A Nerubian's Journey

Hidden behind several powerful concealment spells, Tichondrius stood high in the sky atop a platform of hardened Fel magic overlooking the battle taking place beneath him. While he was fully capable of flying, he had always found it tedious to do so while staying in a single location.

Under a dark and lightning filled sky, a constant stream of various undead creatures were assaulting a group of surprisingly skilled mortals. The warriors of the so-called ‘Shado-Pan’ were far more capable than the peaceful monks who once lived on the back of Shen-Zin Su. These few were exceptionally gifted, having been chosen to guard the Isle of Thunder against any intruders.

Unfortunately for them, the Lich King was far beyond what they were prepared to handle. Once this island was chosen for their staging ground against the rest of Pandaria, it had been completely surrounded by a horde of aquatic undead and isolated by preventing the creation of any portals to the mainland.

Still, the mortals fought against a foe that they couldn’t defeat with surprising bravery. They had fallen back to a small fort and showed every intention of fighting to the last.

Tichondrius hummed in approval as he watched a pandaren dressed entirely in black gracefully jump from his fort’s walls and launch herself toward one of the sea giants threatening to destroy the mortal fortifications. Her sword crackled with lightning as she smoothly decapitated the undead giant, ending it in a single blow.

While it was possible to reanimate a creature without its head, the magic involved was significantly more complex for a headless torso. The greater the difference between what a body’s soul “remembered” as its form and what it was now, the more difficulty a necromancer would have in animating that soul’s corpse. For the vast majority of these disposable undead, such a thing was almost never worth the effort.

These mortals had learned that extremely quickly when the undead they were facing, ignored any normally fatal wounds to the rest of the body.

The surrounding undead immediately attempted to swarm the Shado-Pan warrior as she landed, but the warrior was quickly protected by a barrier of Light that effectively kept the undead at bay. Tichondrius turned his attention to the mortal responsible, a robed member of the Omnia Discipline, a faction of the Shado-Pan composed of mages and priests.

Without these spellcasters, he was almost certain that the mortal warriors would have already fallen.

“Your people are quite impressive,” Tichondrius complimented the only other person standing atop his platform. “The mortals of Azeroth have always been truly exceptional. I’m glad to see that hasn’t changed since I was last here.”

When he received no response, Tichondrius chuckled in amusement and turned to look at his unwilling companion.

Master Shang Xi looked much different in death than he did in life. His fur was a spectral white and his eyes emanated an icy-blue glow common among sapient undead. The lantern that had once hung from his curved wooden staff had been replaced by a frost-rimed orb of concentrated necromantic magic. The only thing that looked the same about him was his robes, as the Scourge did not yet have the facilities to forge an adequate replacement.

Raising the undead monk as more than just an insane ghoul had taken some effort given the damaged state of his corpse, but the mortal had impressed Tichondrius enough for him to see it done. Master Shang Xi had proven surprisingly strong willed, having retained much of his personality and skills after having been risen into undeath. He also never failed to remind Tichondrius about the involuntary nature of his servitude.

“Well? I would quite like to hear your thoughts on their performance,” Tichondrius prodded, gesturing towards the ongoing conflict.

Master Shang Xi turned slowly, glaring at Tichondrius with his icy blue gaze. Despite being undead, there was still a spark of life in his eyes; a lingering defiance that Tichondrius found both amusing and intriguing. He could of course squash that rebellious attitude with the slightest effort and ensure the undead monk’s undying loyalty to the Lich King, but that would be far too boring.

With his fellow nathrezim off on their own missions, and Gul’dan being as single-mindedly obsessed with power in death as he was in life, Master Shang Xi was the only interesting conversational partner Tichondrius could find.

“They fight with honor and courage,” Master Shang Xi finally spoke, his voice a whisper of its former warmth, now laced with a cold undertone. “They bring great honor to their people by fighting to their dying breath against your evil.”

