1,739So, rather annoying that we cannot submit our chapters the normal way, but nevertheless I will provide as I am able, even if it means using the Copy/Paste feature to get my chapters online on time! I am very excited to have received so many reviews for the prologue, and hope that the same enthusiasm pressing on through the first chapter as well. With that said, enjoy!
Chapter One
First Steps
Gul'dan was beyond furious.
Not only were his personal forces greatly diminished from Doomhammer's assault of the Shadow Council, leaving him with merely a handful of initiate Necrolytes, aside from his personal lieutenant, the ogre mage Cho'gall, but in addition he lacked even Garona's usefulness in dealing with the squalling human brat. It wasn't safe to just leave the child alone with any of his servants, who would fail to see the relevance of the child and slaughter it without question, and with the near random magical disturbances that happened around the child on a near daily occurrence, it was too dangerous to simply leave the child alone in his tent, where his enchantments would spell death for any intruder.
Even now, with the comical image of the massive, two headed ogre carefully cradling the infant, Gul'dan was losing patience in being able to focus on the problem of the demanded magical warriors that Doomhammer expected him to create.
"Feed him, Cho'gall, before I lose my mind to the incessant screaming," Gul'dan demanded, and the ogre blundered for a mere moment as he fetched a skin of milk, plundered from the ransacking of the keep. Large enough to hold the child comfortably in one hand, Cho'gall slipped the nip of the skin into the baby's mouth, hefting the sack so that the child could freely drink on its own, and the boy silenced immediately, sucking contentedly as excess liquid dribbled down the pudgy cheeks.
As the child greedily ate, Cho'gall turned to Gul'dan "Why is this human brat so important Gul'dan," one head asked, "Is it being prepared for a powerful sacrifice?" the other added.
Gul'dan paused, his brilliant mind spinning at the mention of the word 'sacrifice'. Of course, that was the answer to at least one of his problems. "No, Cho'gall, but I do believe a sacrifice is in order to appease Doomhammer and provide him his warriors. The Necrolytes have served their purpose, and now they shall be given a new one, even greater than before. When the child is finished, give him to me and gather our implements."
When the two-headed ogre mage departed, Gul'dan watched the now quite content child squirm in his hands. His servant could not see it, but this child's power was immense, but in the baby's current state it was unrefined and utterly wasted in purpose. However, there may be a way to use the child in amplifying the ritual to an even greater level.
"What a wondrous tool you are, little one." Gul'dan said with a chuckle as the baby burped loudly from drinking the milk too fast. The Warlock realized that eventually he would have to give the baby a name, but orcish tradition didn't usually name a youngling until they were certain of its survival, after about three winters. But that was how things had been done on Draenor, where the climate was a trial in of itself. Here the weather was more mild, less likely to kill the boy from strong cold winds, so Gul'dan could reasonably dispense with the old tradition.
A human name would probably have been most appropriate, but Gul'dan wanted the child to know that his loyalty was first and foremost to the orchish warlock himself. Staring at the boy's frighteningly green eyes, Gul'dan found himself drawn to name the baby Nobu'tan. Odd though it would be, to give a human a name that would better fit one of the Far Seers of old, but nevertheless Gul'dan felt that little Nobu'tan had great potential to guide their people into a new and prosperous future, under Gul'dan's leadership of course.
Gathering the babe in his arms, Gul'dan departed for the ritual site. Cho'gall had done his work well, lining up the bodies of slain human knights around a hastily constructed altar. Beside it was another pedestal, this one much smaller, and worked into a basket-like carrier. Gul'dan set the baby in this second plinth, where he would be fully accessible and viewable to the entire ritual.
Soon, drawn by their own curiosity rather than Gul'dan's summons, the other Necrolytes joined then, standing around the central altar and more than once observing little Nobu'tan with disdain.
Rakmar, the proclaimed leader of the remnant of lesser warlocks glanced around at the fallen knights, and guessed their purpose, although Gul'dan could tell that they all were still uncertain about the purpose of the babe or the altar itself. Let them guess, by the time they realized it would be far too late.
