“You’re sure its Forsaken?” snarled the worgen hunter as he leaned into the personal space of the considerably smaller Watcher Backus.
“Uh, yes, sir, we believe so, sir” stammered an intimidated Backus.
“Believe or know?” growled the hunter.
“Well – been undead trouble here for a long while but these ones – well they uh, laughed at our patrol and told us to leave” responded Backus in a sheepish tone.
“And your men just, left?” asked the hunter, visibly bewildered.
“Well – we aren’t exactly equipped to deal with Horde military, that’s why we hired you” replied Backus, annoyed.
The worgen hunter laughed and rolled his eyes,
“Mhm. Ten of your men with us – we’ll teach them how to make sure the dead stay down” said the hunter, walking into Darkshire’s town circle and letting out an ear-piercing howl.
In response two different worgen emerged from the brush and flanked their commander on either side as the men and women of the Night Watch courageously argued amongst themselves over who would join their hired saviors. After five or so minutes of very judgmental stares from three impatient worgen, ten men and ten horses were assembled and faced the western road. With practiced precision the three worgen fell on all fours and bolted down the road. The Night’s Watch took off after them immediately, their horses struggling to keep pace.
This was a clever enough place for the Forsaken to hide. This cursed land had plenty of undead vermin skittering about it. Even experienced hunters could easily lose their scent with so many other shambling bags of rot to mask it. But this hunter had honed skill in tracking their kind. A skill earned with fang and claw first in Gilneas and later in many a battlefield across Azeroth. If there were Forsaken here, he’d find and destroy them.
Sure enough not an hour had passed when the telltale whiff of that uniquely Forsaken odor had graced his nostrils. To many this would be a vile smell but in him it only inspired a lust for battle. He let out a howl and abruptly changed course, diverting from the road and into the woods with the other two worgen while the Night Watch inexpertly halted their steeds and course corrected. The hunter was zeroing in now. If he was lucky, he’d catch them unawares and end it in seconds. If not, he could provide a distraction while –
“You’re a long way from home, Gilnean” said a voice from somewhere in the dark.
The hunter immediately halted and sprung up on two legs, readying his rifle as he did. His two companions followed suit almost in unison. The hunter narrowed his eyes and peered into the darkness. The scent seemed to be all around him.
“You know it’s dangerous to be out in these woods after dark” said the voice.
The worgen hunter bared his fangs, realizing it was coming from within his own mind. At this moment the militiamen from the Night Watch finally caught up, it not quite dawning on them that something was wrong.
“SHOW YOURSELF MONSTERS!” howled the worgen hunter.
“I am here, mortal” replied a voice as a Forsaken brandishing a scythe and clad in the armored robes of a field apothecary stepped from behind a tree.
The worgen hunters immediately opened fire at the Forsaken. The bullets passed through him harmlessly as he faded into a non-corporeal form while gliding toward the hunters.
“AND I BRING YOUR END!” thundered the apothecary, punctuating his threat with a psychic screech.
The veteran worgen felt the void energy inducing intense despair but shrugged off the urge to panic. The Night Watch however, and more specifically their horses, were not as accustomed to weathering psychic attacks. The Night Watch’s steeds all reared up in fear, tossing their riders and galloping off in all directions. This chaotic symphony of screaming and neighs was suddenly accompanied by the sound of shifting earth as Forsaken soldiers began bursting from the ground around them. The hunters spun around, looking for a path of retreat just in time to notice a massive shape descending from the night’s sky. A Forsaken plaguebat landed with a loud thud at their only exit. It let out a blood curdling cry that caused the Night Watchmen, still recovering from their sudden forced dismount, to crabwalk backwards to safety.
The worgen hunter growled and spun back to the apothecary with the intention of taking at least one of these horrors down with him. Before he could fire his rifle, he was met with a forceful strike from the blunt end of the apothecary’s scythe. The hunter collapsed to the ground. With blurry vision and ringing ears he watched helplessly as the Forsaken forced both his worgen and the Night Watchmen to their knees, holding blades to their throats or rifles to their backs. The hunter felt the dull edge of the scythe pressing against his neck and directing his gaze upward.
“The audacity of the Alliance never ceases to astonish. Do you not see this place? The dark is our realm, the grave our throne!” hissed the apothecary as he leaned into the worgen with such force that the beak of his helmet pricked the hunter’s snout.
