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"We must move quickly. We must not be late."
"Late for what?" Asterius demanded impatiently of his guide, a forsaken soldier cloaked in a body-length tattered cape. Beneath the folds of the cape, Asterius caught a silvery glimpse of many different knives; long, curved blades for slashing and shorter, pointed ones for throwing. If he had to guess, his guide's profession was that of assassin or scout. The undead soldier didn't answer or even pause to rest, despite the almost hectic pace they had been keeping through the cluttered alleys of the human capital. The sounds of pitched battle were fading as they left the frenzied melee of the Trade District heading west. "What's so damned important that you felt it necessary to draw me away from command in the middle of combat?"
"Only this," the guide said as he abruptly turned around, his blades drawn and less than a hair away from the druid's neck before he could even blink. From behind Asterius, skeletal hands latched onto his arms, holding him in place with their cold grasp. In the corner of his eye, Asterius could see undead on the rooftops, leveling crossbows with unnatural steadiness as they drew a bead on the captured tauren. The forsaken guide moved forward until he was close enough that Asterius could see his own reflection in the undead's milky-white, pupilless eyes.
"Who are you?" A similar voice from behind him asked.
"What do you mean? I am Asterius, General of-"
"A lie!" Shouted one of the archers from above.
"Deceit!" Hissed a robed arcanist, air shimmering around him as he gathered magical power.
"He sleeps beneath this earth." "He passed beyond this plane." "He left this mortal coil."
The forsaken soldiers' whispered words rose together, speaking in chorus like a mockery of a hymn.
"From each of us, from all of us; a handful of dirt to entomb. A sacrifice for the greater good. One for many, a choice already chosen, a path already followed."
The forsaken fell silent, and the guide spoke up again, his words almost accusing. "The General died in Ironforge. Who are you?!"
"I am Asterius, General of Rend Fate, leader of the Warwalk-"
"Our leader is dead!" "Our General is dead!" "Asterius is dead!"
"Who are you?!" They shouted in unison, raising their collective weapons for a killing blow.
"I... am... ASTERIUS!" He howled back at them. "General of Rend Fate! Leader of the Warwalkers!"
A self-righteous rage burned within him. He shoved away their blades and pointed to the forsaken guide with a clenched fist. "I have the lives of thousands entrusted to me! I have a mission! You think I would abandon either?! You say death stands in my way... well, bring it on!"
Asterius spat on the ground and continued. "I deny death's grasp... I deny the afterworld! I fight for a higher purpose... and to protect that ideal, Frenze, I will never stop fighting!"
Silence followed and the guide blinked. Perhaps, the druid thought, his words had gotten through to them. After a moment, the forsaken guide sheathed his blades, emulated by his undead companions.
"You believe me now?" Asterius asked hesitantly.
"Of course," he said with coarse laughter. "Only the General would remember our names. We must move, no time to waste."
Asterius snorted in disbelief as Frenze turned away again. Bloody Kahnas. They continued down the narrow alleyway, leaving the others behind. The robed arcanist turned to his brethren, his expression curious.
"A heartfelt speech," he said conversationally to his pike-wielding counterpart, who replied in turn.
"For those without hearts."
"Perhaps he can pull it off?" The arcanist pondered as he faded into the doorway of an abandoned shop, leaving his brother alone in the street.
"...We shall see." The pikeman said to the empty alleyway. The General had promised to defeat death, itself. What a coincidence. The forsaken soldier shouldered his weapon and turned back to the Trade District and the fighting within. On the rooftops, the forgotten archer balanced an arrow on his fleshless fingertip and hissed with amusement.
"This shall be interesting."
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"Where are we going?" Asterius was beginning to breathe heavily. The pace Frenze was setting was tough for him to keep up with, given his much greater bulk. The undead assassin didn't even look winded, though Asterius realized abruptly that it was probably because the forsaken never breathed. Frenze answered his question without slowing in the least.
"Those who left the prisons require your expertise."
"You mean Leda and her army?" The two flew by reagent shops and arcane trinket dealers as they followed the canals along the outer edge of the Mage Quarter. In the distance above the shops, Asterius could see the Wizard's Sanctum as it towered above the rest of the district. Faint screaming and the clash of metal against metal rang from that direction and Asterius wondered how the human Resistance forces were holding up in their quest to take the tower.
"The feral one, yes. The army, no. The others from the prisons fight well and our aid is unneeded."
"Have your brothers told them of my survival?" Asterius felt it strange that he no longer wondered about the Kahnas' unnerving ability to pass along information instantaneously between themselves.
"We felt it would amuse us, so yes." At this, Frenze stopped suddenly and almost looked confused. "The Priestess was leaking fluids. She..."
"She?"
"She... hugged us." Asterius held back laughter. Amusing, indeed. Frenze shook his head like a dog that had gotten a taste of something foul, and returned to running at breakneck speed. Asterius groaned and broke into his distance-eating trot.
"And Leda?" He said with a grunt, unwilling to spare any more oxygen from his lungs.
"We aided her in finding her other half, closing doors within the spire." Frenze reached out with his rotting limb and pointed at the Mage's Tower. Asterius could connect the dots quite easily. The human Resistance leader had said something about the enemy reinforcement portals being mysteriously shut down without anyone knowing what had happened. Apparently, Iyotanka had happened.
"We have arrived." Frenze stopped once again, this time at the dividing bridge between the Mage Quarter and the Park. Up ahead, Asterius could see the green tips of trees. Oddly enough, rather than put him at ease, the Park gave off a feeling of dread within him. The winds brought with them the metallic taste of blood.
"...What are we here for?"
"To fulfill the General's pledge." Frenze gestured towards the Park invitingly. "Death awaits. We look forward to your victory."