"We are summoning our fallen brethren?" Rakmar asked softly, almost reverently at the idea.
"Yes," Gul'dan replied, focusing intently on the incantation he would need to perform. "Doomhammer may have slaughtered the other warlocks, but their souls linger. We will summon them and instill them in human bodies," he grinned as he commented, "They will be eager to return to this world and serve the Horde once more."
Rakmar nodded, understanding that much of the ritual, "That will animate them." he agreed, "but will it give them power? Or will they be little more than walking corpses?"
"Silence!" Gul'dan commanded, forestalling other questions. Rakmar was getting too close too fast to the true purpose behind the ritual, "We begin!"
Summoning his magic to him, Gul'dan immediately began the ritual, filling himself it the chaotic power that Kil'jaeden had blessed him with so long ago. It wasn't nearly enough power yet, but that would change very soon. For the moment Gul'dan focused on channeling his energies into the main altar before them all, and he smiled widely as he felt the human baby's natural magic drift in as well, aiding strength unknowingly by the boy's mere presence.
Rakmar and the other necrolytes joined in, lending their own necromantic magic to the incantation. Once they had done so, it would be most difficult for them to focus on anything else, and therefore they did not notice that Gul'dan had moved from his position until it was too late.
Stalking slowly to position himself behind Rakmar, Gul'dan pulled from his robes a curved dagger. Unable to stop a growl of escaping his lips, the grand warlock lashed out with the blade, catching the surprised Necrolyte fully across the throat. Blood arced out, splattering he pair of them, and Rakmar toppled back onto the altar itself, and Gul'dan leapt upon him to prevent the orc from trying to escape.
The dagger was immediately sunken into Rakmar's chest, ripping over the chest cavity, and Gul'dan quickly plunged a clawed hand inside to remove the still beating heart. Casting the spell he had prepared, Gul'dan watched as his and a portion of Nobu'tan's magical powers enveloped the organ and ripped Rakmar's spirit from his body and trapped it within the heart. If that was not enough, then the magic of the altar activated, reshaping the bloody organ into something more useful, shrinking and hardening it and granting an unnatural luster. As the Necrolyte fell to rise no more, Gul'dan grinned down at the small glowing gem in his hands.
Glancing up, he spotted that Cho'gall had already killed several more of the Necrolytes, transforming their hearts and souls in like manner. The rest were cowering pitifully, their magic still caught in the air around the altar, unable to flee and too weak and afraid to fight. They were worthless to Gul'dan like this, but it did make things easier for the pair of powerful warlocks to slaughter the weaklings. Soon they would all be warriors at heart, with the souls of dead warlocks to guide their necromantic magic.
Looking down at the gem from Rakmar, Gul'dan smiled. Doomhammer would be pleased with his undead warriors, and Gul'dan would have his shadow council back, after a manner of speaking.
Walking over to Nobu'tan, Gul'dan watched in amusement as the little baby stared back with wide, confused eyes. there was a small splatter of blood on the baby's head, near the strangely magical scar, but instead of frightened by all the loud noises ritual magic, the boy was only concerned and curious.
'Yes,' Gul'dan thought, 'the boy would make a valuable apprentice…'
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Teron Gorefiend, once the orc warlock Teron'gore, looked on as his mentor Gul'dan effectively played with a human child. The cold, calculating Death Knight knew of the warlock's plans for the boy, and his unnatural magical power, but it was difficult to get over the fact that the child was one of their enemies. And sworn to Doomhammer or not, in his cold dead heart Teron no longer cared for the Horde, or their plans for world domination.
He wanted more, some scent of power that he and his fellow undead warriors could call their own. If he could acquire the power of portal magic from Gul'dan, the way would be open for the Death Knights to find their own world to reshape into an undead paradise. But the paranoid warlock kept that knowledge a secret, sharing it with no one, and all those who worked on the portal directly were slain within hours of its completion.
The orc warlock was currently attempting to begin teaching his youngest apprentice the ways of demonic magic, and although the human runt was merely four or five winters old, Teron had to admit the boy was a quick learner. The child had already succeeded with conjuring shadow power from the Twisted Nether within his first session, something that had taken Teron almost a month to accomplish, and fashioning it into a bolt of devastating power.
