Krasus, also known as Korialstrasz, felt a slight unease as he listened to the Council of Six discuss the most recent news about how things were developing down south. According to all reports, the situation was dire, and Krasus could see the Council members increasing their assessment of the Horde’s threat.
“Have we truly not had any success in our attempts to contact Ironforge or Gnomeregan?” asked Ansirem, his voice filled with surprise.
“All of our attempts have been complete failures,” Kel’thuzad said bluntly. “While the Horde’s magic is not particularly sophisticated, it has a certain strength to it. Perhaps if I knew more about the magic that they use, then I would have a better idea of how to overcome them.”
Kel’thuzad spoke the last part while staring pointedly at Antonidas, who simply ignored him completely.
Krasus knew that Kel’thuzad held the Grand Magus responsible for not allowing him to study more dangerous magic firsthand. Privately, he was grateful that the mortals were smart enough to severely limit the study of such vile magic; he knew far more than they did how dangerous such studies could be, especially in regard to the corruptive powers of Fel and Void.
Even the nerubians don’t seem to use Void magic anymore, and they are literally descended from creatures formed from the Old Gods’ ichor, he thought in the privacy of his own mind.
There had once been a time shortly after the nerubian’s disastrous defeat in their war against the vrykul that some among his people had proposed attacking the creatures while they were at their weakest. After all, their race had been servants of the Old Gods at the time and was thus considered to be a threat to Azeroth.
Ultimately, it was his beloved queen, Alexstrasza, who had opposed the destruction of an entire race of sapient beings, regardless of how dangerous they might be. Krasus had not agreed with his beloved’s decision at the time, even if he had kept his thoughts to himself, but he now saw that his queen was far wiser than he.
He was still surprised at how much the creatures had changed after not seeing them for a few millennia, and no matter how closely he studied them, he could find no trace of the Old Gods’ influence. It seemingly showed that even the Old God’s forces could grow common sense and abandon the malicious entities.
Krasus couldn’t help but chuckle to himself at the thought.
“Has there been any news from Capital City on any progress made by the Council of Seven Nations?” asked Antonidas, continuing to ignore Kel’thuzad as the Archmage glared in his direction.
The Grand Magus had a bad habit of bluntly changing subjects that he didn’t want to discuss, or that he knew would go nowhere
“My contacts in Capital City tell me that there are signs that Gilneas and Alterac are loosening their opposition,” said Krasus, choosing to speak up since he was the one who knew the most about what was happening in Lordaeron’s capital. “I’ve heard rumors that King Perenolde was scared stiff over how quickly the Horde managed to conquer Khaz Modan, and even King Greymane seems to be disturbed.”
Living as long as he did made it convenient to form relationships with all sorts of people who knew valuable information. Especially when he could share information with his fellow members of the Red Dragonflight or their Dragonsworn.
After all, he wasn’t the only dragon secretly living in mortal society.
He himself had a Dragonsworn, a half-elf named Garek Autumnband, who lived in Capital City and served him faithfully.
“Good,” Antonidas said with satisfaction. “Perhaps the two of them will end their useless bickering and we can finally take the fight to the Horde.”
“Have you had any luck in convincing your father, Prince Kael’thas?” asked Krasus. Given that his mortal form was an elf, it was most appropriate that he be the one to ask such a question.
“I have not,” said Kael’thas, his expression growing frustrated, as it often did when discussing his father. “Neither my father nor the Grand Magister are interested in joining this conflict, and do not view the Horde as a significant threat to Quel’thalas.”
It was well known that Prince Kael’thas had many disagreements with his father and Silvermoon’s magisters about how unwilling his people were to cooperate with outsiders. The prince was much more interested in learning from and collaborating with foreign people to the point that he actually spent more time in Dalaran than Silvermoon.
Krasus had known the prince for many centuries, and it made him feel optimistic that Quel’thalas would have such an open-minded king in the future.
“Have they been made aware of Anduin Lothar’s status as a direct descendant of the Arathi bloodline?” asked Krasus, referring to the agreement made by Quel’thalas to repay the debt they owed for the Arathi Empire’s assistance during the Troll Wars.
