Karp
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Chapter 169
🕑 Added 2025-02-12 19:23:49 +0000 UTCWhilst it was the third and final night before Varrus was going to launch his invasion into the Plaguelands, strange rumblings were taking place within the Scourge held territory.
Hovering above the provincial capitol of Stratholme, in the northernmost region of the Kingdom of Lordaeron, was Naxxramas.
Built in the shape of a temple, this floating fortress of doom, and temple dedicated to the Cult of the Damned was the Scourges symbol of power. Lined with adamantium on the outside, covered in runes, and enchanted with the souls of a million innocents, it served as the mobile command post, and and projection of might for the most notorious Lich in the Eastern Kingdoms.
Kel’Thuzad.
Situated within the throne room of this mythical fortress, Kel’Thuzad was a skeleton covered in fanciful silk. His eyesockets glowed blue, and power emanated from his every pore.
Resurrected by the Sunwell, and corrupting it in the process, the former Archmage, and leader of the Kirin Tor had become a floating monstrosity of bone cold death.
Plants frosted over, and wilted wherever he hovered.
Humans wept when they drew sight of him.
Lesser Undead headed his psychic command without so much of an ounce of struggle.
Elites bowed their heads, unwilling to contest his might.
Reborn from the infinite energies of the Sunwell, its entire being had been used to make him whole. To make him a Demigod.
Flanking him on his left and right were Kel’Thuzad 's ultimate creations. Blurring the line between Legendary Hero & Demigod, they were the Four Horseman.
Each Horseman was a vile character in charge of Naxxramas's operations, and possessed both cunning and power. Their own cadres included 5 Heroes, 1,000 Elites, and 10,000 common zombies.
Led by the Death Knight, Baron Rivendare, should they ever act in concert, they could slay a Demigod.
Lining the far walls of the throne room were 100 Lichs. Heroes one and all. They were Kel’Thuzad 's students from within the Cult of the Damned.
Each Lich was a member of Kel’Thuzad's Compact, a magical organization that served to proliferate the teachings of necromancy.
They served as his eyes, ears, and commanders. These terrifying necromancers had gathered with them a force beyond comprehension.
Each member of the Compact brought with them a cadre of 1,000 mixed Elites, 50,000 common zombies, 1,000 gargoyles, 100 abominations, and 5 meat wagon catapults.
In total, the tally of Kel’Thuzad 's personal forces numbered as such:
Demigod: 1
Legendary Heroes: 4
Heroes: 120
Elites: 120,000
Common: 5,040,000
Gargoyles: 100,000
Abominations: 10,000
Meat Wagons: 500
The Kingdom of Lordaeron once boasted a population of well over 24,000,000 people.
Over 20% of that figure now occupied positions within Kel’Thuzad 's army.
The streets and fields of Stratholme were flooded with the Undead.
Such a large concentration had not happened since Arthas's assault on Quel'Thalas.
Zombies mindlessly milled about the land as far as the eye could see, yet this was not the end of it.
Naxxramas was not the only necropolis to be floating above Stratholme, and was joined by 12 lesser-yet still incredibly powerful-structures.
Feeding off the pervasive Death energy radiating from the land, these temples dedicated toward the destruction of all life on Azeroth operated on an almost unlimited supply of foul mana.
Situated all across the broken city walls, dozens of towers had sprung up. Mounting putrid black-green gemstones on top, these ziggurats acted much like Elven Arcane Towers. They were capable of unleashing high rates of sustained magical damage.
And yet this was only the beginning.
In the dark of the night, and under the covered darkness of a moonless, cloudy hour of dread, ten million forest critters lurked nearby. Cats, rats, deer, horses, rabbits, crows, snakes, every animal imaginable stalked the land. Just as hungry for fresh flesh as their humanoid counterparts, these Undead animals sported sickly green pus filled wounds. A deadly plague had been implanted in them.
More and more Undead filed into the walls of Stratholme, the students of Scholomance reinforced magical wards, and a chapter of the first willing Death Knights to pledge themselves to the Lich King had arrived.
Led by the Legendary Hero Thassarian, this was but one of many such commanders filing into Stratholme.
Countless other factions, and their leaders found themselves within the throne room of Naxxramas.
The largest hosts that were not directly under Kel’Thuzad 's thrall were the composed of six factions. Each and every one of them headed by a Legendary Hero.
The first group was headed by Alonsus Faol.
Founder of the Silver Hand, Faol had gone crazy with his forced resurrection, and blasphemed against the Gods.His mouth was bound tight, as Faol's heresy was offensive to Aedra, Daedra, Titans, Voidlings, Fel Gods, and more. The condemnation of the universe had made him a pariah, a cursed being. Shriveled like a prune, and possessing pale, mummified skin, Faol was lethargic in his movements, yet none could deny the absolute power coursing through his blackened veins, and the keen intelligence hidden behind his eyes. He brought with him 2 Heroic bodyguards, and a thousand Elites, yet all who knew of him understood that these troops were nothing more than garnish when compared to the old man himself.
