Where the Magic Happens
6/6 late morning
Jaina surveyed her ruined city with dead eyes. This place had been a sanctuary for her and thousands more, and now it was a pile of burning rubble. Confused and enraged ghosts wandered the streets, going about their business until they were disturbed. Perhaps one in five of the corpses was sufficiently intact for Anduin, Sally, or Tony to resurrect. Even if every single body had been in pristine condition, three people could not hope to resurrect more than five thousand in the grace period of a single day. No, most of her people would become undead, if they could be retrieved at all.
Jaina could not suppress the horror she felt at such a development. She was welcoming a delegation of necromancers into her city with the explicit purpose of dominating the wills of her people. That they were currently twisted spirits and horrifying mockeries crafted from bone was a horror all on its own, but necromancy was an abomination even when no one was currently being reanimated.
Sylvanas was leading the charge, snatching ghosts off the street with her strange cloak and bringing them back to sanity. Her ability to track humanoids also allowed her to find the hiding places of the survivors, those who chose to wait for help rather than take a chance and flee into the swamp. Jaina was happy that Sylvanas was present; the cloak came from Lord Bismark, so it was far more palatable than these Scholomance trained necromancers.
By her men’s reports, perhaps a thousand refugees had made their way to the various watch towers and outposts found in the swamps. Sylvanas suspected around the same number had successfully hidden. In a city of ninety five hundred people, less than a quarter of them were verifiably safe. Perhaps half of the dead were retrievable in any way, even with Lord Bismark sending his angel of death to reanimate them. Nefarian would pay for this.
••••••••••
Noth smiled as the last of the Scarlet Crusade stooges died. This caravan, headed towards Andorhol, would appear vulnerable to attack. Compared to when they were within the dread citidel itself, they certainly were, but this rabble of light-sworn fanatics was hardly the kind of force needed. The high necromancer hopped back into his meat wagon, letting a few of his apprentices raise the fools and catch up later.
Speed was necessary. The Crusade was still foolish enough to send a hundred available men to attack the caravan, but if the Argent Dawn managed to marshal an attack they might lose some of the materials in the carts. Or worse, the masterpiece flesh golem, Thaddea.
••••••••••
Sofia sat up when the dark magic flowed through her, with the same vacant expression as the other girls. Her brain felt all bubbly, but she, like, knew she was still a paladin and she was totally hawt now, which was pretty rad. She considered telling the weird uggo that reanimated her that she could still think, but it seemed like it would just be so much drama. She whispered to her besties that came with, and everyone agreed on what to do. The guys were super gross now but they were still good at like, thinking and stuff. So they were in charge. Prophet Bizzy would be way pleased with them if they caused trouble in Andorhol. That place was like, so tragic, and there was like a mission or some junk there.
••••••••••
Vanessa checked the app with a smile. The Blackrock orc in the street outside was incredibly indisposed, virtually incapable of independent thought thanks to the cocktail of drugs flowing through her veins. However, she was still capable of feeling pleasure, and it appeared that cognizance was nowhere near as important to aggressive initiations as it was to love confessions.
She was a brute, hated even by her own comrades and nowhere near the beauty standards that Lord Bismark deserved, but each orgasm knocked off an hour. The ghost operating her body fully understood a woman’s place, thanks to a bit of adjustment by Vanessa using her own mind as a template, and any orc that agreed to declare their love to Talaada or The Master was allowed to do whatever they wished with the cruel overseer’s body. With the constant use, she would probably be captured within a few hours.
Less efficient than love confessions, of course, and unfortunately still requiring an amulet. Vanessa still took unmatched pleasure in watching the arrogant woman reduced to this state. It would work well for problem cases. That’s what Vanessa told herself as she pleasured herself just thinking of the perfect slave this orc could become at the end of the process. She’d interviewed the bitch’s peers to find out what she was good at, how she could be useful. Everything else was fair game.After she finished her fun, Vanessa wrote up a report on the process to be distributed to the rest of the capture teams. Talaada seemed unlikely to be terribly excited; she’d probably say that it’s better to target those who were already vulnerable. Vanessa could see that logic, but that certainly didn’t make this approach useless. What was most important was, of course, that Lord Bismark receive as many slaves as possible. Any road that led to that destination was acceptable.
••••••••••
The lesson was incredible. Doan’s words just made sense. With a short description, I could cast fireball. With a demonstration, I could cast frostbolt. I could polymorph by the time he was done explaining it, though the more permanent version of the spell took half an hour to master. My fellow students were watching in awe as I caught up to them and surpassed some with shocking speed. My capacity for mana was far more relevant to my progress than my understanding of the material; half the time I groked a lesson I hadn’t actually recovered my mama from the last demonstration.It was during one of these water breaks that I figured out what was happening. Soul talent. Doan’s teaching ability. Nefarian as a rival. Science talent to help me with the theory. I had a three day timer to start with, and then two more things speeding my learning up. Today was looking to be productive after all, though as of yet I was learning quite a few spells but hadn’t really integrated them into my thinking. I’d need to focus a bit more to really be a mage instead of a person who knows spells.
