Death Never Dies

by Milton Garby

  Not yet.

  Leira smiled at her. "Glad to hear it! Now come on, you haven't had lunch yet have you? It's on me."

  Sara sighed, but got up. "Alright. Just - ow! Coming."

  By then the warrior was already at the door, and looked back at her in concern. "You alright?"

  "Yeah. Just my over channeling is finally catching up to me. Walking's gonna suck."

  Her face softened. "Well then take it easy. Skip today's run if you don't feel up to it, we'll wait until you get better."

  Leira, she wanted to say. I'm not going to get better. But she didn't say that. Instead she followed Leira, who went slowly to keep pace with her, out of their guild hall and into the Commons. As they walked, they didn't speak to each other. Sara busied herself with looking around Ironforge, and inspecting how much had changed.

  The strain of the war was finally becoming evident. There was nobody selling bread. Nobody going to auction their wears. Government representatives asking for raw materials lined the walls, and while she didn't have anything useful on her at the moment Sara did falsely promise to give something soon, while quietly tweaking their minds to have improved patience. There was a gloom in the air that, for once, Sara couldn't take comfort in. People's shoulders were slightly slumped, they didn't move so quickly, and the various taverns they passed weren't as boastfully loud as they used to be.

  It was a sickening relief to know she wasn't the only one who understood how dire things were.

  Leira didn't lead her to the Stonefire Tavern. Instead they went to some Gearsprog Inn that had opened up recently, and the draenei swore the cheese there was to die for, if they could buy any before they ran out for the day. They got a table in the homely little building and ordered broth with cheese shredded onto it, as well as some water to drink.

  "So," Leira asked after their meals arrived, but before they dug in. "Now that we pulled you out of that plan, what're you doing for today?"

  She thought about it, blew on her soup, then sighed. "I've got three requests for soul eater enchantments, two warlock glyphs, a priest glyph, and four, ugh, mental integrity enchantments." Those ones were a pain in the ass to make. "You?"

  Leira shrugged. "I've got a few ores to smelt down, afternoon workout, then I have to go to the kitchen, help take inventory of what we've got. That's gonna be my whole day."

  "Hmm," she grunted, taking a spoonful of her soup. It was tolerable, the cheese was well flavored and the spices tickled her nose. She was certain it was reheated though, something about the flavor... "Well, that's a plan at least."

  They continued to eat in a comforting, easy silence. The soup was warm in her stomach, and had Sara's eyes drooping. By the void, when was the last time she'd gotten a good night's sleep? There was her time in the guild, then before that was the Ulduar escapade, and before that being in Nethergarde... probably at one of her stops en route to Silithus, months ago.

  Yikes.

  But sleep would have to wait another day. She had a lot of orders to fill out for her specially made Old God enchantments and glyphs, and they weren't exactly trivial to make even if the ingredients were easily on hand.

  It was to be another busy day, filled with flowing mana, burning eyes, and trembling legs. After her late lunch with Leira, the hours blended into each other, and Sara barely even noticed when she dragged herself into bed at three in the morning and was out like a light.

  She dreamed of the ancient day when the void lords arrived on Azeroth, found the Old Gods, and tried to make copies of them to serve their own goals.

  The next day started off, much to her displeasure, almost exactly the same, except she and Leira didn't have time to get lunch together.

  This was because everyone was called to a guild meeting.

  Sara pushed and shoved through the crowds, dressed casually in a brown dress. Calven was already on the podium, furiously banging his hammer and shield together to try and quiet the guild down. The commotion was deafening. Rings of people talking with each other, individuals wandering about looking for someone to explain why everyone was shouting. The confusion was lovely, but the volume was nauseating. Behind Calven was something that sent a bad feeling straight to her stomach: a map of Stormwind City, large enough for everyone to see it without difficulty. The districts were all laid out in color-code, and giant colored thumbtacks were stuck in various places.