Currently, the grand warlock was trying to teach little 'Nobu'tan' the proper method of summoning his first demon. "Nobu'tan, reach out into the Nether with your magic, radiate a call to service through the void, and keep the tether open until something makes contact…" Gul'dan instructed, the little imp that he himself had summon scampering around his ankles as the small human sat and attempted to imitate when the orc warlock had achieved.
"I feel something…" the child said shakily, still working to master the orcish tongue.
"Good…" Gul'dan coaxed, being far gentler with the child than Teron had ever remembered the ruthless master of the Horde acting. "Now lead the creature back here, to the summoning circle, and allow it to materialize."
It didn't take long before the circle flared to life, ejecting green flames as the tiny horned body of an imp leapt out, fire in its eyes as it looked upon the human child. "Woah!" the creature sputtered disrespectfully, "I thought there had to have been some sort of party, with all the magic being throw at me, and I show up to find a runt of a warlock, how boring!"
"Silence worm," Gul'dan threatened, much as he had with the imp he had summoned himself. "Speak your name so my apprentice can call you in future."
The imp studied the human boy for a moment, before shrugging. "Name's Quzkol, pleased to meet'cha, can we burn something now?"
The boy laughed, colder than Teron expected. Perhaps it wouldn't be so hard to overlook the child's race if he proved to be a powerful warlock. Stepping forward, he addressed Gul'dan. "Doomhammer has summoned us to assist the final push into Kaz Modan, their warriors are having great difficulty in breaking the lines of the dwarves there."
"Great!" the imp Quzkol stated, hopping up and down gleefully, "when do we leave?"
Staring down at the wretch with his growing red eyes, Teron was ready to declare that neither the imp nor his child master would be needed, but Gul'dan spoke first. "Soon, little demon, it'll take time for us all to travel from this place to the boarders of Kaz Modan, but then you will have your precious bloodshed…"
The imp cheered, before hopping up onto the human boy's shoulders, looping the fiendish tail around the pale neck for balance, and the three of them started back to the grand warlock's tent. Teron was surprised that the small human could keep up with them, as well as the fact that he did not whine or complain when the terrain grew difficult, merely pushed on like any orcish child would have been expected to.
He most certainly had misjudged the child, and would not make the same mistake again when it came to the humans or their resilience.
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Ogrim Doomhammer gazed angrily across the bland expanse before him that separated his warriors from the Dwarven territory. Called the Badlands from several maps captured from Stormwind Keep, the desolate landscape in of itself wasn't something of a problem to cross, but inhabitants were more of a problem.
Since the taking of Blackrock Mountain nearly a year ago, the dwarves that once inhabited the region had been forced to flee, crossing the mountains to the far side of the volcanic area, and retreating through a small, heavily defended gatehouse that led to the dwarves' capitol of Ironforge.
So many efforts had been wasted trying to take that tiny post and the even heavier guarded valley beyond it, that Ogrim had determined to send more warriors around the long way of the mountains and find a pass to come around on the opposite side of the valley. Unfortunately, the dwarves they had just evicted and chased had apparently thought the same idea, and had already constructed a fortress to prevent the Horde from moving any further around the mountains. Without access to Kaz Modan, the Horde would never have enough fuel to create their armada and sail up to the lands of Lorderon.
Zhulud and his dragon were not ready to be of use either, nor were the Dragonmaw warriors accessible, having long ago departed to the far side of this pass, to a fortress called Grim Batol, where they held their esteemed prisoner.
This left the Warchief of the Horde with really only one option, and it was one that he did not enjoy to use. He had sent for Gul'dan. The wily warlock would have some magical answer for this problem, and even though Ogrim trusted Gul'dan no further then he could throw the old orc, he had little choice if he wanted to achieve the Horde's vision of conquest.
When the warlock finally deemed it pertinent to arrive however, the great Warchief was confused to see a tiny creature following in the orcs footsteps. No demon, nor even an orc, but a human child, clad in robes that were blazed with the symbols of Gul'dan's clan, the Stormreavers. Bringing up the rear of the group was the massive ogre, Cho'Gall.