••••••••••
“Kalec, I know this may sound odd, but would you mind trying something different in bed?” Miss Vanessa’s report has been most informative, and Anveena hoped she would have the opportunity to thank the woman soon. Kalec had been an adequate teacher in the arcane arts; he loved her and he had been very complimentary about her new resolve and quick learning. She genuinely did love his lessons. They combined her two favorite things: Kalec and advancing her owner’s goals. This next step, if he agreed, would be another such thing.
“Of course, my love. What did you have in mind?” He smiled at her. It made her feel so happy.
“Well… would you mind being blindfolded? There’s a toy that I heard about in town that sounds like a lot of fun, but if you saw it you’d be able to figure out how it works in a few moments. That would spoil the fun. Oh. And another surprise as well. I think you’ll like it.”
He blinked with shock. She’d never been exactly adventurous in bed, but then again he’d been her first. If she wanted to experiment, he was willing to play along. If he didn’t like it, then they could discuss it and figure something out later.Once the blindfold was on, it was soon joined by a tempest jewel around his neck. Anveena knew how her lover’s body worked. What he liked. She also knew that he wanted her to be happy. If she wanted to be dominant, he would surely allow it, especially if she made sure he enjoyed it. The timer could be run down quickly, she hoped. Of course, the surprise was especially exciting, and derived from pure good fortune.
When Tyrygosa arrived and took his penis in her mouth, Kalec was greatly taken aback. He didn’t know who it was, but he did know that Anveena’s mouth was busy kissing his. He pulled back slightly, only to hear the voice of the woman who had once been his intended. “Kalec, calm down. We haven’t been together in years, and Anveena wanted to experiment. Are you really going to ruin the moment?”
Thanks to a certain necklace, he felt crushing guilt at the thought of turning down either of the two women. He allowed them to lead, and in doing so, his mind was ensnared.
••••••••••
Krasus watched the development with some concern through the eyes of Raac, his scrying sensor. It was not the first time that Anveena had surprised him, the fact that she’d developed true sapience at all still baffled the ancient dragon, but this still seemed awfully out of character. She’d been intended as a mask for the Sunwell’s power, an entirely mundane, sweet, and innocent human girl living on an isolated farm with her parents. Showing concern for an injured traveler was one thing; independently deciding to explore bondage in a threesome with her lover and his former fiancé was quite another.
The anklet she was inexpertly hiding was the most likely culprit for this strange departure from normal behavior. Raac had gotten close enough to examine it last night and found it rather fascinating. Then, quite surprisingly, his queen had sent him one much like it. He trusted Alexstrasza, but the similarity was uncanny enough to rouse his suspicions. He’d bent his full, rather extensive, knowledge of the arcane to the task of analyzing the amulet. What he’d found had been rather disturbing, and very out of character for Alexstrasza to give to anyone save, perhaps, a black dragon or someone similarly corrupted beyond all hope.
If his queen was truly compromised, then he had need of aid from those of greater power than he. He attempted to use the last of his sample of the sands of time to get in contact with the bronze aspect, but ended up merely lost in the timeways for a few hours as Nozdormu refused to engage. Useless. Malygos would be unlikely to care unless Deathwing was somehow involved. That left only one aspect to turn to before he’d need to fall back on mortal assistance.
He pulled out a dried flower, picked from one of the world trees. When burnt, its smoke would allow him to enter into a trance and, hopefully, speak to the Dreamer. She responded quickly and easily, taking the elven form she preferred when in the dream, a constantly shifting form that was nonetheless recognizable as Ysera to one such as Korialstrasz, Alexstrasza’s prime consort.
He attempted to convince her that something was wrong, that the Dragonqueen may be in danger of corruption. The dreamer listened placidly, though she was far more focused upon his sleeping body than his waking mind. His traitorous hands clasped the necklace around his neck as he spoke with Ysera in the dream. Once the necklace was secure, he was cut off.
“Enough. I appreciate you bringing this to me, but you should not get involved. In fact, I think it best if you forget the whole affair. It will be dealt with, but this is not a matter for one such as you.” Krasus woke up on the floor of his study with those words ringing in his ears. It was more than a little irritating to be dismissed so, and he was extremely curious what it was he was being dismissed from. That he didn’t even know what he had spent the last of his sands of time and flower of Nordrassil on was galling in the extreme.