Memoires (Part 5 - The Great Masquerade)

I'll never forget the first time I visited Stormwind City. It was after our defeat of Van Cleef; the local Captain had referred us onwards to the keep in the capital itself, where we were to receive commendations for our valour. We set off on foot with Zacker leading the way, although this was hardly necessary, given that the footpaths in Elwynn Forest were well trodden and well marked with directions.

The path we trod wound ever upwards through the verdant forest, threading it's way through thick oaks and wild grass of a brilliant shade of green. The canopies of the trees were not so thick as to block out sunlight, and so the trail was well lit, with everything bathed in a golden green hue. Bird song filled the air, which smelled to my keen elfin nose of life in all its vibrancy - somewhat different to the placid and timeless musk of Teldrassil.

Suddenly, as we crested a rise in the path, the trees suddenly thinned and the entrance to Stormwind was revealed. The polished white of the city walls jutted out from the grey of the surrounding rock. The gravelled path beneath our feet gave way to pristine white flagstones as we passed through the front gate, comprising of two massive wooden doors that were currently swung wide open, welcoming any and all. The on-duty guard gave us a courteous nod as we passed. Overhead, the cries of gryphons could be heard as they bore travellers to and from the busy trade districts on great thrusts of white feathered wings.

Directly beyond the front gate was the so called Valley of Heroes. The wide walkway was bordered by sheer drops on either side - fifty metres at least to the deep moat below. It was flanked by four statues - two a side - dedicated to the brave heroes who sacrificed themselves in order to keep the demon hordes of the Burning Legion beyond the Dark Portal. The gilded marble of the four monoliths glinted in the sun, and I felt a wave of reverence wash over me. We continued walking and saw a fifth statue stood at the head of the path.

"Hail Turalyon," murmured Zacker, almost out of reflex, as we walked past.

The keep of Stormwind was quiet, perhaps held in the grip of a mid-morning lull, as we entered and showed our papers to the guards. They escorted us through the marbled corridors, resplendant with woven tapestries and painted glass, to a side room, for an audience with the Captain of the guard. As we passed the throne room, I couldn't help but sneak a glance in. My eyes met that of a woman's, who returned the gaze coldly. Although I knew she probably meant no malice, I somehow felt a shiver run through me.

"Zacker, who's that woman in the throne room?" I whispered to our resident human, not wishing to disturb too much the austere silence within the corridors we walked in.
"The one in the red dress with the cold stare?" she replied, and upon seeing my nod, continued. "That's Lady Katrana Prestor, one of the advisors to the king."
"One of?"
"The other one is Bolvar Fordragon, you must know of him, surely?"

I nodded, but then had another question, being all too aware of my pitiful knowledge of the humans as I asked it.

"Who's the king?"
"Varian Wrynn," began Zacker, and then stopped and shook her head,  "Sorry, his son, Anduin Wrynn. Varian disappeared some weeks ago on a diplomatic mission to Theramore Island."
"King!" Snorted Chaspal quietly, "the boy is barely ten years old. At that age he should be lucky to be recognised as a man, let alone a king."

We arrived then at the Captain's quarters, and no more was said.

Stormwind City Panorama

As I stepped from gravel to flagstone once again, many months later, I remembered that day and the look in Lady Katrana Prestor's eyes. Up ahead, Chaspal was conversing with a man who held in his hands evidence of a conspiracy. It was evidence that would change Stormwind forever. I gripped the knurling of my staff, feeling not only the carefully crafted oak, but also the flow of the enchantments that coursed within. Reginald Windsor, a Marshal of Stormwind, had come a long road to deliver his information, and we, the Revenants, were determined to see it through to the end.

We first happened on Windsor as he was locked in a cell, kept as a prisoner of the Dark Iron Dwarves in the Blackrock Depths. We freed him, but he refused to leave his cell; he was a man who had succumbed to the depths of despair. He talked only of his notes; ones that were taken from him by the Dark Iron Dwarves, and how they contained evidence of vital importance; evidence of treason in the keep, evidence which had to be presented lest the downfall of Stormwind occur.

