“Moldmane must be here somewhere,” Meechi whispered as the travelers once again reached the catacombs at the bottom of Stormwind and started for the exit to the cavern. Her ears stood at end as she heard a familiar gruff voice in the distance.

 

“This should do it! Ha!”

 

“That was him,” the vulpera pointed to the left, “he’s in that direction.”

 

The travelers continued quietly making their way towards the excited chattering of the gnoll, still unaware that he was being followed. Every few minutes, he complimented himself on the ingenuity of his schemes and let out a chilling laugh, followed by a fit of wheezing and subsequent clearing of the throat.

 

“Finally. I’m almost done,” the gnoll let out a cackle, “soon, they will be trapped—”

 

“STOP HIM!”

 

Moldmane, Captain of The Stray Dogs, turned sharply around at the shrill voice of one of his former subordinates. He could barely make Meechi out among the group of travelers before getting pulled away by Sahtra and suffering a blow to the head from Halvor. The groggy gnoll growled as he looked up at the vrykul and blinked several times as his eyes rested upon the vulpera.

 

“So. You are captain.” Halvor spoke. “We have many question for you, dog pirate.”

 

Moldmane snarled, baring his sharp teeth. “I don’t have to entertain you with answers.”

 

“What are you doing, Captain?” Meechi pleaded, “What is this all about?”

 

“A clueless vulpera like you without ambitions would never understand.” He snapped in return.

 

“What—”

 

“Once I’m done with you and your friends over here,” the gnoll waved his hand as he stood up, “I will travel the real Azeroth with my prized possession and tell the tales of how countless nations fell to me in this alternate world.” He looked past her for a moment, seemingly reliving the supposed glory of his exploits. “I will travel to the leader of each race. Every. Single. Race, Meechi. And,” he held up an index finger as one who was about to make a crucial point in an argument, “once they hear of my power, they will either submit to me, or fall to the power of the artifact.”

 

The vulpera’s jaw dropped. “This is what you want? The destruction of the world?” She blinked several times in disbelief. “Why don’t you just demand money? You could live a comfortable life if you wanted to!”

 

“Because, little fox,” Moldmane walked up to Meechi and looked down at her, “I will teach Azeroth a lesson about pirates. I will show them that we are not just a little group of mindless scoundrels and crooks who pillage and steal. No,” he turned around, pacing back and forth, “I will show them that we are much more intelligent and powerful than they’d ever imagined, that we are to be feared!”

 

“No race will want to serve under you.”

 

“Fine with me,” spat the gnoll, “I have no issues wiping them all out.”

 

“But if you do,” Meechi countered, “then who will be left to hear of your exploits? To “fear” you, as you claim?”

 

Moldmane stopped in his tracks. “What?”

 

“If they’re all dead,” the vulpera took slow steps up to the captain, “then what’s the point of fame? No one will know you who are in the end anyway!”

 

The gnoll stood silently for a moment, clearly flustered.

 

“Well?” Meechi stared intently at the captain, who feigned a cough as he turned his head away.

 

“You see…it’s all…part of the plan, ahem,” Moldmane turned back and held his hands out to his side, “it’s to teach them a lesson, you see? When they’re all dead, I will bring them back to life, easy! That’ll show them who’s—”

 

“Foolish gnoll,” cut in the death knight, “you don’t know what kind of power you would be dealing with.”

 

“Nonsense!” the gnoll marched up to Sahtra, “I am invincible, you see? This artifact lets me do everything! EVERYTHING!” With that cry, he ran quickly back to the pedestal upon which the titan artifact had been mounted. “I wasted my time talking to you idiots,” he mumbled, adjusting several knobs, “I should have done this step more quickly before you pests got in my way!”

 

“We can’t let him use the artifact!” Meechi exclaimed. “Our world is in danger!”

 

“Just try to stop me, you useless fox!” Moldmane yapped. “You will all fail!”

 

Mori stood firmly, her legs at shoulders’ width, and brought her arms apart as a large ball of green blight formed between them. The more she used this spell, the better she cast it, and therefore the more powerful it became. With a thrust of her arms, she sent the large destructive orb at the gnoll, knocking him over and pushing him back several feet. Moldmane attempted to get back up but a cry of “Shadow Bolt!” from the young necromancer sent a jolt of dark lightning from the palm of her undead summon to the gnoll. It struck him cleanly on the head, and he stumbled once again.

 

“Well, well, well,” Moldmane sneered as he stood up and licked his lips, “the child thinks she’s strong, eh?” The gnoll picked up a teal-silver colored bow from the ground next to him, and a quiver of ghostly arrows appeared behind his back.