The monk’s words were punctuated by the sight of one of the mortal defenders being dragged down from the wall he was defending into the surrounding undead. He fought valiantly, cutting down swaths of shambling corpses in a flurry of steel, his last breath taken in a defiant roar that echoed across the battlefield. Moments after he died, a massive ball of arcane fire landed on the spot where he fell, destroying a large number of undead and ensuring the warrior could not be raised against his allies.

“They certainly learn fast,” Tichondrius observed as he studied the magic being used by the mortals. There was only one among them who wielded Arcane magic, while a few others used the Light and an unusual form of Spirit magic. “Tell me, Master Shang Xi. Do you believe that they will break once the inevitability of their deaths becomes clear? When they begin to grow slow and tired?”

Unlike last time, the response from Master Shang Xi came instantly. “They will not. They already know that this fight will be their last, but that knowledge will not break them. It will only make them stronger.”

Tichondrius continued to watch the battle for several more moments. While the mortals were beginning to slow down, there was an elderly monk who was floating in the middle of their fort and exuding Spirit infused mist that constantly healed their wounds and reinvigorated them.

“I agree with your assessment, Master Shang Xi,” said Tichondrius, his mind running through countless scenarios as he considered the implications the strength of these mortals had for his plans. “If our enemies continue to be capable of lasting for so long against our forces, then we will need to face them with overwhelming force.”

Tichondrius considered simply calling on Gul’dan to destroy these forces. The former warlock was skilled at creating portals and could easily send a group of powerful undead behind their defensive lines, but such a tactic wouldn’t always be possible. The frontlines of their conquest would often be far beyond the Lich King’s reach, so Tichondrius needed to know if the Scourge could operate without direct help.

“Our forces are far too uncoordinated without an intelligent undead leading them. Perhaps they’ll do better once you take control of them, Master Shang Xi,” Tichondrius said, eager to see how the undead monk would fare against his former people. “While talented, I’m sure these brave warriors won’t last much longer.”

The undead monk was no great tactician, having lived a mostly peaceful life, but he was fairly skilled with magic and martial arts. Tichondrius watched as Shang Xi turned to glare at him with chilling hatred, which he responded to with a sympathetic smile.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that. You must understand that they’re only going to make things harder for themselves if they continue resisting,” said Tichondrius, his tone a facsimile of sympathy. “You must know that the Lich King intends to raise such capable warriors as his servants. If their bodies are too badly damaged by the mindless undead, then they will suffer far more than is necessary. Not everyone has your strength of mind, after all. If anything, you’ll be doing them a service.”

Shang Xi continued to glare at him for several moments, but eventually jumped down from the platform. He knew that he had no real say in the matter, and Tichondrius’ words were not entirely without merit. Undead with badly damaged bodies required more necromantic magic to raise, and mentally suffered from the missing and decomposed body parts.

Once he landed amid the undead, Shang Xi raised his staff and channeled magic into the orb that hung from it. Moments later, every undead on the battlefield shuddered and momentarily paused as Shang Xi took control of them.

Tichondrius hummed in approval, gratified that Shang Xi had learned from his few lessons on necromancy.

With a wave of his staff, Shang Xi directed the undead forces with newfound organization and precision. Several sea giants struck at weak points along the fortress, while naga spellcasters created ramps of ice that allowed undead to easily charge up the walls. Undead pandaren moved with surprising agility, leaping over the walls and distracting the enemy from being able to mount an effective defense.

What had been a slow battle of attrition became a rapid onslaught that caught the mortals off guard.

Meanwhile, Shang Xi displayed all the skill he had in life and moved through the battlefield like a whirlwind, striking down the defenders while skillfully dodging any magic or projectiles directed at him. Each of his blows was forceful but calculated, ensuring the mortals’ bodies remained largely intact even as they fell.

From his vantage point, Tichondrius watched as the tide of battle began to turn. The Shado-Pan put up a valiant fight, but their numbers were dwindling and their magic was losing strength. The final blow came when Shang Xi managed to maneuver behind enemy lines and slay the elderly monk who had been rejuvenating the defenders.

