them hope, there were many other things that had to be taken care of first.

Darion had attempted to sneak aboard one of the ships but was discovered by Light’s Chosen himself. When Light’s Chosen turned toward him, Darion felt as if his entire being was laid bare before his gaze. In the end, he had simply said one thing – “Let us see if you are worthy, Darion Mograine.”

Even now, he could not understand what Light’s Chosen had meant with those words. Worthy? Worthy of what? It was something that always nagged at the back of his mind, yet the answer remained elusive.

Ultimately, he chose to focus on his primary reason for coming here—to free his father. Not to say he did not agree with the overall cause that had brought them here. The Scourge was a literal plague threatening the world and must be destroyed.

Fortunately for Darion, both of these goals aligned. As he killed the last of the undead in this wave, he looked around. While many were injured, fortunately, there were no casualties. After setting fire to the corpses, they began the trek back to the fort to receive some healing.

As they grew closer, many of them looked toward Light’s Chosen. Once more, he had planted himself in a single place and remained unmoving. The Scourge had launched attacks at him, yet none had even elicited the slightest movement. The dead sent at him perished long before reaching him, and magic launched at him simply failed to reach him.

His indomitable will and immense power stood as a stalwart bulwark behind which they all gathered and were able to push forward. While Darion and many others understood that he did not require their assistance, him providing his assistance to them so that they might right the wrongs committed and ensure a better tomorrow was appreciated by many.

~~~~

Bolvar cursed the unyielding cold and dreary weather of the place; the incessant snowstorms were more than an inconvenience, slowing down every step to a crawl. The bitter irony was that while it bothered them, the undead adeptly used the cover of the weather to their advantage.

When the envoys from Lordaeron arrived in Stormwind, their tale left everyone stunned. A man wielded such profound power in the Light that undead couldn't endure his presence—a man who arrived at the shattered kingdom, performing miracles at the Light’s Hope Chapel. He breathed life back into those long deceased and led them to cleanse Stratholme of the Undead.

His actions against the Scarlet Crusade were severe, conscripting them to seek redemption through combat to atone for their crimes. There was also the startling transformation of the Forsaken, becoming Light-infused undead and unquestioningly following this chosen one of the Light.

Sylvanas Windrunner, the Banshee Queen, led the way as the first, marching on Undercity and purging those undead who had crossed a line, while offering Light’s salvation to those who remained redeemable.

Tirion Fordring, having returned, directed the remaining forces in Lordaeron to purge the land and begin its reconstruction. It all sounded fantastical and utterly unbelievable, leaving many hesitant to accept it as truth.

Instead, they chose to mock and ridicule the envoys, accusing them of spinning fantastical yarns. Chief among the skeptics was Katarina Prestor, at whom the envoys laughed heartily, until their laughter abruptly ceased. With a sudden coldness, Katarina's true identity was unveiled, her disguise burned away to reveal the stark truth before the city's eyes.

Her departure was as dramatic as her reveal, causing an explosion that claimed many lives and inflicted heavy collateral damage. However, despite the chaos, none could deny the undeniable truth in the envoys’ words, forcing the populace to reconsider their initial disbelief.

A snort escaped Bolvar as another revelation came to light in Vereesa’s presence—Quel’Thalas had been rebuilding under the leadership of Prince Kael’Thas Sunstrider.

There were evidently numerous other developments in Quel’Thalas, yet the envoys lacked concrete information on these matters.

Ultimately, King Varian had no qualms committing to aid in dealing with the Scourge threat. It was not only the morally right choice but also a repayment for their revelation of a plot within the city.

Consequently, it was decided that Bolvar would lead the vanguard to showcase their commitment. Additional forces would follow once more information was gathered about the deeds of Katarina, or rather Onyxia.

Upon reaching the Northrend port, Bolvar discovered that the main force had penetrated deeper into enemy territory and was currently establishing a new fort to launch an assault on a Scourge stronghold.

He left a portion of his men to fortify the port's defenses and led the rest, guided by one of Sylvanas’s rangers, towards the newly emerging fort.

While their wariness towards her persisted, even after her revelation of allegiance to the Light, Bolvar found himself deeply grateful for her guidance amidst the relentless snowstorm and the unfamiliar terrain. Her vigilance had repeatedly spared them from ambushes and kept them on course.

As the fort loomed closer, Bolvar couldn't help but anticipate a well-deserved warm meal and respite. Yet, upon sighting Uther and, unless he was mistaken, Sylvanas Windrunner at the gates of the fort, he knew his much-needed rest would have to wait even longer.