We left him in his cell, but his words did not leave our mind. Deep in the Blackrock Depths, we discovered Windsor's notes in a cache and brought them back to him. His mood changed from despondancy to determination in a heartbeat, and now, he wanted to leave. We broke him out of the prison, overwhelming the best efforts of the wardens and escaped with him back to the surface. He bade us gather as much of an army as we could and to meet him at the gates of Stormwind. Chaspal acted immediately, and scarcely had a day passed that the full force of the Revenants stood assembled at the gate. The on duty guard was very confused and passerby civilians stopped and stared.

Finally, Windsor turned to address us. "My friends, thank you for coming to Stormwind's assistance in this hour of need. In these notes, I hold evidence of the treason of Lady Katrana Prestor." I felt my heart skip a beat; accusing nobles of treason was not something one did lightly.

"We march to the palace to confront her, and to bring her to justice. You join me of your own free will, friends. Let the light be with us all."

He turned and drew his sword, sliding noiselessly out of it's well oiled sheath. "Walk with me!" 

We obeyed his command, our own weapons at the ready. The clouded sky, which had all day been threatening to rain, announced its arrival with a booming thunderclap and a flash of lightning.

We walked.

The streets were emptying quickly as people sought cover from the incipient downpour. The water ran down my neck and arms, quickly drenching my robes which clung to my body. A wind whipped through the city, moaning around the trees and houses, snatching warmth from drenched bodies. Rain drummed on roofs and cobblestones.

We walked.

Through the trade district, past the market square fountain, crossing a bridge which spanned one of the many canals in the city. I could see people peering out of windows at us, wondering why such a band of armed men and women were being allowed to roam loose in the city, and why they were being led by a man dressed in the uniform of the Stormwind guard.

We walked.

The entrance to the keep was blocked. The General of the Stormwind army sat atop his horse, impassive, flanked by twice as many men as we had. Windsor raised a hand for us to stop.

"On the orders of Lady Katrana Prestor, I am to detain you and your allies as criminals," said the general.
"Marcus," said Reginald,"Katrana Prestor is a traitor. Her words are as poison to this kingdom!"

The horse whinnied slightly. Rain pelted down, drumming off the steel of the city guard's armour.

"Reginald, you know I cannot let you past."

"You must do what you think is right, Marcus. We served together under Turalyon. He made us both the men that we are today. Did he err with me? Do you truly believe my intent is to cause harm to our Alliance? Would I shame our heroes?" He paused and took off his helmet, speaking in earnest, "Holding me here is not the right decision, Marcus."

 
The general did not reply for a while, appearing to be lost in contemplation.

 
"I am ashamed, old friend. I know not what I do anymore. It is not you that would dare bring shame to the heroes of legend - it is I. It is I and the rest of these corrupt politicians. They fill our lives with empty promises, unending lies," he paused, dealing with the weight of his realisation, "We shame our ancestors. We shame those lost to us... forgive me, Reginald."
"Dear friend, you honor them with your vigilant watch. You are steadfast in your allegiance. I do not doubt for a moment that you would not give as great a sacrifice for your people as any of the heroes you stand under. Now, it is time to bring her reign to and end, Marcus. Stand down, friend."

The general wheeled his horse to face his men, gesturing with his arms as he pulled his steed to one side. "Stand down! Move aside! Let them pass! Reginald Windsor is not to be harmed! He shall pass through untouched!"

Reginald Windsor bowed his head slightly, and donned his helmet. We followed him as he walked into the keep unchallenged.

 
"May the light guide your hands," said Marcus to us, as we passed him.

The path to the throne room was straight, albeit ascending three ramped levels.

"Onward!" shouted Windsor, who broke into a jog. We followed suit. Adrenaline coursed through my body; fear and excitement, and a dreadful sense of foreboding. Surprised servants and nobles scattered out of our way as we advanced up the keep.

We burst into the throne room, swords at the ready. The drapes and tapestries billowed as the outside wind howled up the main hall through the open keep door. I looked around the room, it was a large hexagonal chamber with guards lining the walls. Lady Prestor stood at the centre, along with a man I presumed was Bolvar Fordragon. The child king sat on a wooden throne which was far too big for him.

"Majesty, run while you still can. She is not what you think her to be...!" shouted Reginald, 
"To the safe hall, your majesty!" commanded Bolvar, directing the child king away from the imminent confrontation.

