Ever since their arrival to the Capital City, the nerubian delegation has been ‘encouraged’ not to leave the lodgings provided to them due to the simple fact that most of the native humans found their kind to be unsettling, like most on the surface did. That and the fact of news of Stormwind’s destruction due to a monstrous army led to the local ruler believing that the best way to avoid panic among his subjects assuming the worst was to keep them away from the peasantry as much as possible.
Masruk cared little for all this.
Sure Capital City was new and impressive, but honestly, after a quick look it wasn’t very interesting in his mind. What stood out to him were its walls, its warriors, its weapons, and all manner of military inclined things. He came to guard and learn, not to socialize.
He was a Warrior of Azjol-Nerub. He’d leave matters regarding the non-nerubians to his friend, Krivax. He had a knack for it after all.
Instead, while not on duty, and with permission from his superiors, he did what he did when he was among the tuskarr. He sought to spar and learn among the native warriors, to see how they fought in case they ever came into conflict, and learn how to improve his own fighting ability. And just maybe he would bond among the warriors here as he did back home, something that was surprising but pleasant all the same.
Masruk liked bonding with those he could connect with, Krivax being his friend ever since they were hatchlings.
Thus he sought the warriors of these lands, these humans who covered themselves in metal exoskeletons not unlike how the greatest Warriors and Spiderlords of Azjol-Nerub did. These ‘Knights of the Realm’ as they called themselves.
His attempts to partake in friendly spars with them were… not as successful as with the tuskarr.
They were flighty and nervous of him at the best of times, even after their king gave his permission to spar with him. The tuskarr needed little convincing of his intentions after getting to know him, but it seems the humans of these lands were a bit more paranoid.
Masruk supposed it wasn’t that unlikely given recent events, these warriors were on edge for an actual battle against an invading force, but it was disappointing that so few wished to test themselves with him.
Eventually a few warily did, but even then it was clear their hearts and minds were not in it. Masruk was unsure if it was nervousness due to his being or the fact he was technically a part of a diplomatic delegation and they did not wish to bring dishonor on their king in case they did seriously harm him. Few spoke more than a few words to him to let him know.
It was all very… frustrating.
Masruk was sure that if he was half as good at talking and making the non-nerubians feel at ease as Krivax that he could make them more willing to spar with him, but sadly he was not. All he could do was fight with the knights who were willing to do so, finding it not nearly as enjoyable as usual as they held themselves back.
Then one day he got a true challenge.
“I had heard that one of the strange spiderfolk was sparring with the King’s knights. Mind if I take part?” a large armored human with a large facial mane approached the courtyard that Masruk and the local humans were using for sparring, earning a round of loud whispers from the gathered warriors.
“I welcome more warriors to train against,” Masruk said honestly. “I am Masruk, Warrior of Azjol-Nerub.”
“Well met. I am Sir Uther, Knight of Lordaeron,” the human bowed his head slightly to him, showing none of the unease and fear the other human knights had shown him so far. “I was curious to see how your people fought and hoped a friendly contest would be to your liking.”
“I am curious of the same, though sadly it seems your fellow warriors are oddly hesitant to throw themselves against me,” Masruk noted with frustration.
“Are they now?” Sir Uther said with a raised brow as he turned his head to regard the knights around them, most turning away at his gaze. “I’m sure they merely do not wish to unintentionally harm an important guest of the King, despite knowing healing is on hand for anything but killing blows.”
“I had reminded them of this, yes,” Masruk nodded. “I hope you are more willing to truly test me.”
“I swear upon the Light to meet you as a fellow warrior, within reason of course,” Sir Uther quickly agreed. “Now, shall we?”
Masruk merely nodded as he prepared himself and his spear within the sparring circle as Sir Uther walked up to do the same, bearing a large hammer as his primary weapon instead of the more common sword and shield the other knights choose to wield.
“An impressive looking weapon made for heavy strikes, but lacking in defensive options like your fellows,” Masruk noted curiously.
“Hehe, yes, that is true. But so long as I don’t let myself get hit too hard it is a fine trade off, I find,” Uther chuckled. “I see your people seem fond of the spear.”
“It gives us superior range against most foes and excellent for fighting in the tunnels,” Masruk explained. “Also, we can drive our weight behind it well when we rush forward, not unlike your mounted knights and their lances.”