  It wasn't just a picture of Stormwind, it also held the surrounding area of Elwynn, and there was a distressing number of red thumbtacks on the edges of the map. Sara had a fairly good idea of what was happening, but didn't dare voice her thoughts.

  Eventually, by sheer force of will, Calven's clanging caused the roaring crowd to grow quiet. "Settle down, settle down!" he shouted once he could be heard. That was enough to cause complete silence. "Thank you. Now, I've called you all here because of a distressing situation. Stormwind City is going to be attacked by the Legion. Demon forces have broken through Darkshire and are enroute to the city as we speak. The villages in the path have been evacuated and Stormwind's civilians are emptying as we speak, but by now the Legion has probably finished stomping down Goldshire. We'll be coordinating closely with the greater Alliance military, so we'll all have to just shut up and do as we're told."

  Sara's heart jumped into her throat. The Alliance military. The same organization she deliberately deserted to go traipsing around in Ulduar. Suddenly the idea of going up north to help the Dragonflights - as much as she disliked dragons - was looking very appealing. She'd even got a power boost from being in Northrend, atop her old body. She just hoped the military in Stormwind wouldn't look too closely at her...

  Calven continued. "Current estimates place the Legion at arriving here, here, and here," he explained, placing giant red thumbtacks at several points right outside Stormwind. "Choke point at the bridge for the frontal assault is well stocked, but they're short on casters. Those who will be reporting to Major Grambell are as follows." He took out a sheet of paper and began listing names that Sara had come to associate with various mages, warlocks, and so forth.

  Among them was her name. Apparently she was going to be holding against the main onslaught. Good. She had some new spells designed specially for entrenching...

  Calven kept listing other Legion motions and the steps they were taking to oppose them. Most of it went over her head. Things about positioning, the angle of the sun, and various resources Stormwind City had at its disposal. Sara was happy to leave it to someone who understood military strategy. She did understand that there were several locations they feared the Legion would drop infernals, and teams were to be deployed to those locations to deal with them behind the front lines. Leira was among them, while other groups were going to attack the demons' portals and infernal stores directly.

  "One last thing I want to mention. In addition to a pit lord, intel has confirmed that the eredar lord Talgath is leading this strike at Stormwind. Should you come across him, do not engage. Retreat and report his location, but do not engage. Talgath is red skinned, and should be taller than the lesser eredar that've been sighted. Now, we've still some time before we're slated to go out! I want bombs gathered and transported, potions and flasks ready for distribution at the portal, some good hearty meals. If you need any enchants, gems, whatever, get it done now! This message only came in recently, so as of now we all leave in five hours. Dismissed!"

  The rapturous, silent attention everyone paid him burst like a bubble. While the wall of noise washed over the halls, Sara bolted out.

  She reached the armory in record time and threw open the chest given specifically to her. Nobody else was there yet, but she could hear people approaching. Her headband went on right away, as did her gloves and boots. Her robes, belt, staff, and so forth she gathered up in her arms and then she ran to her room. She tossed open the door with a foot and closed it behind her the same way.

  The brown headband already made her mind race, letting her spells be cast even faster. The purple gloves
and boots deepened her mana pool and let her body channel more magic into each spell, and the shards of saronite - cut to look like gems - in the gloves resonated with her very soul to make her stronger still.

  Her robes were wonderful. Dark like the deep sea with patterns of twisted seaweed woven into it. It fit snugly over her body, warm and soft like a well-made bed, to say nothing of how the magical threads amplified her powers even further. Then her belt came on, and then the various bits of jewelry. Last of all was her staff, long and twisted, with a purple tendril wrapped around the top and a spellpower enchantment along its length.

  It all fit her perfectly.

  Once she was fully geared, Sara stood up straight and took a deep, shaky breath.

  Elwynn Forest. The Burning Legion had made it to Elwynn Forest. And Talgath the Inexorable was leading them. She didn't know much about him, but she did know some things.