The second was headed by Lady Deathwhisper.
Deathwhisper had acted as the former chief spy master and assassin of Lordaeron. Enticed by immortality, she had been an early convert to the Cult of the Damned, and was instrumental in the spread of plagued grain to the masses.
Controlling a cadre of 8 Heroic Rogues, she was rumored to possess a spy network that ran from Booty Bay to Quel'Danas.
The third was ruled over by the leader of Scholomance, the Lich, Ras Frostwhisper.
Bringing with him a large group of wizards, and living humans numbering in the hundreds, they specialized in repairing Undead constructs, and acted as the healers for the Scourge.
Lastly, there were three groups that were not large enough-or powerful enough-to be called a faction, but their power was undeniable, and so they had a position within Kel’Thuzad 's throne room.
They were:
Grand Necrolord Antiok was a scythe wielding, hooded, bony Undead who no one knew much about. However, when a Heroic Death Knight tried to bar his entrance, the giant companion easily smooshed the Death Knight in one move.
Lord Marrowgore, a construct of the Lich King's, he possessed a thousand personalities, and was a Legendary Hero gifted to Kel’Thuzad by the Lich King in times past, yet was too troublesome to directly command a force of his own.
Lastly, was Professor Putricide. An average looking Undead, and cloaked in a lab coat, Putricide was seemingly weak, yet his potions proved instrumental in creating Elites. He served as the primary experimental weapons manufacturer for all Scourge forces within the Plaguelands.
Many others had been invited, but were either too minor of note, or had declined Kel’Thuzad's generous welcome.
All these important figures had gathered within the gaunt halls of Naxxramas to discuss the future of the Scourge.
To discuss one monumental shift within the power dynamic, and structure of their haunted organization.
Pale silver light flickered from numerous torches within the throne room, casting shadows upon all its occupants. As the Death Knight, Thassarian entered the chamber, a slow, squeaky gate shut with a heavy thoomp, signaling the beginning of the meeting.
“The Lich King is dead.” Kel’Thuzad's dry, academic sounding voice penetrated the halls of the throne room, and ended the silence.
The Lich spoke with such finality, that none could deny him. They had all felt it, the shift in their souls, the shackles lifted. To deny Kel’Thuzad this statement would be to appear as a fool before this council.
No, this was a body of warlords, opportunists, and bannerless wayward souls.
Stratholme was a bastion of power, and Kel’Thuzad was the mountain peak.
These Legendary Heroes did not come because of the Lich King, they came to Naxxramas because of Kel’Thuzad!
“Deathwhisper, can you confirm this?” Ras Frostwhisper asked.
“It is so. My sources spotted a purple Elf chanting the words to a most powerful spell that shook Azeroth. This witness coincides with the time we felt the Lich King's grasp over us wither.” Deathwhisper, clad in midnight shadow glanced at everyone in the room, making sure she was the center of attention.
“Let us not mince words. The Lich King is no more, and we must move to the future. My company and I answered your summons, Lich. What is your intention?” A seemingly brash fellow in all plate armor asked. It was Thassarian, the Heroic Death Knight.
All eyes left the pair of Legendary Heroes, and turned to gaze at Kel'Thuzad with a heavy intensity.
“What intention? Isn't it obvious? Surely you have an inkling as to why I have gathered you all here.” Kel’Thuzad lazily drawled, and steepled his fingers together as if he were some deep thinker.
“How boring. How can we trust the words of someone named Deathwhisper? How childish can one be? Thiassi, crush their bones.” The cowled Antiok ordered.
“Me make bone paste.” The giant dumbly replied, then lunged at Kel’Thuzad.
Running on all fours across the throne room, the 14ft tall Undead creature moved at speeds that belied its large height.
“You shall respect Lord Kel’Thuzad!” A mounted knight shouted, and galloped at the giant in a head on charge.
The pair of Undead battled one another valiantly for no more than two minutes, yet the horseman had been steadily losing ground.
“Sir Zeliek.” Kel’Thuzad said in a bored tone.
“But my liege, I can press this beast back, I-”
With but a glance from the Lich, the air shivered, and although he was deceased, Zeliek shivered too, as he felt something press upon his soul.
As soon as the mounted knight retreated, the slobbering giant resumed his encroachment, and closed with the seated Lich.
“Frost Nova.” Kel’Thuzad slowly intoned, never once deigning to point a finger or do something so mundane as chant a lengthy spell.
Upon the casual utterance of this word, mana flared, and a solid explosion of ice + Death energy impacted the giant.
Encased in a solid block of ice, the giant struggled to break free. Cracks began to form in the ice as Thiassi strained his unholy muscles with all his might.