“He has, which is the only reason that my father is even considering sending aid,” said Kael’thas. “Although I doubt whatever force they send will be as substantial as it should be. I’ve been disappointed by my father and the Convocation enough times to know better than to expect Quel’thalas to mobilize its entire military for a threat they consider beneath them.”
Krasus didn’t doubt that the prince’s assumption was accurate; there was little chance that Quel’thalas would be providing large amounts of military aid against the Horde unless they were personally threatened.
A part of him wanted to look down on them for that kind of mentality, but he wasn’t blind to the fact that many among the Dragonflights felt similarly. Perhaps there might be wisdom in his people remaining generally uninvolved in the affairs of mortals, but the longer he lived among them, the more difficult it became to find such wisdom.
His own Dragonflight was by far the most empathetic towards mortals, but even their good intentions had a tendency to be distinctly… patronizing.
The rest of the meeting was dull yet necessary as they discussed logistics and went over ideas of how Dalaran could best contribute to the defeat of the Horde. It wasn’t until near the end of their scheduled meeting time that someone brought up mention of the people that had been on Krasus’s mind since their arrival to the Eastern Kingdoms.
“And what of the nerubians?” Kel’thuzad said as the conversation began to lull. “Is there anything we can offer to convince them to aid us against the Horde?”
The Chamber of Air was silent for a moment as the gathered Archmages considered the question before Prince Kael’thas let out a derisive chuckle.
“I sincerely doubt it,” said Kael’thas. “The majority of their Viziers remind me far too much of several Magisters that I’ve spoken to over the years. It doesn’t help that they are even more unlikely to view the Horde as a threat given their kingdom’s geographical isolation.”
It was certainly a fair point to make, although not one that filled Krasus with much optimism. There was little chance that Azjol-Nerub would consider the Horde to be a significant threat to their kingdom, and they would probably even be right not to. The idea that the Horde could transport a significant force to Northrend, march who knows how far through endless snow, and successfully assault a powerful underground kingdom likely filled with all manner of horrifying creatures was laughable.
However, just because the Horde was not likely to be a threat to their safety, did not necessarily mean they were not a threat to the nerubian’s interests. The only problem was that Krasus didn’t understand them enough to give an accurate guess as to what they actually wanted from the Eastern Kingdoms.
Without that kind of information, it would be hard to convince the nerubians to enter a war that largely did not affect them.
After taking a look around, Krasus could tell from his colleagues' frustrated expressions that they had likely reached the same conclusion.
The Council discussed a variety of methods they could use to persuade the nerubians, but none of them seemed particularly viable. The most feasible proposition was to leverage the relationship the Church of the Holy Light had with the nerubian Spiderlord named Anub’rekhan, but it was doubtful that would be enough to change the policy of an entire kingdom.
“If we are unable to convince Azjol-Nerub to fight the Horde, then we must turn our focus to the resources that we can gain from them,” said Antonidas, causing the room to grow quiet as they considered what the nerubians could offer short of sending their warriors.
“Perhaps they might provide material goods? They certainly seem to have more than enough ore,” offered Kel’thuzad, stroking his beard with a thoughtful expression.
“Lordaeron’s diplomats have already begun negotiations with the nerubian delegation for the exchange of valuable goods,” said Krasus, remembering what his contacts told him about the ongoing situation in Capital City. “The negotiations are progressing slowly given how Azjol-Nerub seems to be nearly as averse to trading and interacting with outsiders as Quel’thalas… but they thankfully are progressing.”
“If Lordaeron is already in negotiations with them, then the matter should be left to them,” said Modera. “Their silk could be useful for creating the appropriate armor for our mages and soldiers.”
The few samples of nerubian silk that, more so than even the rare quel’dorei silk, they had managed to acquire proved to be highly durable, fairly resistant to bladed weapons, and possessed certain qualities that made it extremely well suited to enchanting and channeling arcane magic. It was similar to chainmail, in a way, but in cloth form.