  He was one of the more powerful eredar lords. From the texts at the academy she'd learned he was put in charge by Kil'jaeden himself to hunt down the draenei. From reading the dreadlord's mind in Grim Batol, she knew he was the one trying to recruit her into the Legion. He was the one who was responsible for filling her head with so much armageddon and flame. She was going to Stormwind. He was going to Stormwind.

  And if someone didn't beat her to it? She was going to bury him in Stormwind.

  She still had some time, and she had plenty of liquid saronite from her trips to the guild bank. Sara had been entertaining some major glyphs for her to use on her spells, and ever since Grim Batol she'd managed to get a good idea in her head of how to do them. Sara flew into her seat and got to work.

  It wasn't smooth work. She kept being interrupted by someone to get one more souleater enchantment, one more Old God glyph, one more something. In between that, however, she managed to squeeze out three glyphs for her personal use, and applied them. No time to check them over for any errors though, so she'd just have to hope she got it right on the first try.

  The first was a glyph for her psychosis beam. She didn't know how many demons she'd be up against, but she needed some effective way to hit multiple targets. Adding a 'forking' effect to the spell would accomplish that well.

  The second would affect the brain link spell. It'd cost more mana, but she had mana to spare. In return, the targets being close to one another would only diminish the spell's effect, instead of removing it entirely.

  And lastly, one to affect her bouncing malady. It wouldn't horrify the victims into screaming and fleeing, but instead of jumping to one target it would jump to two, resulting in a chain reaction.

  These were all effects Yogg-Saron could've done with more power. When it tried to escape Ulduar, it didn't have the power to make the additional effects happen, and Sara didn't have the power or the skill. But she could rely on the glyphs as crutches just this once.

  By the time Sara had gotten her trio of glyphs done, everyone else who needed something from her had come and gone. Judging by the clock in her room, there were only twenty minutes before departure.

  Sara stood in the center of her room, breathing deeply, hands clenched into fists. Stormwind City. The place she had lived for six years. The place she had called home. Even more importantly, it was the capital of the Alliance and if it fell, the consequences would be dire. Her prediction was coming true: Ironforge and Gnomeregan were going to be flanked from the north and south. This was her last chance to actually do something to stop the demons.

  She let out a breath and opened her hands, cupping her fingers. From each finger a ray of purple energy shot into the center of her hands, forming a crackling orb of Old God power. Then she clenched her hands into fists, puffing the magic out like smoke.

  "I can do this," she told herself, trying to calm her trembling. "I can do this. I am confident, brilliant, and powerful. I can do this." Staff affixed to her back, Sara left her room behind and strode through the guild hall with forced confidence. Crowds pushed past her in organized chaos, shouting for another bar of titanium, or some exotic plant, or to make way so that so-and-so could reach their gear.

  Sara pushed past the crowds in return, navigating her way out of the guild hall and into the Military Ward.

  "Oh," she whispered.

  Apparently it wasn't just her guild going to Stormwind. It was packed, and the glistening light of portals dotted the sea of people. Elves and draenei stuck out like sore thumbs, humans and worgen formed a canopy, while dwarves and gnomes formed holes in the sea of people. The air was filled with the roar of indistinct chatter, people pushed and shoved in seemingly random directions, the entire crowd buzzed with nervous energy. If it weren't that they were all so close to her she would've quite enjoyed the scene.

  But she wasn't going to be deterred just by a crowd of idiots. Sara looked for some faces she recognized and shoved her way to them, earning herself a few glares in the process.

  Portals to Stormwind filled the Ward, but a casual glance around revealed that each were to slightly different locations in the city to prevent traffic incidents. She finally arrived at a group of casters from her own guild, huddled around one such portal. She recognized two of the faces from her Grim Batol mission, Saynna and Tarod. They were also geared up, staring intently at the portal. Through it, Sara could see the Trade District of Stormwind, with blue roofs and cobble roads. But that was all she could see, because the other side of the portal was unnervingly... empty.