“Impressive. You have done well creating this creature.” Kel’Thuzad praised in a monotone.
“Heh, this is nothing. Thiassi, obliterate!” Antiok commanded, and at the same time, cast some buffing spell.
An orange aura surrounded the giant, and flames ate away at the prison of ice, swiftly turning it into nothing more than a puddle.
“Hoh? Infusing Elemental Fire into your minion. Quite an ingenious idea, but the execution appears to be rather roughshod.” Kel’Thuzad leaned back on his throne, and rested his bony chin on his knuckles.
Antiok merely chuckled in response.
The creature was in a rage now, and held out a hand the size of a small cart, and moved to crush Kel’Thuzad's skull.
Kel’Thuzad let out a cold breath of discontent.
That breath was nothing more than a small ball of white mist, the size of a fist.
Yet when that mist collided with the giant’s fist, a chain reaction occurred.
Steam became readily apparent, then a tst-boom sound resounded in the chamber.
A large amount of smoke formed as a result, and when it cleared, all the occupants of the room saw that Kel’Thuzad was still leaning back in a bored posture, whilst the splattered remains of the giant were apparent for all to see.
“Still bored?” Kel’Thuzad rapped his bony fingers along his arm rest, and looked down upon the cloaked Necrolord.
“Antiok pays homage to the Cult Master. Please accept this small token as my appreciation for your skills.” The robed Undead bowed, and then released ten thousand souls from a locket.
The howling, tortured victims were just about to dissipate, yet Kel’Thuzad sharply inhaled, sealing their fate.
Eyes glowing, and brimming with power, Kel’Thuzad ever so slightly, microscopically inclined his head, accepting the act of subservience.
After a moment of silence, Kel’Thuzad finally deigned to speak.
“A threat has emerged that seeks our destruction. Prepare yourselves.” Kel’Thuzad spoke these words as a warning, and omen for the future.
“The Cult Master speaks truth. The Dreadlords have control of half the Eastern Kingdoms & Quel'Thalas, Gilneas is mustering their troops for an offensive, and a new Undead warlord has emerged in Kul'Tiras. We are surrounded on all sides. Allying now is the sound course of action.” Deathwhisper loudly raised her voice, hoping her analysis would be heard.
“Someone take out a map. We must plot our next move. Quel'Thalas is closest, should we move north…” Thassarian said.
The rest of the Legendary Heroes began to plot and plan with one another, yet Kel’Thuzad looked at them as if they were all simpletons.
They did not understand why he had concentrated his power, and gathered them here at all.
Their minds were stuck on the Dreadlords, Humans, and other Undead rivals. They didn't even know what a Night Elf was, or what one wielding such powerful magic meant for this land.
But Kel’Thuzad knew.
He felt it burning deep in his core.
A new breath of unlimited mana and energy coursed within him.
Reborn from a pool of cosmic power, Kel’Thuzad had a link to it since he had transcended life and became a Lich.
The Sunwells' return coincided with his master's demise. The Elves had made a comeback.
In fact, the High Elves were a major reason why he had chosen to become an Undead. His entire quest for immortality had been spawned from an intense jealousy. That as a Human, his time spent studying, and agonizing over magic was but a blink of the eye for his Elvish ‘colleagues.’
Whilst he grew grey and withered, they laughed and partied.
So smug and self assured of themselves, Kel’Thuzad had experienced triumph when his lord, Arthas defiled their land, and brought him back as his loyal subject.
But that fanciful dream was ruined, and now they must all prepare for a reckoning.
If anyone truly understood the mystical might of the Elves, it was him. As Stratholme shared a border with Quel’Thalas, it was only logical that he should be the first target of their ire.
Eyes glowing a cold ice blue, Kel’Thuzad stared into his scrying orb with icy vexation as he received an update.
The Elves of Quel'Thalas had arrived, the mana surging from their position was so overwhelming, even the Death Knights could feel it.
Silence once more enveloped the throne room, before all its occupants began to break out in a panic. Some shouted at Kel'Thuzad angrily, accusing him of luring them into a trap, others tried to flee at that very moment.
He did not care. These tools would serve their purpose.
Power swirling about his body, Kel’Thuzad began to issue orders to all his forces, and mobilized every last iota of his will to manage this impossibly large host.
Some small part of him was pleased that the Elves had not perished to Arthas, despite his intense loathing for them.
For now, he was granted the opportunity to mete out his revenge personally!
Comments
Michael DiVelbiss
Well that adds some context to Kel'Thuzad that I wasn't aware of in normal lore. On top of being enticed to eternal power, he was also jealous of the seemingly immortal and well off Sun Elves? That tracks. Even Varrus hated them most times and he is one. You're good at teeing up momentous moments in stories Karp. Good writing.