The monk’s mist dissipated as her body hit the ground, revealing the true weariness of the Shado-Pan. For the first time since this battle began, Tichondrius could see fear and hopelessness begin to overtake them.

It wasn’t long before the last of the Shado-Pan fell, succumbing to the relentless undead. Satisfied with the results of this battle, Tichondrius flew down to congratulate his companion on their victory.

“Well done, Master Shang Xi,” Tichondrius said warmly as he landed amidst the fallen mortals. The undead monk ignored him, gaze distant as he stared at his surroundings with an utterly indiscernible expression. “Your tactics were simple but effective, and you’ve managed to keep their corpses remarkably intact. You should be proud.”

That finally seemed to be enough to bring Shang Xi back to reality as he turned to regard Tichondrius with a seething glare so unlike the once peaceful monk.

“Proud? I have brought nothing but disgrace to the memory of my people,” Shang Xi replied bitterly, his soft voice clear in silence left in the wake of the battle. “These warriors deserve to feel pride in what they have done, but I take no pride in this senseless evil.”

Tichondrius scoffed, faintly annoyed by the undead’s short sightedness. Despite Shang Xi’s talents, he was so very young and knew so very little.

“Evil? What is that?” Tichondrius drawled dismissively as he swept his eyes over the battlefield. “I have never understood why you mortals so abhor death that you label any force that brings you closer to it as evil. Is it a result of your ignorance as to what comes after? An innate fear of the unknown? Or is it simply because you’re all so incredibly attached to your fleeting lives?”

Shang Xi looked as if he was about to respond, until he suddenly took a deep breath, and his expression returned to the tranquil stoicism that was more characteristic of the monk.

“That is simply not something a creature like you would understand,” Shang Xi replied evenly, his eyes once again growing distant. “The sanctity of life is not something that can be explained through mere words.”

Tichondrius felt a hint of frustration at the monk’s response, but he quickly pushed it aside. He had been alive long before the first mortal came into being on Azeroth. There was nothing of interest that could be learned from these creatures.

“Then I see no reason for us to linger,” said Tichondrius, turning around and striding away from the battlefield. “Our scouts should by now have combed through this Isle of Thunder. It’s a wellspring of untapped power and I find myself impatient to unearth its secrets.”

After a moment, Tichondrius felt Shang Xi begin to follow him, and he allowed his mind to other matters.

When the Scourge had first passed through the concealment magic protecting Pandaria several months ago, they had not attacked immediately. Tichondrius had first ordered the oceans surrounding the land to be filled with undead, destroying and raising any natural sea life that once existed around the continent.

Then, he had instructed the naga to begin constructing underwater fortifications while Tichondrius began gathering more information about the land and the mortals living on it. The Burning Legion had not been aware that these lands existed before Shen-Zin Su was raised into undeath, so Tichondrius obviously knew little about it. With the ability to shapeshift and search through memories, it had fortunately not taken very long before Tichondrius knew all that he needed to know about Pandaria.

After the collapse of the Pandaren Empire, the mortals of these lands had a highly decentralized government and no standing army. Instead, they were protected by four powerful Wild Gods that they referred to as the August Celestials and a small but elite fighting force called the Shado-Pan. The only true threat to their safety was a race of Old God worshiping insectoid creatures called the Mantid.

With this in mind, Tichondrius had decided that the best course of action would be for the Scourge to focus its attention on the pandaren. While the August Celestials were worthy of caution, defeating the Mantid would likely take the Scourge years of effort. Time that they did not have.

Instead, it would be far more effective for them to simply accumulate their forces by destroying coastal settlements. There were plenty of islands surrounding Pandaria’s mainland, so there were many vulnerable mortals waiting to be welcomed into the ranks of the Scourge. Mal’Ganis had volunteered to lead that effort, and he was having considerable success.

Meanwhile, Tichondrius had taken the Lich King and Shen-Zin Su to find a more appropriate location where they could construct a staging point above land, eventually settling on the Isle of Thunder.