Because most metal armors were not conducive to effective spellcasting, which was why the majority of mages were limited to robes and magical means for their defense. If they could equip their military with armor that used such material, then it would be a substantial boost to their combat effectiveness.
“I will raise the matter with their delegation when I see them in Capital City,” declared Antonidas. “Is there anything else relevant to the war that we could gain from them?”
After word about the Horde’s successful conquest of Khaz Modan reached the nerubians, they declared their intention to return to Capital City as soon they finished situating their enclave. It made sense that they would want to be at the place where the most important political decisions were taking place during such a tumultuous period in history.
The gathered Archmages shared thoughtful expressions for several moments, but nobody voiced any further proposals.
“I have an idea… although I admit it is quite unorthodox,” said Ansirem, speaking hesitantly after seeing that everyone else kept their silence.
“Please, friend, in times like these you should not be afraid of voicing your thoughts,” said Kael’thas. “We need all the ideas we can get.”
“Perhaps I should give some context before I share my proposal,” said Ansirem, pausing for several moments to gather his thoughts before continuing. “Several days ago, I went to the nerubian enclave to ask Vizier Krivax a few questions about his people that I was curious about.”
“Hmph. That’s the friendly one, correct?” asked Modera.
Vizier Krivax had very quickly been singled out as one of the easiest members of the nerubian delegation to actually speak with. This meant many interested parties considered him to be the optimal person to approach if they had a proposal to make to the nerubians, despite his obvious lack of authority when compared to his peers.
Ironically, this meant that one of the most important members of the nerubian delegation from the perspective of the Eastern Kingdom’s diplomats was seemingly one of the least important from the perspective of Azjol-Nerub.
It was certainly a rather… strange situation that the young nerubian had found himself in. It was like watching a whelp that had somehow managed to place itself in a situation where it spoke for an entire Dragonflight.
“Correct, Vizier Krivax is the ‘friendly one,’” continued Ansirem. “I mainly approached him because of a comment he made during the duel between Arcanist Flametrail and Vizier Hadix that made me curious. He told me that some Spiderlords carry around swarms of man-eating insects on their person.”
“While that does admittedly sound quite fascinating, I’m not sure what it has to do with the subject at hand,” said Kel’thuzad.
“When I asked him if he could tell me more about the relationship that the nerubians have with non-sapient insects and arachnids, we had a long discussion during which he showed me a particular artifact,” said Ansirem, continuing on as if Kel’thuzad had not spoken. “It was some kind of magical tool that allowed him to telepathically direct the non-sapient members of his species and lesser invertebrates.”
At the Archmage's words, the members of the Council all suddenly seemed to be much more interested.
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Like the nerubian’s geomancy, that was a form of magic dissimilar to anything that they had in Dalaran and was thus inherently interesting to any mage with even a hint of curiosity.
“While that does admittedly sound even more fascinating, I’m still not sure what it has to do with the subject at hand,” Kel’thuzad drawled.
“According to Vizier Krivax, while such artifacts are usually only found among the high castes of their society, they are not considered to be any great secret, nor are they very difficult to create,” said Ansirem, throwing an annoyed glance in Kel’thuzad’s direction. “My proposal is this. We offer to purchase these artifacts at a significant price, alongside the non-sapient creatures that they control to aid in our war effort.”
Krasus couldn’t help but feel a bit dumbfounded at the Ansirem’s proposal, and after taking a quick glance around the room he could tell his colleagues were similarly speechless. The idea of simply… purchasing living beings from the nerubians as they would purchase weapons was not something that had occurred to him...
Would Azjol-Nerub really be willing to make such a deal?
Krasus’ mind raced as he took a moment to consider the matter, and found himself surprised when he couldn’t find an immediate reason why they wouldn’t. From what he had seen of the nerubians, there was no indication that they considered the jormungar or the non-sapient members of their race as any more than tools or beasts of burden, not unlike how the other mortal races treated their own creatures.
Not only that, but they were tools that were not particularly difficult to replace from their perspective.