“Indeed, one can say you can hardly be a knight in these lands without knowing how to ride and fight ahorse,” Uther nodded. “But sometimes fighting afoot is needed or best. I am proud to say I can do both rather well with my weapon, I think.”
“Then this fight should be very informative,” Masruk said.
“Indeed,” Uther answered back with a smile.
Neither of them moved for several moments, waiting till one made the first move.
Eventually Masruk decided he might as well take it and see if Sir Uther’s claims held true. Therefore he rushed forward on all six of his legs, moving faster in a burst of speed than the humans around him. He directed his spear carefully, aiming for the thickest parts of Sir Uther’s armor so that when he hit it would at worst wound the human and not kill him directly.
Masruk was confident that his speed and his spear’s reach would win him the match swiftly, as it had with many knights thus far who were too slow to get their shields up in time. Sir Uther used a heavy weapon and had no shield, Masruk was confident he would not be able to swing his weapon in time to stop his charge. It would be another disappointingly easy win.
Then his four sets of eyes widened in surprise as at the very last moment Sir Uther finally moved, lifting the haft of his hammer instead of its head to block and deflect his strike to graze over his shoulder instead of striking his chest true. He then leaned forward, raised his hammer, and thrust it at him like a spear with impressive speed right into his abdomen with equally impressive strength.
The force of the strike combined with his forward momentum caused him to tumble to the ground hard, the knight before him quickly sidestepping him so as to not be caught in his wake.
Masruk struggled to breathe as he tried to right himself, only to find Sir Uther’s hammer directly above his head, showing that if this had been a real fight the knight could have easily smashed his head to bits like an overripe fruit if he chose to. Masruk had let overconfidence and the behavior of the other knights blind him, and he had suffered for it.
“That was quite impressive,” Sir Uther said as he pulled his hammer back and planted its haft upon the ground. “Felt like a cavalry charge almost hit me. If I had tried to block that full on no doubt you would’ve bulled me over. Thank the Light that I’ve learned a trick or two over the years to fight against that kind of thing,” Sir Uther laughed as he offered Masruk a hand.
Masruk stared at the human’s hand before he forced himself up on his six legs without assistance and bowed before the human.
“Well fought,” Masruk said simply. “You are clearly skilled and experienced, and if you sought my death you could have delivered it easily. You have my respect.”
“Now now, no need to go that far,” Sir Uther said. “You are clearly skilled yourself, and I am sure that we have a lot to teach one another… assuming you still want to learn of course.”
“I would be honored to continue sparring with you Sir Uther, with the ultimate goal of surpassing you as the better warrior,” Masruk stated clearly.
“Ha! I won’t make it easy for you,” Sir Uther laughed.
“Please don’t, that would make it harder to improve,” Masruk told him.
And so it was that Masruk found a good sparring partner and maybe another friend… Krivax would be proud, he assumed.
----------------------------------------
“They’re so big,” Prince Arthas Menethill, heir to the throne of Lordaeron, couldn’t help but say out loud as he looked among the strong beings from one of the palace's many high balconies. They were called nerubians apparently, and they were nothing less than if people and giant spiders were smooshed together.
“Kinda reminds me of the giant spiders from Brightwood,” Prince Varian Wrynn, heir to the throne of Stormwind, pointed out from his position crouched down next to his fellow prince as they peeked at the kingdom’s latest and strangest guests.
They were currently staring at the biggest one of the bunch, something called a Spiderlord, as he walked around with the Archbishop through the palace gardens, guards from both the Church and the nerubian delegation following both at a respectful distance.
“The Archbishop is so brave standing next to that thing, it’s almost as big as a house!” Arthas couldn’t help but note, not even his recently acquired steed Invincible could match the Spiderlord in size.
“I heard it's because they are interested in the Light, not having it where they are from. That is kinda sad, honestly,” Varian said, voice sounding a little melancholic.
“I guess,” Arthas said. “Makes sense though since Sir Uther told me Northrend is so cold cause the sun barely shines there. No sun, no Light.”
The two princes, who had become fast friends despite the short time that Prince Varian had been in Lordaeron, continued to stare at the Spiderlord and Archbishop as they walked and talked, too far away for them to hear a thing but their imaginations still running wild despite that.
“You… you think they’ll help?” Varian asked Arthas hesitantly.
“With what?” Arthas asked curiously before quickly deducing what his friend was asking. “Oh, you mean fighting the Horde, right? Why wouldn’t they?”