At least something useful was accomplished, Ogrim thought as he spied Teron Gorefiend in the mix of warriors that had arrived with the warlocks. Two more clans had arrived to bolster his warriors. "You sent for me, mighty Doomhammer," Gul'dan said, the last of respect literally dripping from the lying tongue.
"Yes," Ogrim replied, irritated that he had to do this. "The dwarves are proving far more resilient that we had expected, and their defensive structures are most impressive. I require your talents if we are to push through their line and conquer the lands beyond them."
Gul'dan turned to look out across the Badlands, spotting the small rise of the fortress the Dwarves had hastily constructed. "There may be a way, Warchief," Gul'dan stated, pulling at his massive beard.
"Explain it then, warlock…" Ogrim stated, having no time or patience for the traitor's cryptic nonsense. Gul'dan must have sensed this as well, because he ceased all snide comments, merely turning to the other two with him for a few moments to discuss the warlock's plan. Ogrim was curious to understand what the orc thought he could gain from the counsel of a tiny human runt, no more four winters old at the best, but Gul'dan turned back to him before the Warchief could question it.
"It is agreed," the warlock said, "we shall decoy the dwarves into taking in some of our strongest warriors, thinking them human refugees, who will then annihilate them all once inside their fortress."
It was indeed a better plan than Ogrim could have hoped for, "How do you intend to get the dwarves to agree? Surely there aren't enough of out elite warriors that speak their tongue or even the human tongue well enough to be convincing…"
"That, will not be a problem," Gul'dan said, smirking as he placed a clawed hand gently on the human child's head. The boy smirked likewise at the old orc's touch, and Ogrim felt a keen unnaturalness about the child, like some horrific creature lurked just inside the human skin, not unlike the Death Knights.
"One of your creations, I presume Gul'dan," Ogrim questioned, frowning at the little being.
"After a manner of speaking," Gul'dan replied, smiling at the flash of irritation that blew across Ogrim's face at not receiving a clear answer to his question. "Rest assured that the fortress will fall within the week, and the Horde can move on to greener pastures…"
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Nobu'tan smiled happily as his master led him across the barren wasteland to the edge of the dwarven fortress. He might have been only five winters old, but through enchantment and grueling trial he was more than intelligent enough to understand much of the world around him. The dwarves were preventing the Horde from moving further up the continent, and had to be eliminated, for which task Nobu'tan had been volunteered by Gul'dan.
For his part, Nobu'tan was most pleased to be so trusted by his mentor. Gul'dan and Cho'gall had already selected the strongest and fiercest warriors of both the Stormreaver and Twilight Hammer clans, both of which were under strict orders to bring no harm to Nobu'tan. He was well aware that he was not an orc, but one of the humans that they sought to fight against, but it was Gul'dan that raised him, not some human mother and father, and regardless if they had been slain in the fall of Stormwind or not, Gul'dan had made the choice to raise him, showing more compassion than to any other creature that Nobu'tan saw.
And if Gul'dan, mightiest warlock of the Horde cared enough about him to look past his failing by being born human, than Nobu'tan would take it at that and ask no more.
Gone were his fine robes with spells and enchantments, safely left back at camp in his master's tent. Nobu'tan wore rags that had been scavenged from the many human encampments throughout the southern region. Due to his small size and rather frail appearance, it was easy to believe that the dwarves would take pity on him, rather than kill him on the spot.
Staggering a bit to make the act seem genuine, Nobu'tan drew within sight of the fortress guards, and froze as shouts in the dwarven tongue started to sound in his ears. He wasn't remotely familiar with the language as he was with orcish or even the human common, so as the metal doors groaned open and several burly dwarven warriors emerged, he shied back a few steps.
That, combined with his rather pitiful appearance, seemed to make the dwarves second guess his as any sort of threat. The one in the lead, who wore a larger helmet and breastplate, walked right up to Nobu'tan, and began speaking in the dwarven language to him. Being roughly the same height as the dwarf, Nobu'tan could pick out a few select words that he was saying, but overall it was a jumbled mess of unknown, and eventually the warrior gave up, signaling with his hands for Nobu'tan to follow them inside.