“What are you waiting for? End it!” grunted the worgen hunter in defeat.
The apothecary stood straight and began levitating, observing his capture.
“I will tell you what, worgen, you and your pack leave this place. Return to Stormwind, report this matter as successfully concluded, and never return.” replied the apothecary.
“What of the humans?” asked the worgen hunter wearily.
“They will make fine additions to Her army; you are useless to us in that regard and may leave, tail betwixt legs” responded the apothecary.
“The difference between you and us is that we would NEVER abandon our allies!” snarled the worgen hunter.
“As you wish” started the apothecary with a shrug “Executor Holmstein, skin them. Start with the female and do be sure to flay them alive – we don’t want them shifting back, those pelts are quite valuable” he added.
A Forsaken in plate armor about thrice the size of the others marched over and effortlessly lifted the female worgen up with one arm while readying a massive great sword in the other.
“WAIT! NO!” cried the worgen hunter.
The apothecary waved his hand and the massive Deathguard released the worgen.
“You… you monsters… I’ll… I’LL KILL YOU BEFORE THIS WAR IS OVER!” roared the worgen, the fury in his shaking voice ringing hollow.
The apothecary cackled before exploding into a void form.
“THE UNDEAD FEAR NOTHING, DOG!” screeched the apothecary both verbally and within their heads as errant void bolts flied from him, blasting chunks off of nearby trees.
The three worgen took to all fours and shot out through a line made in the Forsaken soldiers without pause. The apothecary then shifted back to his normal form and ceased levitating. He tapped his foot for a few seconds before looking upwards at a tree and speaking in the Forsaken tongue.
“Are they gone?” asked the apothecary.
“Yep – due north towards Elywyn. Fel an’ I thought all bark and no bite was just an expression.” replied a Forsaken deadshot as he dropped from the tree, still trailing the fleeing worgen hunters with the scope on his rifle.
“Thank Light for that. These damn masks really weigh on the neck after a while. Waited on those idiots for three hours.” said Benedikt, the apothecary, removing his helmet and loudly cracking his neck.
Stanton, the deadshot, shrugged and slung his rifle over his back while reaching for a cigar and a match.
“Well, how’d I do?” asked Benedikt relaxing his shoulders.
“Far as I’m concerned ya’ll lab spooks always meaner than two fat kids fightin’ over the last slice of cake. But ‘em boys over there look ‘bout ready to paint their britches brown” said Stanton gesturing over to the collection of Night Watchmen still primed for execution.
Benedikt rolled his eyes and waved his hand. His Graveguard sheathed and holstered their weapons but remained close to each prisoner. Benedikt eyed the ten men from left to right. One by one they shivered as they felt an unnatural presence passing through their minds. Benedikt approached the Watchmen, taking particular interest in one towards the middle who barely fit in his armor. Couldn’t be much older than fourteen, at most. Benedikt felt a twinge of sympathy, remembering his own less than pleasant time spent that age as a squire in the Second War. He wandered over to the boy and looked him in his eyes.
“Do your parents know you’re out here?” inquired Benedikt in common.
The boy fell prostrate and began sobbing uncontrollably while creating a puddle of his own treacherous bladder’s making. Benedikt sighed and waved a hand over the kid. A pulse of warming light magic washed over the teenager and melted the dread away.
“No… no sir. I’m just supposed to make sure the lanterns are fueled but none of the other militiamen were brave enough to follow the worgen. I wanted to” began the young Night Watchmen.
“Tsk, tsk, tsk. There’s bravery, boy, and then there’s just plain stupidity” said Benedikt with a chuckle while helping the Night Watchmen up to his feet.
Benedikt clasped his hands together and blasted the assembled Night Watchmen with a fount of healing magic, mending whatever damage was incurred from being thrown from their horses.
“Let us remember that it is always better to be lucky than smart. For today you are all very lucky, and your stupidity will not be the end of you. For now, at least. You’re going to return home. You’re going to inform your commander that this mission was a great success. You routed us and the worgen chased after the survivors. Figure the rest of the details out on your own – make it sound as impressive as possible for the girls in the tavern I really do not care” began Benedikt before shaking his head “My mistake – nine of you will be going home”.
The brief but pulpable relief of the Night Watchmen twisted back into the cold dread they’d been stewing in all night.