Tichondrius glanced upward to the island’s namesake. As far as he could see, the sky was engulfed in a perpetual storm as magical lightning danced across the clouds. Tichondrius felt a hint of respect toward the one who created the impressive magical phenomena and once ruled this island.

“Tell me more about this Lei Shen,” Tichondrius ordered his companion as they walked past a group of skeletons patrolling the island for survivors. “This level of power is not something that should be achievable by a mere mortal without falling under the service of a greater being.”

Azeroth was truly a unique world, with absurdly powerful beings hiding behind every corner. Tichondrius could easily see why the Legion was so obsessed with conquering it.

“You already know as much as I do of the Thunder King,” Shang Xi said reluctantly, forced to speak against his will after being given a direct order.

Tichondrius had already known that was likely to be the case, but he still found himself disappointed. Most pandaren only knew about Lei Shen through vague legends. The only ones who might know more would be the leaders of the Shado-Pain, but Tichondrius did not currently have the means to capture and interrogate them.

“A pity,” Tichondrius said as they approached their destination. An undead naga sea witch was directing a group of undead in the construction of a large pillar infused with a combination of Fel and Arcane magic. “I would very much like to know if the legends are true and that this Lei Shen left behind a body. He would definitely make for a useful soldier of the Scourge.”

Tichondrius would normally worry about losing control of such a powerful undead, but the Lich King would need to be either destroyed or extremely injured for anyone to escape his control.

Shang Xi seemed to startle at the thought, but otherwise kept his thoughts to himself. As Tichondrius approached, the sea witch spotted him and ceased her commands before bowing deeply.

“Lord Tichondrius,” she greeted, her four arms crossing over her chest in a gesture of respect. “Construction is progressing as scheduled. The pylon will soon be ready to tap into this island’s leyline nexus.”

Tichondrius nodded in approval. It was important that the Scourge establish robust magical defenses around this place before any powerful entities managed to rally against them. He did not yet know how powerful the August Celestials were, but if they were anything like the Wild Gods who took part in the War of the Ancient then some amount of caution was warranted.

“Excellent work, Tidemistress Nar’kess,” Tichondrius responded as he surveyed the pylon appreciatively. “What progress have the scouts made in surveying the island’s interior?”

The undead naga swayed slightly on her serpentine lower half as she rose from her bowed position. “Progress has been steady, and we have already located many points of interest. This place will serve as an excellent stage for the Scourge’s future conquests. To the west is a large graveyard full of the bodies of this island’s former rulers. To the north is a mine filled with lightning infused ore, along with a well-constructed forge built atop Titan machinery.”

Tichondrius couldn’t help but be surprised. He had already predicted that the Isle of Thunder would serve as an excellent staging ground given that it was once Lei Shen’s seat of power, but this was even better than he had expected.

“Send every necromancer we have to begin raising the dead in that graveyard,” Tichondrius ordered, his mind racing with the implications of their discovery. “The mortals who were buried there are guaranteed to know far more about this island than we do. Acquiring their knowledge is a priority. I will examine the forge myself. That is far too important a task to leave in the hands of someone less capable.”

Tichondrius knew far less about forges than those of his kin who worked at the Cursed Forge of the Nathrezim, but what little he knew would be more than any of these undead.

“Yes, Lord Tichondrius. Your orders will be carried out immediately,” Nar’kess bowed her head once more and gestured for one of her naga attendants to relay the command.

“Good. What have we learned about the Throne of Thunder?” Tichondrius asked as he glanced toward the massive palace to the north. The structure rose high into the stormy sky and was adorned with several pylons that crackled constantly with lightning. “Securing it will be essential if we wish to take full control of this island.”

If Titan machinery was buried nearby, Lei Shen’s palace had become the highest priority for Tichondrius. Those buried machines gave him a significant hint as to the source of the mortal’s power.

“Ah… that is somewhat more difficult, Lord Tichordrius,” Nar’kess responded, her voice carrying a hint of hesitation. “The palace appears to be under the protection of potent wards. It is also being guarded by a large serpentine creature that can fly through the air and call upon lightning.”

