“We did it, Sahtra,” Mori exclaimed as she ran up to him, “you’re okay!” The young blood elf burst into sobs. “I…I was so worried.”
The death knight smiled and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Good job, little one,” he praised her.
Out of the corner of her eye, Mori noticed the (now conscious) vrykul reach for his jaded longsword and approach the undead Spirit Twister. She turned her head to him and called out.
“Wait! Halvor, what are you doing? That’s—”
Mori fell silent as she watched the large warrior deliver three clean blows and cut down the undead zandalari troll. For several moments, she stood there, gaping in a mixture of confusion and anger.
“WHY?” The young blood elf ran over to Halvor and stared at him. “WHY DID YOU DO THAT?”
The vrykul calmly sheathed his longsword and replied, “I do not take chances, small child. Did you not just hear mean voice? How we will be trampled by thousand foot army? We do not know what this creature is capable of. So, I will not take risk.”
“Foolish,” the death knight muttered, “he doesn’t know what he’s done.”
Mori clenched her fists, glaring at the warrior with burning green eyes. “That undead was under MY control. I would NOT use him against you!”
“NO CHANCES,” Halvor roared back. He turned away from the young blood elf and added, “child.”
Mori angrily stomped off to the southern end of the ruins, away from the rest of the party, and silently paced back and forth.
“Good!” Vel’rosh walked up to Halvor with a smile on his green face. “You can’t trust any of the undead,” he spoke as he unsheathed his greatsword, glaring at the death knight. Sahtra frowned.
“You’d be wise to put that away before I erase you from existence,” he spoke calmly. He had no desire to fight the orc in his wounded state. Sheathing his axe, the death knight walked over to Mori, who was still angrily muttering to herself. Vel’rosh eagerly followed.
“I think it is time your evil is purged from this world. You and the undead are terrible creatures that must all be slain,” he spat out, “filth!” Mori stopped and stared at the paladin.
Sahtra turned around and motioned at the corpse of the undead troll. “This so-called evil saved you. If you wish to pursue this approach with me, I assure you, I won’t grant you the blessing of death. Your soul will be enslaved and tortured for an eternity.” The human stood as firmly as he could and looked the other in the eye. “Sheath your weapon, and walk away, orc.” The death knight turned back to Mori and knelt beside her.
“Are you all right, little one?” Sahtra asked with concern.
The young blood elf clenched her fists, her eyes burning furiously.
“The undead was under my control,” she growled as tears of frustration welled up in her eyes, “I would not use it on anyone! It was taken away from me!”
Vel’rosh roared in anger behind the death knight. “You. Must. DIE!”
Sahtra ignored him and continued speaking to Mori. “I’m aware, child,” he responded, “the others have no understand of how undeath works.”
Mori looked at the death knight, her eyes pleading. “I’m trying to do my best. I want to use my magic for good, but no one trusts me!”
“CHILD,” Vel’rosh bellowed, “LEAVE NOW!”
“It seems the orc is still coming for me, little one,” Sahtra glanced over his shoulder at the approaching paladin, “despite me telling him to leave.” He stood up and unsheathed his axe.
“Sahtra, don’t do this now,” Mori begged as she grabbed his cloak and held it tightly, “I can’t lose you. You’re the only one I can trust,” she looked at the floor and continued, “and you’ve helped me so much.”
The death knight sighed and placed a hand on the young warlock’s shoulder. “I have no other course of action, child,” and turned around to face the orc. Vel’rosh licked his lips and marched quickly over to Sahtra as he raised his sword into the air, ready to strike down.
“No, please wait!” Mori called out in one last effort to stop the fight from starting, “Vel’rosh, what are you doing?” It was too late.
Vel’rosh let out a blood-chilling cry, emulating the notorious leader of the Warsong Clan, as he jumped into the air with his greatsword held high. Sahtra moved to the right just in time for him to dodge the blow and swung out with his cursed axe. The orc bent over backwards as he watched the blade slice the air in front of his eyes. The death knight moved back and glared at the paladin, breathing heavily as he attempted to recover his strength. The other returned his gaze and brought his sword back in front of him.