“It's not their fight… others have made that clear,” Varian said in a mix of anger and sadness as he recalled the continuing talks among the leaders of the Seven Kingdoms.
“Not now maybe, but I’m sure they would see how the orcs are a big threat and how it's the right thing to do,” Arthas encouraged him. “Besides, only fair we get our own monsters to fight back the other ones.”
“Heh, maybe…” Varian laughed weakly at the jest.
“Just think about it, orcs being crushed under the big one’s… scythes? How does it grab things?” Arthas asked curiously as he took in the Spiderlord’s main appendages.
“Maybe it has the smaller ones do it for it,” Varian couldn’t help but chuckle at the idea, getting Arthas to laugh along too.
“Yeah! Like little servants that—” Arthas’ cut himself off as he and Varian watched as a smaller nerubian did indeed crawl up the larger one and looked as if it fed it something. “Huh.”
This made the boys go silent for several moments.
“These guys are weird,” Arthas finally said, causing Varian to burst into laughter so loud it caused the two princes to duck down on the balcony as Arthas joined him in his laughter. The two simply laughed at the absurdity of the whole thing, laughing until they were out of breath and their chests hurt.
Eventually it died down as they got their breathing back under control.
Arthas turned to his friend with a smile before dropping it as he noticed tears welling up in the corners of Varian’s eyes. He simply stayed quiet as his friend sniffed and wiped the tears away. Arthas punched him in the shoulder lightly to get his attention a few moments later.
“Hey, we’ll get your home back and avenge your parents, promise. We’ll do it all by ourselves if we have to. Don’t worry, I promise it’ll work out,” Arthas said as Varian merely nodded.
“Thanks… but it would be nice if we got our own monsters to help out,” Varian said with a sad smirk.
“Heh, yeah it would. I’m sure my father can make it happen, almost everyone agrees with him anyway,” Arthas pointed out optimistically.
“Maybe… maybe…” Varian sighed. “I can always ask if they want any land? Lots of it to the east of Stormwind we never used. I’ll ask Lord Lothar about it.”
“Maybe, that is how knights get their land… and I heard these spiderguys live underground so it doesn't matter what land is like,” Arthas thought out loud. “Kinda like dwarfs and gnomes and they live in snowy mountains no one likes.”
“Who knows… we should get back to practicing,” Varian said as he got up and gave Arthas a challenging look. “You still have a long way to go to beat me after all.”
Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.
“That’s just cause you're older! You’ll see, I’ll be the best knight in the world soon!” Arthas got up and followed him.
“Yeah, but I’ll be the best knight and king first!” Varian taunted as he ran off, a hot-blooded Arthas right behind him as they ran through the halls of the palace toward the royal training yard.
Of course, unknown to both, a certain spymaster watched from the shadows as they went on their way.
“Hmmm, well they became friends faster than expected. The King should be pleased,” Tafari Anwir said as he turned his head to look into the gardens below to see the Spiderlord and Archbishop were finishing their conversation about the latter taking the former to visit the Cathedral sometime soon, based on the lip movements of his at least and something he would follow up on later, something that he will need to pass by the King so he can plan accordingly.
Hopefully the faithful found the idea of giant spider people attending church less disturbing than the beings themselves.
----------------------------------------
“Ewww, gross!” a young girl said as she watched one of the smaller nerubians crawl up one of the palace’s outer walls and start licking some honey that had been applied there by some of the servant boys who were giggling at the display.
“See, I told you! I think they’re some kind of pet or something,” one of said boys said as he turned toward the girl.
“Ugliest pet ever!” the other boy laughed as he picked up a small rock and threw it at the nerubian, completely missing and not even drawing the creature’s attention as it continued to eat the honey. “So close!”
“As if!” the other boy said as he also picked up a rock and attempted to hit the creature, but also missed by a mile. “Darn it!”
“You both stink at throwing,” the girl said, earning her glares from the boys.
“How about you try then!”
“Yeah!”
“Fine, but only cause you guys are terrible at it,” she said as she picked up a small stone, took aim, and threw it. She hit the nerubians dead on, startling it from its meal and causing it to circle around the wall in shock, causing all three of the children to laugh at it.
“So dumb!” one of the boys yelled, but this was the wrong thing to do as the creature spotted them, hissed, and before their terrified eyes they watched as it jumped from the wall and took flight.
Then it started towards them.
“AHHHH!”