 

“Not even Tyrande Whisperwind, one of the most powerful mortals on this earth, could stop me with the power of the artifact on my side.” He let out an ugly laugh that sounded like a wheeze, then snarled as his voice shifted into an angry tone, “and I will let you taste her arrows so that you may learn that lesson for yourself!”

 

Before anyone could react, Moldmane quickly shot out three arrows that struck Mori in her limbs and chest. Upon penetration, the arrows faded, leaving behind deep wounds that began to bleed profusely. The young blood elf wore no armor and thus had to take the full force of the impact. She slumped over, breathing heavily.

 

Halvor turned his head towards the back of the enclosure and squinted.

 

“Is small child dead?”

 

Meechi quickly ran over to the young warlock and checked her vitals. “No,” the alchemist answered, “but the arrows almost killed her.” Mori stared back at the vulpera in pain, unable to talk. Meechi took out a large empty vial and mixed the contents from two potions into it. She lifted Mori’s head and spoke as she held the vial up to the young blood elf’s lips, “Here, drink this.”

 

Mori gulped down the concoction, and it tasted sweet to her parched and bloodied mouth. Strength slowly returned to her, and she was finally able to sit up. The young necromancer handed the empty vial back to the alchemist and whispered feebly, “Thank you.” She stood back onto her feet and glanced in the direction of the death knight as the vulpera ran back to her previous position. Mori could not decipher the expression, for all she saw were Sahtra’s blue eyes glowing furiously from behind the skull-shaped helm. I think he’s worried about me, she thought to herself, and allowed a nervous smile onto her face. I’m okay, she wanted to tell him. The death knight nodded once and turned back to their enemy.

 

* * * * *

 

That titan artifact is a damn nuisance, Sahtra thought, and as long as it is in the hands of the gnoll, this battle will consume unnecessary time and energy. The death knight took slow, heavy steps up to the pedestal upon which the artifact stood.

 

Moldmane turned his head sharply towards the approaching human. “Hey, what are you doing—”

 

Before he could finish his question, Sahtra shot out a ray of ice from his gloved left palm and locked the gnoll into place. He closed his fist, and a chain violently shot out and coiled itself around Moldmane. The death knight reached the pedestal a few steps later and silently studied the artifact. It reminded him of strange devices he had seen created by the gnomes and goblins, with a lot of buttons and dials. He placed his gloved hand on the main box and saw that it was warm to the touch and ticked ever so quietly.

 

The largest dial on the artifact piqued Sahtra’s interest. It had two options, red and green, with the current position of the dial set in the middle, which he assumed meant “neutral” or “off”. Curious to see what the artifact could do, the death knight began turning the dial towards the green indicator and observed a green wave of energy slowly seeping out of the artifact and beginning to surround his body.

 

“What is it, Sahtra,” Meechi called out, “can you see anything?”

 

The death knight looked behind him at the vulpera, who stood intently staring at the titan artifact, puzzled. It appears she cannot see anything, he mused, the titan artifact makes its power known only to those who command this device. Sahtra frowned and began turning the dial back towards the red indicator. The green glow disappeared and in its place appeared a red beam exiting one of the holes in the artifact. The death knight followed the path of the glowing beam first to Halvor, who had a red aura surrounding his body. The vrykul could not see it, however, and Sahtra grinned as he realized this. He kept turning the dial and the beam extended through Halvor to Meechi, whose body also became enveloped in a red glow. This put a wider grin on the death knight’s face as he moved the dial further to the left. It would certainly cause them harm! Sahtra thought to himself gleefully about the possibilities. It serves them right for treating me the way they do when all I have done is look out for their safety. But they say I am the evil one? We’ll see about that, hah! The death knight eagerly watched the red auras around the warrior and alchemist intensify and continued turning the dial. Almost there, he thought to himself with a maniacal grin, then his fingers froze.

 

Just before he clicked the dial all the way to the red indicator, the beam finally passed through Meechi and onto Mori, who was standing directly behind the vulpera several paces away. No, not the child. Sahtra would have liked nothing more than to humble the vrykul and the vulpera, but not at the expense of the young blood elf. True, her soul was already successfully bound to her phylactery, but he had decided he would not let her taste death in this manner. The ticking had grown louder, and the artifact began to rattle, seemingly only seconds left before it malfunctioned.

 

She saved them, he thought to himself bitterly, and violently turned the dial all the way back to the green indicator. A button next to the dial began to flash, and Sahtra pressed it before he could even consider changing his mind. The green glow reappeared, this time brighter, and encased the death knight in a bubble. This his traveling companions could see, for he heard their simultaneous expressions of surprise and awe.

 

“Oh, cool,” the vulpera exclaimed with wonder, “it makes a shield!” She would never know.