Reginald waited until the king had disappeared and the door had been barred, before he advanced on Lady Prestor, who stood with a slightly amused expression on her face. However, no trace of this reached her eyes, narrowed as they were into thin malevolent slits.

 
"The masquerade is over, Lady Prestor. Or should I call you by your true name... Onyxia...!"

The Lady laughed, a sound devoid of mirth, but very much full of malice. She pointed with her staff at the Marshal.

"You will be incarcerated and tried for treason, Windsor. I shall watch with glee as they hand down a guilty verdict and sentence you to death by hanging...and as your limp body dangles from the rafters, I shall take pleasure in knowing that a mad man has been put to death. After all, what proof do you have? Did you expect to come in here and point your fingers at royalty and leave unscathed?"

"You will not escape your fate, Onyxia. It has been prophesied - a resonating vision brought to me. It ends now..." said Reginald, bringing out his crumpled and wetted notes, "The Dark Iron Dwarves thought these notes to be encoded. This is not any form of coding, it is the tongue of ancient dragon!"

Lady Prestor looked slightly taken aback. Reginald continued.

"Listen, dragon. Let the truth resonate throughout these halls!"

He looked down at his notes and began to read. Suddenly, sounds began to flow through my consciousness, a subtle sibilance which suddenly shattered the illusion of the black haired woman in the red dress standing before me. I saw Bolvar Fordragon gasp in surprise.

 

Lady Prestor smiled, "I'm curious... Windsor, in this vision, did you survive? I only ask because one thing that I can and will assure is your death. Here and now."

Things happened very quickly. I felt an eruption of magic, as Lady Prestor revealed her true form. It knocked me over onto the floor. I heard the splintering of wood as she shattered the throne with her claws and then I sat up to see the dragon that was Onyxia. Her purple scaled wings nearly stretched from wall to wall, and her head was adorned with two sharp horns, she blinked her great reptilian eyes and lunged at Reginald, impaling him with one of her claws.

I scrambled to get out of the way as claws and tail swung around the room, cleaving chunks of rock from the wall. The great tapestries which decorated the throne room were instantly turned into shreds of cloth. Windsor lay in a bloody mess in one corner of the room, thrown by the force of the blow. I heard Bolvar shouting for the guards to seize Onyxia, and I heard Chaspal shouting for us to attack. 

There was hardly any space to move, and hemmed in such tight confines, Onyxia was more deadly than ever and her frenzy had put us into total disarray. She turned and slapped with her wings, clawed and bit and whipped. But she was surrounded, and could not help but surrender an opening; as her tail caught me square in the chest, knocking me to the floor, I saw Bolvar rush at her, raising his giant two handed claymore to pierce her exposed throat. I saw her blink, and then, she was gone, teleported away. He pierced air.

The sudden silence was somehow deafening. The force of the blow had left me struggling to breathe, spots clouded my vision as I tried to clear my head. I saw through the haze as Bolvar threw down his sword and ran over to Reginald, cradling his broken body.

"Reginald... I... I am sorry."
"Bolvar... the medallion... use..."

I saw Marshal Windsor's body go limp as his life left him, forever leaving the sentence incomplete. Chaspal came over and helped me climb, teetering, to my feet. I noticed a large rip in his leather jerkin, caked with blood that seemed to radiate a soft golden glow - the sign of heavy healing spell usage.

Bolvar stood, laying Reginald carefully onto the floor. He turned to address us, holding up in his hands an oddly shaped amulet. It was sharp edged, and was purple coloured and lined with gold.

"I believe this is the medallion Reginald spoke of. It was given to me as a gift by Onyxia, perhaps as a means of subduing me. Nevertheless, it has also allowed me to see where her lair lies - the Wyrmbog in Dustwallow marsh. She must be slain."

He looked at us expectantly.

"We'll do it," I said, the words leaping their way out of my mouth. I got a few stares from the other members.

Bolvar smiled. He then handed me the amulet, "This will allow you entry to her lair. I realise the true nature of this amulet now - it is one of her scales, and will nullify the magical wards that she has placed," he paused, and bowed to us. "Go with the blessings of the light. You are all truly heroes."

This quest line was one of the best ones in the game. Absolutely epic.