“RUN!”
“YOU DIDN’T SAY THEY COULD FLY!”
All three of the children ran as the flyer took after them, diving into the safety of inside the palace before the flyer stopped its pursuit with a huff.
“Hatchlings are so annoying,” the flyer said as it returned to the wall to finish its meal. “At least the nectar is nice.”
----------------------------------------
“Last I heard they were locking Khaz Modan down and the best thing we can do is sit tight rather than try to show up,” Malze explained to Trixie as they hung about the common area of the local branch of the Explorer’s League, a building that also served as an embassy to both Ironforge and Gnomeregan, a place full of dwarfs and gnomes filled with the same restless energy as them as news of home spread around. “Last thing they want is to drop avalanches and blow up passes with our people moving through it when they want to save that for the Horde.”
“But we could help!” Trixie argued.
“Both King Bronzebeard and High Tinker Mekkatorque think it is best we support whatever the humans eventually decide to call their little get together rather than an unorganized rush home with the greenskins practically on their doorstep,” Malze explained. “I can see the reasoning.”
“Ugh!” Trixie let out a noise of annoyance at the news.
“Trixie, don’t be like that. Our people will be safe,” Malze tried to assure her.
“The Horde destroyed Stormwind,” Trixie was quick to remind him.
“And it took years to do it, and you and I both know Khaz Modan isn’t an easy place for anyone to pass through easily on a good day,” Malze fired back. “And like I keep reminding you, both Ironforge and Gnomeregan are the most fortified cities on the continent. I don’t care how big the Horde is, they’ll choke on a mountain of bodies before they breach the gates of either.”
Trixie just sat there in silence for a minute before finally speaking up.
“...I just hate feeling helpless,” she said. “Bad enough I feel it out here in the world where everything is so much bigger than me, but now I feel helpless for more than just myself.”
“I don’t blame you, lass. I feel the same thing about my family and people,” Malze said as he rested a gentle hand on her shoulder. “But mountains don’t bend easy, so you got to trust those we love that they can handle it, just like how they are trusting us to help them out when the time comes.”
“I hate it when you make sense,” Trixie muttered.
“I’m a politician’s son, convincing people to agree with me is normal,” Malze simply said.
Trixie snorted. “More like being a smartass.”
“They don’t have to be mutually exclusive.”
That just made them both laugh before relaxing and speaking up again.
“So what do we do?” Trixie asked curiously.
“Well, I did get a message from the King’s court asking if we’d be willing to be on hand to be ‘nerubian experts’ over the course of their visit here,” Malze said.
“You are telling me just now?” Trixie questioned before continuing. “And we met and shared a boat ride with them, with Krivax doing most of the work. What part of that makes us experts?”
“I wanted to wait till we knew what was happening back home before telling you anything since I know your mind has been on it,” Malze explained. “And it's more than most humans can say, and humans thinking ‘get the underground dwellers to talk with the other underground dwellers. They should get along since they obviously both like rocks.’”
“Wow… I don’t know what to say to that,” Trixie said in shock.
“It pays at least, and sure Krivax could use the friendly faces if nothing else,” Malze pointed out. “I imagine it’s going to take a while for the humans to warm up to them.”
“Alright, fine, for Krivax,” Trixie said as she quickly downed a nearby flagon of beer nearly as tall as she was. “Maybe we can convince his stuffy bosses to help out too.”
“I suppose this is a time to ask for miracles if nothing else,” Malze said with a snort.
----------------------------------------
“-and that is what we know about the magical capabilities of the Horde thus far,” Antonidas explained to the two nerubians before him, Viziers Hadix and Crinis.
These nerubians were fascinating creatures, and it was apparent that those of their ‘Vizier caste’ was their version of court wizards and conjurers, valued for their magical ability along with their knowledge and good counsel. Though for the life of him he still had no idea how to tell the difference between the male and female before him.
As it was, after the initial introduction the Viziers were quick to come to him as a fellow user of the Arcane and learn what they could of magic, both his and the Horde’s. Naturally, the two reciprocated by answering simple questions about their own people’s magic, as well.
At a certain point, they began speaking more deeply about the Horde.
He was happy to share what he knew… up to a certain point, of course. There was much that was not appropriate for him to share; the information about Medivh and his madness was still being secured to only those who needed to know.