  Sara waited. Eventually a gnomish man dressed up in bejeweled mage robes strode into the middle of their little group. He looked absolutely ridiculous; green hair, green eyes, green clothes, green rings, green gems... "Alright, everyone here?" They all murmured assent. "Okay, let's go in then. Follow me, I'll lead you all to where we're going," explained, already waddling towards the portal.

  In spite of herself, Sara cracked a grin. Heh. Waddling.

  "Single file!" he shouted. "Chimes of A'dal spellcasters, move!" Then the gnome jumped into the portal.

  They weren't in a line. They were in a vague, amorphous mob of people trying to funnel itself into a line while crowded by all other subsets of all other guilds in the area, to say nothing of the full-blown military presence. They jostled, they pushed, they backed away and insisted for others to go. Sara was exactly the seventeenth person to step into the portal.

  Arcane light wrapped around her and tugged, and suddenly she was falling, then the torrents of arcane magic around her drained from her vision, she lurched upwards, and she arrived in Stormwind.

  It felt like a lifetime since she was last in the capital city. Cobblestone streets thumped beneath her shoes. White brick buildings wrapped around her, with wooden signs advertising an inn, or a tailor, or a cook. The clouds were gray and heavy, but featureless, and the air smelled of imminent rain. But it was eerily silent. No crowds huddled around shops. No corner vendors preaching the merits of their wares. No horses clip-clopping through the streets. No buzzing of noise. Nothing to surprise her, keep her guessing. She hated it with a burning passion.

  The gnome was already running, leading a line behind him. He was headed south east, towards the gates of Stormwind. Sara followed after them, looking around at the scene ahead. As an afterthought, she snapped her fingers and summoned her barrier. Just in case.

  Even from so far away, she could tell the gates were being heavily fortified. Atop the gate's towers were contraptions of metal and wood the size of a drake. She couldn't make it out from her location, but she assumed they were either ballistae or catapults.

  There were more people up ahead. Soldiers clad in glistening white armor. Riflemen with their weapons safely stowed. Boxes filled with supplies, everything from ammunition to water. The gnome lead her and the others up a ramp to where the griffon master for Stormwind used to rest. But now he was gone, with not even the scent of bird to mark that he'd ever been here. Instead, hundreds of archers and casters were gathered up at the windows, staring at the bridge leading into Stormwind.

  Standin
g near the corner was who Sara assumed to be Major Grambell. He was a tall man, built like a bear, with short-cut hair the color of a grizzly's. He was dressed head to toe in elaborate armor, painted gold and polished to look like the sun even in dreary environments. His helmet was current resting on the ground by his feet as he shouted orders to various subordinates, telling them to switch places or to move stores of food and water here and there. Sara let her attention wander while the gnome approached him, and found herself staring out the windows.

  The entrance to Stormwind was unrecognizable. She could see cauldrons of unknown contents poised to drop down onto approaching demons. The bridge was littered with metal barricades, which were barbed on all ends. The water around the bridge wasn't drained, though if she looked closely she thought she saw something moving under the surface. Even the statues of various heroes were cracked at the base, though it wouldn't be visible from the front. Sara could only wonder what signal would make them topple onto the demons.

  At the gates, soldiers clad in armor were ready with colossal shields. Marksman were higher up for good aim. At the windows, such as where Sara was, spellcasters and archers huddled behind metal barriers, ready to send fire and fury screaming down at the bridge and then duck behind cover.

  It was an impressive defense. It was a good defense. It might even be a good enough defense, especially if strike teams were already looking to sabotage the Legion camps.

  Orders were shouted, and Sara was jostled into place between two mages of no importance. She focused her attention on the gates, then beyond them.

  There was smoke in the distance. Putrid and black, rising from an unseen location and blending seamlessly into the clouds. She judged the smoke - and with it, the demons - was a few hours away, but it'd be getting closer and closer with each passing minute. Hundreds, thousands, even millions of demons would come pouring into Stormwind in an attempt to raze it to the ground. She could only imagine the damage they'd done to the rest of Elwynn. And even if they could hold off the lesser demons individually, quantity had a certain quality of its own.