 

“No, no, NO!” Moldmane yelled out, his hands clasped to his head, horrified, as he stared at the titan artifact. Mori, Meechi, Halvor, and Sahtra all followed the gnoll’s gaze to the item, which had begun to shake vigorously and give off smoke. A few moments later, a puff of flame burst from the artifact and dissipated, leaving behind an obviously broken piece of machinery.

 

“What have you…DONE?” the gnoll yelled at Sahtra furiously, “its power was meant to be MINE and mine ALONE!” He pulled out several other swords and axes and struck at the death knight, but in vain, for the green shield blocked each and every attack Moldmane could throw at him. Sahtra grinned smugly and, with a wave of his arm, sent the gnoll to the floor, his legs caught in thick crystals of ice.

 

“This should go much more quickly, now, shouldn’t it?” the death knight asked rhetorically, satisfied. With Moldmane prone on the ground and the titan artifact disabled, he could easily be finished off. Sahtra slowly walked up to the frightened creature, his cloak dragging along the ground without a sound, and stared at him with his glowing blue eyes.

 

“Bid your last farewell to this world,” the death knight spoke as he grinned widely, “and any others you thought you could conquer,” and the last thing Moldmane saw was Sahtra’s cursed axe coming down on him.

​

* * * * *

​

“I…I will call Wrathion!”

 

Mori looked intently around the group. At no sign of objection from the others, she picked up the dragon’s communication device and pressed the button. The young blood elf eagerly waited for him to pick up.

 

“Hello?” The voice at the other end sounded mildly surprised.

 

“Hey Wrathion, it’s us!” Mori frowned as she heard an exasperated sigh come through the communication device.

 

“I assume, then, you have successfully secured the titan artifact?”

 

Mori eyed the large construct in Sahtra’s and Vel’rosh’s arms and paused for a moment to marvel at how the two former enemies were now working together in harmony.

 

“Yeah, we have it.”

 

“Took you long enough, child!” The dragon exclaimed loudly, “I’ve been waiting here for two weeks for your return. This has been an utter waste of my precious time!”

 

“Two weeks?” Mori’s eyes went wide with surprise. “It’s only been five hours!”

 

Wrathion muttered to himself for a few moments. It appeared time operated differently in the caverns; he would have to take this into account next time he sent travelers off on a mission thereabouts. He sighed again and replied to Mori.

 

“Well then, hurry on back. I will be at the same location where we first met.”

 

The young blood elf opened her mouth to reply but clamped it shut as she realized the connection had gone silent. He had hung up without saying goodbye! she thought to herself as she rolled her eyes.

 

“Okay,” she spoke to the group, “I guess we’re going back to Wrathion.”

 

* * * * *

 

“Dragon,” Sahtra called out, “We have arrived.”

 

After a moment’s delay, the Black Prince strolled out the tent and up to the death knight and vrykul who were holding the massive titan artifact. He bent down and examined it closely.

 

“Hmm, it appears to be intact.” Wrathion held out his hand and brushed over the case and dials. He nodded, satisfied. “You may put it down.” As he stood back up, he snapped his fingers, and two men clothed in black from head to toe emerged from the tent carrying a large chest. The Black Prince raised his hand, and the men placed it at his feet.

 

“As promised, your reward.” He stood back, and one of the men opened the lid to reveal a large sum of gold and numerous glittering stones. “Here are some of the finest jewels in Pandaria, now yours.”

 

Sahtra bent down to inspect the stones. He took a blue one in his gloved hand, rotating it around, and then held it up to the sunlight to inspect the cuts.

 

“Pristine jewels indeed, dragon,” the death knight remarked, and Wrathion nodded in response.

 

“What am I supposed to do with a jewel though?” Mori muttered as she fidgeted with a green stone. She found little utility in money and other items she could not use for crafting or spell casting.

 

“An easy answer, little one,” Sahtra replied. “It is not the jewel you use, but the money you make from selling it. One of these could get you a nicer robe, a new staff to enhance your spells, or even a large supply of crafting materials.” He noticed Mori’s eyes widen at the prospect of new resources and chuckled as he watched her glowing green eyes hop from one jewel to the other. No doubt she was counting how many precious stones the chest contained.

 

“That’s better, isn’t it?” he asked, and the young necromancer nodded in response, satisfied.

 

“There is one other thing,” Wrathion spoke, “as much as it bothers me to do it since you took so long,” ignoring Mori’s protesting face, “I will grant you a request within my power.”

 

Sahtra stood up to his full height. “There is one thing, dragon.” The Black Prince turned his head to the human death knight. “Yes, what is it?” he inquired.

 

“I wish to know the whereabouts of the mogu necromancer who has been wreaking havoc among the villagers,” Sahtra replied, “I would like to speak to him.”