“Only nine sir? But there’s ten of us” said the youngest, still too elated from Benedikt’s previous spell to worry about the implication of the apothecary’s words.
“Indeed. I do regret to inform you that you’ve a criminal in your ranks. I am sorry if any of you became friendly with him but trust me if you saw what I did you’d likely agree with my verdict” said Benedikt.
The Night Watchmen gave a quizzical look at the apothecary before exchanging glances with each other. All but one, who averted his eyes entirely. Benedikt glided over to this Watchmen and gave a wide grin. The others, now noticing for the first time just how sharp the Forsaken’s teeth were, backed up slightly.
“So, the Stormwind Guard caught wind of what you were doing with those street kids, hmm? Thought you might come out here and lay low till the war distracted resources and forced the case closed?” said Benedikt knowingly.
“I have no idea what you’re” started the Watchman before he was raked across the face by Benedikt’s claws.
The Watchman fell to one knee, blood pouring from the lacerations and pooling at his feet, he looked up at the apothecary pleadingly.
“Please – no – you don’t understand!” he begged.
“You should have stayed – scum like you thrives in the stockades. Out here though there is but the justice of the grave” hissed Benedikt as void tendrils manifested and jerked the man to his feet.
“NO! NO! SOMEONE HELP! PLEASE! MERCY! MERRAGUGGLL” the Watchmen cries devolved into wet gurgles as Benedikt’s teeth plunged into his throat.
Benedikt tore a lump of flesh from his victim with such violence that a geyser of blood sprayed the Watchman to his left, eliciting a frightened shriek. Benedikt maintained eye contact with the terrified Watchmen as he chewed and swallowed most of a throat. Benedikt then gestured with his hand and the void tendrils flung the dying Watchman into a nearby tree before dissipating.
“Now. The rest of you will be going home. You will be doing as I said. You will no longer notice us, because we are already gone, just as you reported. As it stands, we have no ill will towards Darkshire or it’s residents. Do not make me change my mind” said Benedikt, gesturing to the crumpled, broken corpse of their apparently degenerate former comrade.
“Will do sir. No trouble from you, no trouble from us” said the youngest Night Watchmen with a thumbs up, being the only one capable of producing more than a terrified squeak.
“Excellent. Then you are all welcome to leave” Benedikt said.
The plaguebat took a few steps back to create a wide gap for the Night Watchmen to exit through. They all immediately ran for the road, with one dragging the boy by the arm who was still in a more casually stroll away sort of mood. Benedikt chuckled and then twirled around to address the Graveguard.
“Well done everyone! I think that calls for an early day, yeah? You’re all dismissed just be sure to return here by nightfall tomorrow. Oh! Someone chop up that pervert and add it to the stew before you go. Some fresh meat ought to spice up the rations. Was getting damn tired of ghoul.” proclaimed Benedikt.
The Graveguard all assumed a casual position and began milling about while a magus started conjuring a portal to Orgrimmar. Holmstein wandered over to the dead Watchman and began loudly chopping him into literal pieces. Benedikt raised a finger and was about to explain to the Forsaken Vrykul that he should remove the armor first before deciding that it wasn’t worth the effort. He then glided to the plaguebat and embraced the slavering warbeast’s colossal head.
“And you did an excellent job Heidi! Just like we practiced! You’ll get a full gnome when we get home tonight!” cooed Benedikt.
“Well,” started Stanton as he sauntered up to Benedikt “Don’t think them hummies will be needin’ to hear it twice. But what of ‘em wolf boys? Doubt they’ll keep their jaw shut”.
“Oh, they will. For a time at least. They have a reputation to protect. But pride is an insidious thing. I give it a week or so till their ‘alpha’ gets liquored up and starts ranting about the devious machinations of the Forsaken in Duskwood” replied Benedikt, still petting his plaguebat.
“Well, what happens then boss?” inquired Stanton, taking a drag from his cigar.
“Stage one of Operation Crypt Cage can now be considered complete, High Executor Creed” Benedikt said with a smirk while hopping onto Heidi’s saddle.
“Guess I ought to start stockin’ up on the incendiary rounds then” said Stanton as he began wandering off to the portal.
“Indeed – enjoy the time off, there’s considerable work to be done very soon” concluded Benedikt as Heidi stretched her wings and took off into the night’s sky toward Redridge.