It wasn’t actually that much different from purchasing a golem from Quel’thalas, or horses from Stromgarde.
There was a possibility that the nerubians might be unwilling to sell the controlling artifacts for fear of them being replicated, but the artifacts weren’t particularly valuable without the creatures they were meant to control, which Azjol-Nerub would maintain a monopoly over.
From their perspective, there really was not much risk at all, which made it much more likely that they would be willing to consider such an arrangement.
“Even a single Jormungar would have the potential to be a valuable military asset,” said Prince Kael’thas, his expression thoughtful as he seriously considered the unexpected proposal. “Aside from what damage it could do on its own, it would allow our soldiers to more easily assault entrenched enemy positions.”
Krasus had a brief mental image of one of the colossal worms burrowing a path into a Horde stronghold from below.
“Their flyers would also be useful for scouting during circumstances where scrying is not possible,” said Modera, eyes alight with enthusiasm for the idea.
“It would be difficult to evaluate what kind of value their skitterers would provide without knowing how many they would be willing to sell,” said Krasus consideringly. Against the Horde’s large numbers, they would definitely need to be deployed en masse to have a sizeable military impact. “But the question is, what would we give them in exchange? From what I’ve seen of them so far, the nerubians seem extremely self-sufficient.”
“Dalaran does not lack for resources,” Antonidas said confidently. “I’m sure we will be able to reach an arrangement when I speak with them. Well done Archmage Runeweaver, your proposal is… intriguing.”
The discussion revolved around that topic for several minutes before their scheduled meeting time came to an end. Until they actually spoke with the nerubian delegation and evaluated their reception to selling non-sapient creatures to be used in the war, there wasn’t much more for them to talk about.
Krasus left the meeting feeling a bit more optimistic than when it started and spent the entire walk to his home considering the risks and benefits. He wouldn’t be surprised if the nerubians had more hidden away in their underground kingdom than what they had already seen and heard from them so far.
Maybe I can convince them later to allow a delegation from Dalaran to visit Azjol-Nerub proper in the future once the war is over. He mused.
It would be wise to evaluate how their society had developed after freeing itself from the Old Gods’ influence. It was so rare to experience new and novel things at his age, so it might even be a pleasant experience.
It’s a shame we don’t have anyone in our Dragonflight living in Azjol-Nerub. I’ll have to raise the matter with my beloved the next time I see her.
It was these thoughts that distracted him enough that he almost didn’t notice the presence waiting just outside the boundary of the wards surrounding his home. Krasus waved his hand and cast a quick scrying spell, and was surprised when it revealed the presence to be a young female goblin, looking around impatiently while standing outside of his home, obviously waiting for somebody to arrive.
That’s strange. The goblins don’t usually leave the Underbelly, and my address shouldn’t be known outside of a few people.
Krasus couldn’t sense anyone else waiting around his home, and a single goblin was obviously not much of a threat, so he didn’t hesitate to approach her.
It was thanks to his heightened hearing that he could hear the goblin muttering to herself as he drew closer.
“How longs it gonna take for this mage to show up? I ain’t gettin’ paid enough to wait out in the cold…”
Ah… so she is waiting for me after all.
“Can I help you?” asked Krasus as soon he was close enough for the goblin to hear him, causing her to let out a startled yelp.
“Jeez! Why’s it you elves like sneaking up on people?! Should wear a bell or somethin’!” said the goblin, glaring at him mulishly.
“Oh, you have my apologies,” Krasus drawled, raising a single eyebrow. “How incredibly rude of me to sneak up on the suspicious individual waiting outside of my home, Ms…”
“The name's Mel Ficklepinch, and there ain't nothing suspicious about it! I’m here on legit business. Got paid to deliver a missive and everything!” said the goblin indignantly, pulling out a sealed letter from a pouch secured around her waist and holding it out for him.
Krasus looked down on the goblin with a dubious expression and directed his magical senses to the letter, completely unsurprised to discover that it was covered in magic. He looked again at the goblin, but couldn’t find anything in her expression that would imply that the spells were dangerous, so he took a closer look.