“Stop, you two!” cried out Halvor, “battle not meant to happen!”
The orc grunted and charged at his opponent, landing two hits on Sahtra, too fatigued to move out of the way in time. The death knight groaned as the wounds on his arms reopened, and dark red blood trickled down his armor, the droplets staining the grass below him. He stood back up and gripped the cursed axe Shin’ka.
“Enough!” The vrykul ran up to the orc and pushed him away from the human. The young blood elf saw this as an opportunity and planted herself in between Sahtra and Vel’rosh, who still stood behind Halvor.
The wounded death knight frowned at Mori. “Move, child,” he commanded.
“No!” Mori exclaimed, her arms held out at both sides, “he’s going to kill you!”
Kill me? Sahtra thought to himself, No. She is mistaken. I will emerge the victor of this battle, with the orc’s soul as my trophy.
The death knight shuffled several paces to his right until he could see the orc clearly. He held out his hand and, much to the disappointment of the vrykul, curled his fingers into a fist, pulling the paladin over to himself. Vel’rosh struck Sahtra with a powerful blow from his greatsword and subsequently smote the death knight with a blast of holy energy.
“No more fight!” Halvor yelled as he threw himself onto the paladin, grappling Vel’rosh to the ground. “This is not why we are here!” The vrykul nodded at Meechi, who darted over to the death knight and grabbed his leg. She threw a potion into the air and shouted “Teleport!” as the two disappeared from their current location and reappeared on the other side of the encampment.
Sahtra held out his palm, and a skull-shaped shade followed by a trail of unholy energy rushed towards Vel’rosh. Halvor blocked most of the impact with his massive body, and the same fate befell the subsequent blast the death knight sent out. Damn the vrykul and damn the fox, Sahtra glared at Meechi, they’re only getting in my way. If they hadn’t intervened, the paladin would be dead by now.
Vel’rosh, still pinned under the grasp of the vrykul, turned to Mori. Their eyes locked, and he felt the fury emanating from the young blood elf’s glare. What have you done, they called to him angrily, is this what you wanted?
“By the Light,” Vel’rosh whispered, “what have I done? I let my bloodlust overcome me.” The orc turned to the vrykul as tears welled up in his eyes. “I…I lay down my weapon,” the paladin spoke through sobs, “I will not fight any longer.”
Halvor nodded. “Very good. We can now end battle between you and—WHAT ARE YOU DOING?”
The vrykul turned his head to speak to Sahtra only to see that he had broken free of Meechi’s grasp and was headed towards the orc, his cursed axe raised above him.
“Finish what you started,” the death knight spat out, his voice as tattered as his armor, “COWARD!”
The alchemist attempted to throw out a sedative potion but fell short.
“NO MORE IS NO MORE!” Halvor picked up his longsword and struck the death knight on the side of his helm. “Fight is over.” Sahtra crumpled to the ground and lay motionless. With a cry, Mori ran over to him and placed her small hands on one of his arms, frantically searching for signs of life.
“He is not dead, small child,” spoke Halvor gruffly, “but fighting has to stop.” He produced some rope from his pack and began tying the death knight’s hands behind his back. The vrykul placed additional rope around Sahtra’s torso and legs, rendering him immobile should he regain consciousness.
“Light forgive me,” Vel’rosh muttered, and uttered a prayer. He waited for the familiar warmth of the Light to wash over him and grant him peace, but nothing would come. The orc stood on his feet and looked around frantically as if searching for something. No, he thought to himself, it cannot be. It must not have heard me.
“HOLY LIGHT, I BESEECH YOU,” The paladin stood, his head turned towards the sky and his arms raised as he called out, “GRANT ME YOUR FORGIVENESS SO THAT I MAY SERVE YOU.”
Halvor turned to Vel’rosh and watched as the orc stood in disbelief, tears streaming down his dull brown eyes. Whatever he was struggling with, it wasn’t quite the vrykul’s concern. Halvor finished tying Sahtra up and picked him up, placing him on one shoulder.
“I have restrained death knight,” the large warrior motioned to the orc with his spare hand, “Let us go back to village. Then these two can talk out issues.”
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