The orc raised human looked wildly around the moment they entered, noticing that all the other warriors stayed at the main gate, which clearly meant that he was not considered to be any sort of threat to their secrets or defenses. Normally, they would have been right, but Nobu'tan wasn't an ordinary human child.
The lead guardsman took Nobu'tan gently by the hand and led him through the fortress as it burrowed underground, eventually stopping in a wide room well under the surface. The dwarven leader was a meticulous looking sort, with fierce eyes and a black beard on his darker face. The dwarf's armor and weapons were piled on a nearby table, while another; older dwarf lingered nearby in dull looking robes.
The lead guard and the leader started to converse, but Nobu'tan had no idea what they were discussing, aside from the obvious with the number of gestures and glances being sent at him. Apparently the leader was not of the opinion that they ought to have allowed Nobu'tan entrance to their fortress, wisely so, but it was already too late for that.
Soon, the irritated looking leader gestured for Nobu'tan to approach, and the robed dwarf stepped forward as well. "So laddie, we hear that you were found wanderin' out in the badlands. Care to tell us how ye got lost out in the part of the world?" the dwarf said in near perfect common.
Nobu'tan worked hard to not reflexively stiffen. He had hoped that none of the dwarves knew the common language, but now that he had been addressed, he had to speak.
"I…I don't know, sir. I was with my family, running from the evil creatures, and we wound up near here. I was playing, and got lost… I just wanna go home…" Nobu'tan acted, allowing real tears to start forming in his eyes.
The dwarves, even the surly leader, all noticeably melted at the slight amount of childish whining, but were clearly angered at the thought of orcs driving humans through these lands. The leader, after hearing the translation from his advisor, turned and barked orders at the lead guardsman, probably to send out search parties to find the band of 'humans', Nobu'tan guessed.
"Don' ye worry a bit, lad." The advisor said as the leader stormed away himself, "We'll help ya find your family, even help them git out of this here wilderness. Dem orcs are a right menace to all us folk, and if we don' band together, well…" the dwarf trailed off for a moment, seemingly torn over speaking of such outcomes to a child.
"Ye can just rest here while we search for ye family, youngun. You've probably had a long day, and are dehydrated at the least. I'll have someone bring down some food and drink for ye." The dwarf added, moving toward the door. Nobu'tan pretended to settle down in a chair far too big for him as the dwarf softly shut the door, but bolted up again once he was alone.
Gul'dan, Cho'gall and the others would be found quickly, and lead back to this place. It wouldn't do for them to become lost in plundering all the important secrets of the dwarven fortress, so Nobu'tan needed to do a bit of sneaking about himself.
Reaching out into the Twisted Nether, Nobu'tan called Quzkol to his side once again, and the little imp danced about merrily to be somewhere new and exciting, and flammable.
Easing open the door to the leader's room, Nobu'tan peered outside, smirking when he saw no one nearby. He had no idea which way he was going or what might be there, but exploring something was better than just waiting around for his Master.
Darting off in a direction, Nobu'tan stealthily hid in shadows and peered around corners until he found a door that he felt like opening. It was heavy, and didn't give easily, but with a bit of effort, Nobu'tan managed to creek the rusty door open enough to squeeze inside.
Within lay some sort of dwarven library, scrolls and tomes piled high along the far wall, while a desk and chair were settled in the very center of the room, facing back towards the door. Glancing around quickly, Nobu'tan spotted two major facts. First, that there were several chests lining one wall, one of which was open with gold and jewels visible from where he stood.
The second, and probably more important of the two, was that he was no longer alone here. "Oi lad, what'd'ya think you're doing in here?" the old advisor said, more concerned than angry at Nobu'tan, but he did not care at this time.
The dwarf might have seen Quzkol, or if not, he would shortly, and so Nobu'tan quickly attacked, releasing a black of dark chaotic energy at the dwarf. The imp took this as his signal to attack as well, and unleashed a pair of miniature fireballs, each of which also impacted the dwarf, who fell noisily to the ground.