It was only after he found that he was unable to recognize a few of the spells that he began to take the matter more seriously.
“Where did you get this letter?” asked Krasus, staring at the goblin for any signs of falsehood. “Who is paying you for this delivery?”
“How should I know? The thing showed up in my room in the Underbelly with a pile of gold and instructions on it with an address. I’m not one to turn down gold, you see, and it seemed like a simple enough job, till you started asking questions of course,” she grumbled the last part. “Plus, I ain’t the kind of gal that’s dumb enough to cheat somebody who can just show up in my room without me noticing, you hear?”
Krasus didn’t hesitate to immediately look into the goblin’s mind. Unfortunately, the goblin seemed to be telling the truth, at least as far as she knew. She wasn’t even perturbed by the series of events, having apparently experienced similar things before in her dealings with the Steamwheedle Cartel.
According to her surface thoughts, she seemed to believe that he was some kind of Bloodthistle dealer getting in contact with a client.
Krasus took a quick second look at the spells attached to the letter and decided that they probably weren’t dangerous. The portions that he didn’t recognize seemed to be some kind of anti-divination magic to hide the sender's identity and not any kind of curse meant to cause him harm.
“Thank you,” said Krasus as he took the letter from the goblin. “Your delivery is complete. You may leave.”
“About time. My arm was starting to get stiff,” grumbled the goblin. “You ever need something delivered, just ask for Mel Ficklewink! You don’t got to worry about me asking any questions or talking to any guards.”
After giving her pitch, the goblin quickly scampered off, likely not wanting to push her luck with a mage who she believed to be some kind of drug dealer.
Krasus watched her for a moment before quickly making his way into his home, shutting the door behind him. As soon as he was alone, Krasus immediately cast a diagnostic spell on the letter, causing a three-dimensional arcane glyph representing the spells to form in the air in front of him.
Hmm… how clever.
Aside from the anti-divination magic, the other two spells cast on the letter were recognizable to him. One was a spell that would recognize when the letter's intended recipient made physical contact, setting off a timer that would activate a secondary spell after fifteen minutes. The second spell would create a small burst of fire that would immediately destroy the letter as soon as it activated.
Under normal circumstances, a mage as skilled as Krasus would easily be able to cast a counterspell to remove both pieces of magic, but there was one problem. Both of the spells were connected to the anti-divination magic, which would need to be removed first if he wanted to cast the counterspell.
Given that he had never seen such magic in his very long life, there was little chance he would be able to remove it in a mere fifteen minutes.
Realizing that he was on a time limit, Krasus decided to test the magic and quickly cast a divination spell that should tell him every person who had touched the letter within the last few months.
He watched in fascination as his spell seemed to be immediately caught by the anti-divination ward before being absorbed and somehow used to actually strengthen the ward.
How fascinating… I’ve never seen anything like it…
It had been a very long time since Krasus had seen magic that he did not recognize at all, and it immediately made him suspect that the letter had been written by a nerubian.
After all, they were currently the greatest source of new and unknown magic around and were also the people whose motivations he understood the least, so it would make the most sense if it came from them. That, along with the fact that he had sensed someone watching him near his home shortly after his conversation with Vizier Krivax.
It was unfortunate that he didn’t have time to examine the magic in detail, but given how much effort went into sending him the letter anonymously, its contents were likely important enough that he shouldn’t waste any more time.
Krasus broke the letter’s seal, unfolded the parchment, and immediately stiffened in shock as he realized that the letter was addressed to ‘Korialstrasz.’
There aren’t many people who should know my true name. Was this letter sent by another dragon? A dragonsworn agent? But then why the subterfuge?
As Krasus began reading through the contents of the letter, shock turned to confusion, and then to disbelief at the letter's outrageous claims. After the letter mentioned the Dragon Soul, a dark artifact the Dragonflights had taken great lengths to keep hidden from the world, Krasus began taking the claims a little more seriously. Few should know that it even existed, and nobody besides the highest members of his Flight should know that it had recently gone missing.