Somewhat curious, Tichondrius decided to cast a scrying spell over the Throne of Thunder. While he couldn’t see within its interior, it didn’t take very long for him to spot the creature in question. He was greeted to the sight of a massive cloud serpent, more than a hundred feet in length and covered in blue scales that crackled with lightning.

It took Tichondrius a moment to sort through the local legends and recognize it as Nalak the Storm Lord, Lei Shen’s personal mount.

“I see,” said Tichondrius, surprised by the power radiating from the beast as it patrolled the palace. “I will have to handle this creature myself.”

The Scourge only had a few smaller undead cloud serpents and couatl that were capable of flight, and especially didn’t have ones capable of defeating such a powerful beast. It would be very useful for future battles once Tichondrius had slain it. However… it would probably be wise to enlist the assistance of Mal’Ganis first. He had long since learned that recklessness came with unpredictable consequences.

It was fortunate that Tichondrius already planned to contact Mal’Ganis and the three brothers to discuss the progress of their respective missions anyway.

“Shang Xi, you’re free to do as you like,” Tichondrius said, glancing toward the monk. While he was confident in the magic controlling Shang Xi, there were things not meant for outsiders to hear. “I suggest you spend that time helping the mortals you killed adjust to their new circumstances. I’m told undeath can be quite disorientating initially. Perhaps your guidance could ease their transition.”

Shang Xi simply nodded serenely and began making his way back to the recently killed pandaren. As he walked away, Tichondrius couldn’t help but muse over the undead’s mental resilience. Not only Shang Xi, but many of the monks had displayed an abnormal ability to control themselves despite the effects that necromantic magic often had on mortals and their emotions. It was a factor that he would be keeping a very close eye on.

With a few beats of his wings, Tichondrius lifted off into the air and started flying toward the southern coast. That had been chosen as the best place for Shen-Zin Su to be stationed. From that direction, undead were constantly streaming out over the island and converting it into a Scourge Stronghold.

It wasn’t long before Tichondrius caught sight of the gargantuan figure of Shen-Zin Su. The barrier surrounding its shell had been lowered, revealing the turtle’s entire shell to be covered in thick layers of ice and an army of undead. There were also several runes carved into the creature that glowed brightly with a mixture of Fel and Death magic.

Ignoring the feeling of Gul’dan watching him closely, Tichondrius continued flying until he reached the Temple of Five Dawns at its center and began making his way to the top of the structure. The temple had become the center of his operations, and he only allowed only the most useful undead to enter.

After entering the largest room of the temple, once belonging to Master Shang Xi, Tichondrius closed the door behind him and began casting wards to protect against any listeners. He chuckled as he felt a wave of frustration come from the Lich King. Once that was done, Tichondrius reached into empty space and opened a small portal from which he retrieved a shimmering Fel crystal and quickly cast the spell to activate it.

Tichondrius waited as the crystal floated to the center of the room and began pulsing softly. There was no telling if his fellow nathrezim were currently in a location where they could afford to have a conversation, so it was best to be patient.

Several minutes later, the crystal suddenly flared brightly and the image of Varimathras appeared in mid-air. The two of them didn’t bother to exchange any greetings as they waited for the rest of their kin. Balnazzar was the next to appear, wearing the guise of troll witch doctor, while Detherocand Mal’Ganis responded soon after.

Seeing no reason to delay, Tichondrius began the meeting the moment that the last of them responded to the scrying spell. “The Scourge has successfully taken control of the Isle of Thunder. The only resistance of note was a small garrison of Shado-Pan warriors…”

Tichondrius spent the next few minutes reporting the details of his mission. The result was as expected, so none of his fellow nathrezim showed any kind of reaction until he mentioned the Titan machinery and the beast guarding the Throne of Thunder.

“Given the circumstances, I believe it is best that you return as quickly as possible,” Tichondrius said as he concluded his report, turning his attention to Mal’Ganis. “Are you in a position to do so? Have you completed your mission?”