“This Dark Portal seems beyond these savage orcs,” Vizier Crinis spoke up. “It makes one wonder how they could create such an artifice to allow travel between worlds. The power requirements alone must be staggering.”
“It is likely due to distance and our place underground that made us miss the pulse of magic it sent out when it opened up,” Vizier Hadix spoke up. “Though now that I think of it, according to the dates involved there was a fluctuation in the local leylines around that same time period. I thought nothing of it at the time, but now…”
“Dalaran most certainly detected it, I imagine there wasn’t a mage that day that didn’t,” Antonidas said as he himself recalled how the Council of Six were all quite shocked as the pulse hit them in the middle of one of their meetings. “I’m sure the elves did as well… but as is usual for them ignored it for it did not directly affect them.”
“Short-sighted fools,” Vizier Hadix snarled.
Antonidas didn’t readily agree, for he knew many wise and competent elves, Kael'thas a prime example… but even his fellow Councilor would admit that he and many elves that made Dalaran home were the outliers and not the norm of Quel’thalas.
“I also see reports of the orcs making use of magic that you could not recognize.” Vizier Crinis cut in. “These Necrolytes and Warlocks…”
Yet another thing to keep under wraps. The last thing we need is knowledge of the Shadow and Fel magic getting around, Antonidas silently thought.
“Indeed, foul and evil magics used to raise the dead and summon monsters,” Antonidas confirmed. “They could be combated with the arcane and the Light, but both types of casters were highly dangerous according to the surviving conjurers who were fighting for Stormwind.”
“Foul indeed…” Vizier Crinis agreed easily, sharing a look with her fellow Vizier but saying nothing.
Curious, I wonder what that is about, he couldn’t help but wonder.
“Is there a reason why this pulse of magic was not originally investigated by your order?” Vizier Hadix asked curiously.
“Dalaran’s influence was… limited that far south, with most mages in the area being of a more independent bent and would have not have taken the Kirin Tor’s presence well,” Antonidas explained. “And I will be first to admit we did not take the news of the Horde as seriously as we should have when the news did reach us. For that, I am truly regretful.”
Damn Medivh and everything you wrought, he internally cursed. The mad guardian had killed several powerful court conjurers and members of the Kirin Tor, with only Khadgar somehow surviving the ordeal with his mad master to tell them how far he had truly fallen.
“But now we have the chance to right that wrong and I intend to pledge Dalaran’s support in combating the Horde and reclaiming Stormwind in due time,” Antonidas said with conviction.
“Speaking of your city, we’ve heard that it's the most magically steeped place in the Eastern Kingdoms beyond the lands of the elves,” Vizier Hadix spoke up. “A place of learning for all mages.”
“Indeed,” Antonidas said with pride. “In fact, should you wish to visit you would be quite welcome since it is a place where all races can come to live and learn under one roof. It is just across the lake as well, not even a day’s travel on a good horse and less by boat and magic. If you wish to visit you need only ask, and we’d welcome any knowledge you were willing to share with us as well.”
The two Viziers looked to each other silently once more before turning to the Grand Magus.
“Tell us more…” Vizier Hadix hummed in interest.
----------------------------------------
Anub’rekhan could say with confidence that when the High King had sent him with the diplomatic delegation to these unknown lands known as the Eastern Kingdoms all those months ago, though given his suspended animation it felt like a fraction of that time to him, that he wasn’t expecting much to come out of it. Still, he went without complaint since that was his duty and maybe he would be pleasantly surprised by what a land apparently controlled mainly by the vrykuls’ stunted offspring might hold.
And he was.
When he first learned of the power known as simply the ‘Light’ by the human known as Father Elric and saw him use it he had been intrigued. It was a power unknown to the nerubians as a whole, the Viziers within the delegation quick to confirm it was completely devoid of the arcane energy that the empire was most familiar with.
As one of Azjol-Nerub’s greatest Spiderlords, it was his duty to understand this new source of power, to see how it could be used against them and more importantly how they could use it themselves.
While he might not be a Vizier, and had not studied magic in-depth, he still felt that he was more than capable of evaluating the Light’s value to the kingdom.
Its most prevalent feature was perhaps the healing abilities it granted its wielders, something that while not impossible for users of the arcane, was notably advanced and difficult to achieve. Something that Father Elric apparently did with ease regularly to those who needed it.
According to the Father it was capable of a wide assortment of other abilities as well, though he was only capable of using its most basic abilities and those more in tune with the Light were capable of much more.