It was only when he reached halfway through the letter that his disbelief vanished and turned into utter, all-consuming rage.
As he read about what the orcs intended to do to his beloved, his face contorted into an expression of pure anger and a low growl started to form in his throat.
Flickers of flame danced along his skin even as the room around him began to shake. Books flew off of shelves and crashed to the ground, vials of potions shattered into pieces, and the ground beneath his feet began to crumble and crack.
His rage was so all-consuming that he actually struggled to retain his mortal disguise.
In a fit of unbridled anger, Krasus let out a mighty roar and a wave of magic exploded outward from him, tearing apart the room and only ending when it reached the wards, preventing his outburst from alerting all of Dalaran.
As the dust settled and the Archmage stood panting, surrounded by the wreckage of what had once been a peaceful and beautiful living room, he used every drop of willpower to push down his immense anger.
The very idea of the Horde using the Dragon Soul to do something so… evil to the person he loved most in the world made him want to immediately shed his mortal guise and fly south so he could personally burn them all alive.
The only thing stopping him from doing just that were the other claims being made in the letter.
If Deathwing is truly alive and he’s teaching the Horde how to use the Dragon Soul… then stopping him won’t be a simple matter.
If he was still alive, then Deathwing would be the only Aspect still in possession of all the powers bestowed upon him by the Titans. As powerful as Krasus was, his strength would be utterly insignificant when compared to the fallen Aspect of the Black Dragonflight.
After calming down, Krasus quickly read through the rest of the letter, filing the information as things to be dealt with later. Right now, the only thing he cared about was protecting his beloved.
However, the rest of the letter mostly detailed the relationship between the Horde and the Burning Legion, something that he already suspected, and about a specific orc by the name of Gul’dan. It was all immensely important, but not immediately time-sensitive from what he could tell, unlike the danger threatening his queen.
He could worry about the consequences and implications of that information later.
The moment that he finished reading, Krasus scanned the letter a second time so he could memorize its contents and immediately began making his way to the scrying mirror contained in his study.
Once at his mirror Krasus frantically cast a scrying spell that would hopefully show him Alexstrasza, and almost collapsed in relief when the spell succeeded, causing the mirror to show an image of her flying through the air accompanied by her other consorts.
Unfortunately, without them having a scrying tool on their end, there was no way for him to open up a channel of communication, though they were likely aware they were being watched.
After this is over, I’m going to invent a portable scrying tool that can be used while flying. I don’t care how long it takes.
After verifying that his beloved was currently safe, Krasus ended the scrying spell and moved to write a letter of his own that would be magically sent to the Grand Magus if he didn’t return to Dalaran within a few days. If the Horde was in possession of the Dragon Soul, then the trip he was about to make would not be a safe one, and the Council would need to be made aware of the truth.
Krasus still did not completely believe the contents of the letter that had been sent to him, but if there was even a small chance of it being accurate, then he needed to take action immediately. If it was all a lie, then whoever sent it was going to be deeply regretful for their actions when he found them.
Regardless of whether the contents were true or false, whoever wrote the letter knew more than they should. Krasus would without a doubt do everything in his power to find them after the more important matters were dealt with, but what happens if he succeeds would depend on the veracity of their claims.
He already has suspicions about who could have sent it, but either way, he would know soon enough whether the contents were true or false.
Thankfully as a member of the Council of Six he had the right to cast unscheduled teleports in and out of the city whenever he wanted, something he was happy to abuse now.
In a violet flash of magic, Krasus appeared many miles away in a forest in the southern portion of the Arathi Highlands.
Due to the spatial distortions being made by the Dark Portal, this was as close as he could reliably teleport with such little preparation. It would be enough, now that he was far from civilization.
For the first time in a long time, the Archmage known as Krasus shed his mortal guise, and Korialstrasz took on his true form. With two beats of his heavy wings that scattered the surrounding leaves into the air, the red dragon lifted himself into the air and began flying to his queen’s location as quickly as he could.
I swear, if she is harmed, then I will not rest until I have killed every single person responsible.