Mal’Ganis nodded in affirmation, his expression more subdued than Tichondrius had expected. “I have. The pandaren have begun retreating away from the coasts, and the Scourge has developed a significant presence in the Krasarang Wilds. I also managed to discover an island of cloud serpents along the eastern coast of Pandaria. Unfortunately, I was confronted by one of the local Wild Gods before I could kill and raise them.”

Tichondrius was not particularly surprised to hear that. They had decided to act overtly as they didn’t have time to use more subtle methods with the threat of the Aspects always present. The natural consequence of that was that they would quickly attract the attention of the local powers.

“And? How powerful was it?” Tichondrius asked, eager to hear an estimate of the Wild God’s power.

“Very,” Mal’Ganis admitted, his eyes narrow. “The one that came for me was Yu’lon, the Jade Serpent. The pandaren must have been worshiping these August Celestials for quite some time, because the creature was significantly more formidable than I expected. Not as much as Malorne, but certainly as powerful as many of the other Wild Gods we faced during the War of the Ancients.”

Tichondrius’ lips curled into a thoughtful frown at Mal’Ganis’ warning. He had no doubt that the Scourge would easily be able to sweep over the pandaren on their own, but such powerful guardians would complicate things significantly. Tichondrius didn’t know how long it would take the Aspects to discover their location and find a path through the concealment magic around pandaria, but he doubted that it would take years.

The Scourge had still not yet grown powerful enough to face the combined might of the Aspects head on.

“Very well,” Tichondrius said as he rearranged some of his plans to take into account this new information. “Come to the Isle of Thunder as quickly as possible. Perhaps Lei Shen left behind some useful artifacts within his palace that we can use. If not, then we will simply have to find another way to deal with these troublesome Wild Gods.”

Mal’Ganis nodded in agreement as Tichondrius turned his attention to Varimathras. Azjol-Nerub was one of the most powerful mortal kingdoms that they would eventually need to confront, so Varimathras’ mission to sow chaos on Northrend was of great importance.

“I’m afraid that Mal’Ganis is not the only one who has run into complications,” said Varimathras, his voice carrying a hint of frustration. “I have researched the nerubian defenses around the vrykul who are in stasis and found them to be robust. Even if the vrykul were to be awoken, Azjol-Nerub has many magical and biological weapons stationed nearby to kill large swaths of them as soon as they do.”

Tichondrius could feel his frown deepen as he was given even more unfavorable news. The nerubians operated with a degree of competence and ruthlessness that he could admire, if it wasn’t causing him so many problems.

“Fortunately, I believe that I may have found a viable alternative in the Drakkari,” said Varimathras, his frustration disappearing as he smirked slyly. “There are more vrykul than the ones who exist on Northrend, and I’ve heard legends that many of their souls pass on to a ‘Goddess of Death.’ After some investigation, I believe that this entity could be the answer to many of our problems.”

Tichondrius listened as Varimathras told him of Helya and her Kvaldir. Such a being would make for a powerful ally, and they both had much to gain from cooperation.

“Very well. Travel to the Broken Isles and attempt to make contact with this entity,” Tichondrius commanded. It would likely take Varimathras some time to find Helya, which only made things more difficult. “Do so as quickly as possible. We cannot afford to wait long before moving on to the next stage of our plans.”

Tichondrius turned his attention next to Balnazzar, who was still wearing the guise of a troll witch doctor. Balnazzar had always been a typical nathrezim, preferring to cause chaos among enemy ranks while working from the shadows.

“I have identified two paths through which I can weaken the Eastern Kingdoms,” Balnazzar began, his voice even and businesslike. “I initially considered instigating a conflict between Ironforge and the Dark Iron dwarves, but found there to be too much Void influence in Black Rock Mountain for my comfort.”

That was no great surprise. The Burning Legion already knew that Ragnaros the Firelord resided within Blackrock Mountain and was under the influence of the Old Gods. The degree of that influence was not known, but it must be significant if Balnazzar decided against approaching the Firelord’s domain.