Nobu'tan froze for moments after the dwarf fell. Not only was this really his first kill, but he was afraid that someone might have heard him and come investigate. When no one did however, the orc raised human let out a sigh of relief.
Quzkol on the other hand, was ecstatic, "Wow! What a rush! Let's find another one to kill, come on can we? Please, oh please?"
Silencing the imp's bloodlust with a wave of his hand, Nobu'tan stained his ears. Far above them, he heard something, like a distant rumble or the sound of thunder. "I do believe," he said after a moment of silence, "That Master Gul'dan has arrived…"
Looking around the room quickly, Nobu'tan searched for anything of value to take before making his escape to the attacking warriors above. Nothing in the room was readable to him, as it was all in the great dwarven runic script. Making a note to learn to read it later, Nobu'tan snatched a pair of tomes that felt magical in nature, as well as a large scroll that had been rolled out on the desk when he entered. It looked like a map of the southern part of Kaz Modan, with lines drawn upon it for troop maneuvers. Doomhammer would appreciate being aware of his enemies plans.
As he made his way back to the door, Nobu'tan spotted one last thing for himself to take. Lying innocently on a chair next to the door was a rather small cloak, somewhat too small for even Nobu'tan to wear, but poking out of one of the pockets was a straight wooden object that pulsed with some magical power. Happily snatching the wand with one hand, Nobu'tan checked to make sure that none had come out into the hallway while he was pillaging the room.
Thankfully, it seemed that everyone in the base was preoccupied with the surprise attack to even remember him, so it was with little effort that Nobu'tan started to make his way back to the stairs leading to the surface, his precious treasures bouncing with each step.
When he finally reached the topmost landing, which he presumed was the ground floor, there was chaos, dwarves were running in every direction, but very few spared him even a glance before hurrying on to fighting the attacking orcs of the Stormreaver and Twilight Hammer clans.
Grabbing a length of rope as he passed, Nobu'tan peered out of a widow, realizing that he had gone up slightly too high, and was now a good twenty feet above the ground, with a fiery fortress beneath him.
Securing the rope, Nobu'tan threw it out of the window, watching it unfurl and bounce against the stone sides as it fell. Thankfully, Dwarves made their ropes long and firm, and it reached comfortably close to the ground for Nobu'tan to feel safe enough to climb down it.
From behind him, Nobu'tan heard the gruff voices of dwarves, and before they could draw closer, he swung out of the window, letting the rope slide neatly between his hands as he scaled down the sheer side of the wall.
Outside, several burly orcish warriors, now devoid of their human illusions, waited with a mighty catapult, looking eagerly at the fortress as they waited for word to level it with the siege weapon. Among them was Gul'dan himself. Spotting his master, Nobu'tan ran to him, smiling widely at his success. The warriors, members of the Stormreavers themselves, didn't even blink as the human child ran up to their chieftain. They knew the suffering that awaited anyone who tried to harm the warlock's apprentice.
"I hope your mission was successful, Nobu'tan." Gul'dan stated, looking at the collected items that the little human child held awkwardly in his hands. Nobu'tan smiled, pulling the scroll from among them and handing it to his master.
Gul'dan unfurled the battle map of the dwarves, and smiled widely. "Very good, apprentice, this will be more useful to our 'esteemed' Warchief, and allow us to move away from front line duty."
Addressing the grunts, Gul'dan continued, "When Cho'gall and the Twilight Hammer have had their fun, level the fortress, then return to camp. We're going on ahead to present this to Doomhammer."
"Yes chieftain," the orc warrior grunted in unison.
Scampering after his master, Nobu'tan felt the rush of adrenalin start to fade as they moved further from the battle, and smirked as the orcish warlock patted his messy hair gently, "you've done well for your first mission. In time you will be better prepared for such tasks, but this was an excellent first step. With luck Doomhammer will leave us alone for a while so we may continue your training without interruption."