Archbishop Faol explained to him that the powers of the Light allow its practitioners to heal wounds, mend broken bones, dispel mind control, cure the sick and even supposedly restore life to the recently dead, and as ridiculous as that sounded it bore investigation if even slightly true. However, even he admitted his kind were ill-suited to combat, with apparently the Clerics of Northshire, priests who served the fallen kingdom of Stormwind against the Horde, being largely wiped out during the course of the conflict.
Anub’rekhan was sure that with the right training, a user of the Light could also be turned into a warrior on top of a healer, making them a deadly threat on any field of battle.
So when Father Elric became one of their guides to Capital City he took full advantage of his presence to learn all he could of the Light and the organization associated with it. The priest was happy to share everything that he knew, enjoying ‘spreading the word of the Light’ as he put it.
It was clear that this Church of the Holy Light treated this Light as if it was some kind of deity when that was not the case, as he learned over the days of speaking with the priest.
The Light was more a philosophy more than anything else, something that despite Anub’rekhan’s form he was very familiar with, regularly reading within Azjol-Nerub’s vast library and collection of lore. It was one that required the user to be certain and convinced of their ideals, which in turn powered the use of this unique form of magic. That was why faith made it so strong he figured, because what could be a stronger conviction than one’s unquestioned belief in a higher power?
Unlike arcane, one could be a total idiot and so long as they believed strongly enough the Light would manifest. Anub’rekhan was honestly not sure how to feel about that part…
Either way, this meant that theoretically anyone could use the Light, with only the weak of heart and will being incapable of using it to its full potential. And the warriors under his command were never either, he made sure of it.
He could imagine it well, a wall of warriors who simply refused to fall as they devoted everything they were to their people, the Light healing their wounds and empowering their bodies… glorious.
When they finally arrived in Capital City, pleasantly surprised to see such an impressive settlement beyond the empire after seeing only the petty hovels of the humans thus far, and made their way to the palace that held the local ruler and ones visiting from other lands, including the human Vizier who stretched space itself to allow Anub’rekhan to pass through the smaller human halls, he met whom he wanted to the most. The leader of the Church of the Holy Light himself, the human known as Archbishop Alonsus Faol.
Father Elric spoke very glowingly of him, how he was the most powerful user of the Light in the known world and how no one was closer to it than him.
Anub’rekhan believed it, since even when he wasn’t consciously using his power Faol constantly exuded an aura about him that made the air seem fresher, those around him feel better, and naturally, the light brighter. So when introductions were done and when the Archbishop was not taking part in the Council of Seven Nations, Anub’rekhan took up his time and the man was glad to give it, to share the Light with a people who had never heard of it before.
Of course, as the leader of one of the largest organizations in the Eastern Kingdoms Faol was a very busy man, so Anub’rekhan did his best to work around his schedule. It allowed him to learn how the church functioned and how the empire could use that knowledge themselves when he brought it back home, after all.
That and he still enjoyed how the humans froze and whimpered in his mighty presence.
He watched as Faol directed his followers within the massive cathedral where his organization was headquartered, directed the various acolytes, clerics, priests, bishops, and more that made it up, and most importantly, watched as he unleashed his powers.
He watched as he healed the injured, sick, and just plain broken human refugees of Stormwind whom the church was working hard to care for. His very presence seemed to bring life to the scattered masses, lifting them up when they were at their lowest. He watched as humans who looked like corpses already were brought back to perfect health with a blaze of light, watching them break into tears of joy at their good fortune while the Archbishop merely accepted their thanks with a smile.
It was then that Anub’rekhan realized that the Light was not just power, but a rallying cry to all those that would be near it. How by its very nature the Light seemed to encourage and empower others affected by it. It gave them comfort, hope, courage, determination, and all things any general would give countless limbs for in times of war and conflict for his troops.
It was a force multiplier of great power in the right hands… and a deadly weapon as well.
But he also found there was something… deeper with it as he talked more and more with Faol, the man happy and eager to explain just what the Light was to him and many others.
It was a driving force encouraging them to improve every day, to do good by their fellows wherever they could, to protect those in need, and seek justice against evil where they could find it, and why after seeing the damage the Horde had done why he supported a united front against the invaders and would see them driven from the world back from where they came from.
And so the Spiderlord started seeing the Light held a power more... profound than he had previously realized.
Something he was sure his High King would find very interesting.