“I then decided to investigate the Gurubashi and discovered that I arrived at a fortunate time,” Balnazzar continued, his eyes glinting in satisfaction. “A powerful troll warlord has begun consolidating power in Stranglethorn Vale. It should not be difficult for me to ensure his success and guide him in a way that furthers our own interests.”

“And how long will this take you?” asked Tichondrius. A troll warlord waging war across the Eastern Kingdoms would be useful for weakening future opposition, but it did little to help them in the short term.

“Not too long,” Balnazzar assured, realizing the need for swift action. “The warlord in question has become notably more powerful after returning from some journey out to sea. It won’t be long now before they move against the remaining Gurubashi tribes. I will ensure he succeeds.”

That was indeed good news, but Tichondrius doubted that the Aspects would allow themselves to be distracted by mere trolls. His initial plan had been for the three brothers to enact their plans somewhat simultaneously for maximum effect, but it seemed that would not be possible. Tichondrius needed to cause a significant enough threat now while Gul’dan was still developing his forces.

If the defenders of Azeroth were to confront the Scourge now, the best case scenario was that they would be able to retreat and disappear into the vast ocean to rebuild once more. The most likely scenario was that the Aspects would simply obliterate them before they were allowed to do so.

With these factors in mind, Tichondrius turned his attention to the only nathrezim who had yet to deliver his report. “Are you in position?”

Detheroc nodded in affirmation. “Indeed. There is no sign that southern Feralas is being monitored closely by anyone. The only noteworthy development on Kalimdor is the tauren successfully pushing the centaur back west over the past few months with the help of the nerubian I mentioned in my previous report.”

That a nerubian had been blessed by an Aspect was definitely something Tichondrius intended to learn more about when he had the opportunity.

“Coupled with its proximity to one of the Great Trees leading to the Emerald Dream, I believe that this is the perfect place for us to carry out our plan,” Detheroc continued.

“Then do so,” Tichondrius said decisively. He had intended to wait longer, but it seemed that circumstances were forcing his hand.

“Then I will begin immediately,” said Detheroc, his figure disappearing as he closed his connection to the Fel crystal.

With nothing further to discuss, Balnazzar, Mal’Ganis, and Detheroc broke off the connection soon after, leaving Tichondrius alone with his thoughts. The leader of the nathrezim found his mind racing as he tried to estimate how much time this scheme would afford them. Even in the worst case scenario, the Green Dragonflight would be far too busy to threaten the Scourge.

However, the best case scenario would see the kaldorei empire facing a threat beyond any they had encountered since the War of the Ancients.

Detheroc stored his Fel crystal away the moment he finished speaking to his colleagues. Toward the end of their meeting, Tichondrius had shown an urgency for action that he couldn’t disagree with. Azeroth was far more prepared to deal with the Lich King than they had ever imagined, and it was severely affecting their plans.

Nathrezim were not ones to lean toward sudden and dramatic actions, but they had to change the situation if they were to succeed.

Crouching down, Detheroc began to unlock and open the Fel Iron container that had been personally enchanted by Lord Kil’jaeden. The magic surrounding it ensured that its contents could not spread beyond its borders. Reaching inside, Detheroc retrieved a large, blooming flower that radiated an enormous amount of Life and Fel magic in equal measure.

Detheroc let out a sigh of admiration as he studied the flower, even as it threatened to burn his flesh and burrow roots beneath his skin. The Evergrowth of Draenor must have once been a truly terrifying entity, a collective hive mind of that world’s plantlife. The Horde had killed the last of the Genesaurs, the immense plantlike beings that once roamed Draenor, but Kil’jaeden had been able to harvest their corpses in order to create the flower that he now held in his hands.

Now that the flower was infused with Fel magic and enhanced with the most powerful rituals that the Burning Legion could muster, Detheroc was eager to see what kind of threat it would pose to Azeroth.

Seeing no reason for further delay, Detheroc slowly planted the flower into the ground beneath him and watched eagerly as it immediately began to spread.