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Cho'gall, ogre magi and chieftain of the destructive Twilight's Hammer Clan, smirked evilly as the catapults leveled the dwarven base that he and his warriors had slaughtered hours ago. The chaos and blood were more than enough to keep himself, along with the warriors that had earned the honor of attending, sated for a good while yet, which was perfect for their needs to stay focused on the goal of moving up through the dwarven lands to the green fields of the northern human nations.
Despite having two heads, Cho'gall was keenly of one mind in most matters, from fighting to leading his clan, but there was one large matter where even he, with his view of the power of the Twisted Nether thanks to Gul'dan, disagreed; the human runt, Nobu'tan.
One head's thought was the he ought to be pleased that there was another of great power and potential for his master to train, and by extension for himself to influence, but the other was concerned that Gul'dan would choose this little mongrel over himself one day, and Cho'gall would be cast aside.
Each had excellent points on the matter, and in the privacy of his own tent he had debated the topic more than once for hours, but still came to no certified consensus. It was maddening at times, especially in cases like now, with the tiny human having summoned his first demon, and being rewarded with an important task within an assault that could have been much quicker to do without the boy's interference.
But Gul'dan had insisted that the bratty human whelp had to be given the chance to prove himself, and delayed their attack until the dwarven warriors had come, thinking that they would find human survivors, but instead found the most elite warriors of the two clans.
And while even Cho'gall could agree that the boy had done well in bringing back battle plans from the fortress, it seemed unnecessary when they could have taken the fortress and claimed the same plans without his subterfuge.
One head, ever the optimist, wondered if Gul'dan had suspected something that Cho'gall himself was missing, and they actually had needed the boy to be able to defeat the dwarves' fortress, but once again he couldn't be sure. Whenever the boy was involved things got so complicated, and it was hurting Cho'gall's two heads to think about it for long.
When the fortress was finally rubble, Cho'gall marshaled the warriors and sent them back to camp, while he himself made his way to where Gul'dan had had his own tent placed. The grand warlock was present, along with the brat, perusing the two tomes that the boy had also retrieved from the dwarven fortress, while the brat fiddled with a wand at the orc warlock's feet.
"Ah, Cho'gall, your timing is perfect." Gul'dan said as the ogre magi approached. "Young Nobu'tan is ready for his next lessons, but I am otherwise preoccupied making whether there is something worthwhile to us in these tomes. You teach him…"
If Cho'gall was torn before, this brought it to a whole new level. The child smiled up at the two headed ogre, eager to learn something and studying the much larger creature's every move.
"As you command, Master," Cho'gall said obediently, leading the human whelp a short ways away from the grand warlock so they had unhindered space to cast. Remembering back to his earliest lessons, Cho'gall thought it might be best, seeing where the boy's progress was, to teach him how to bend reality to corrupt the internal organs of a chosen target, for a time.
Picking several large boulders as decent targets, one head lectured the concept in simple terms for the child to understand, while the other directed his will at the rocks, willing their insides to start rotting away. This ability skimmed the line of necromancy, but it was most effective when facing a large assortment of skilled warriors, allowing the caster to heavily hinder one target, and focus on the others for more painful spells.
What caught the ogre mage by surprise was how quickly Nobu'tan was on the uptake. With only being shown the spell twice and after one failed attempt on his own, the human managed the spell perfectly, quickly turning a smaller rock to muddy residue through the corrupting influence of the Nether.
Nodding in congratulations, albeit begrudgingly, Cho'gall started naming off object near them for the boy to practice on, steadily choosing larger and larger things to test how powerful the boy's spell was. Impressively, only things the size of Cho'gall himself were largely unaffected by the boy's corruption spell. He would indeed become a powerful warlock, perhaps even strong enough to defeat Gul'dan.
Naturally, a simple rock or plant wouldn't be as difficult as a moving, living opponent, but for his age and size, Cho'gall was suitably pleased with how well Nobu'tan picked up the raw destructive magic of the warlock.
Unfortunately, their time was short, as Gul'dan quickly finished with the two tomes, and called for both of them to follow him to the tent of the Warchief, so they could deliver the message of their success and the battle plans that had been captured.
Cho'gall did not care for Doomhammer. The orc had a wiliness about him that put off the ogre mage, and the fact that he betrayed a close friend, the former Warchief Blackhand, did not speak well of his trustworthiness or loyalty. Granted, he had done so only to put an end to the reigning power of the Shadow Council, of whom only Gul'dan and Cho'gall himself now remained, discounting Teron'gor and the other warlocks who were turned into Death Knights.
Still, it wouldn't bode well for the Twilight Hammer Chieftain to go about mentioning these facts, so he kept both mouths firmly shut when in the Warchief's presence, and all was well.
Cho'gall was keenly aware that Gul'dan sought a great power that was hidden here in this world, and that it had something to do with the sea, otherwise why would the warlock be so supportive of Doomhammer's plan to gather fuel from the dwarven lands and attack the Northern Kingdoms by water. It was interesting, but with Nobu'tan around Cho'gall wondered how much of a role he or his clan would be playing in the grand scheme.
They'd be involved, to be sure, as Cho'gall was duty bound to serve Gul'dan above all others, but would he be part of the final prize, or cast aside in favor of the little human apprentice. It was difficult to say.
Thankfully, Doomhammer was in a good mood upon their return, and happily took the battle plan, commanding them to pull back from the front for a time of well earned rest, until he called for their services again. It seemed that they might simply bypass the rest of the dwarves and continue north, as the mountain passes up to the city of Ironforge were so well guarded that it would require a monstrous force to take it, and losses would still be devastatingly heavy. Yet this didn't seem to perturb the Warchief, and Cho'gall wondered if there was something going on behind the scenes, something that Doomhammer was waiting to show at the right moment to help turn the tide in their favor, if it was ever needed.
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Khadgar sensed something out of place. From atop the tower once owned by his old mentor, Medivh, now that he was freed of any responsibility to the Kirin Tor of Dalaran, he was more than able go about his research of magic on his own terms. But at this time, he was somewhat wishing that he had the resources of the other Archmagi to confer with.
Something... new, was stirring in the air; some new magic that was brewing directly in the middle of the horde's territory. He would attempt to investigate it himself, but there was one large, green problem with him attempting that, the warlock Gul'dan.
Over the few years since the first war and the loss of Stormwind, Khadgar had learned of the mightiest of the orcish warlocks, one whose power seemed to rival his own in the magical arts. If he was behind this new power, then there was little that Khadgar could do alone to stop the orc. But that was not to say that he could do nothing.
Gathering choice ingredients from the tower, Medivh's apprentice began a spell of scrying, hoping that he might see what the old orc was up to. As the shimmering vision gleamed to life, Khadgar gain a mere flash of insight; the tiniest glimpse, before the orc's presence snuffed out his spell with magic of his own. But what Khadgar saw only confused him all the more. If not for triple checking his spell and the ingredients he used Khadgar would have most assuredly presumed that he had done the spell incorrectly. But it was all there, exactly as the books in Medivh's library had stated that he ought to use.
But that led to far more questions than answer. What in Azeroth was Gul'dan, an orc, which race had come to exterminate humanity and all good things, doing with a human child in his arms? What sinister purpose was the warlock concocting with a child barely older than a toddler? It was clear that the boy was not being sacrificed or killed, if anything it looked like the child was laughing as the orc lifted him.
Could it be that Gul'dan found a child with potential for learning the magical arts, and was training him to be a warlock loyal to the horde as some sort of double agent, possibly to replace Garona, the half orc assassin that had been Khadgar's friend before her disappearance?
It truly did make little sense, and Khadgar was sure how well the Kirin Tor would take to his sudden reappearance and request for their assistance, but they had pledged their support to the Alliance of Lorderon that was making preparations if and when the orcs came northward, so he supposed that this tactic of war would be appropriate for them to investigate.
As Khadgar made his way down to where the Gryphons were nested, he passed by Moroes, the caretaker of the tower. "I'll return soon," he said hastily as he passed, "I need to travel to Dalaran once again."
"Very good sir," Moros replied, albeit looking confused. Khadgar understood why, as he had only just returned from that place days ago.