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The column kept a reasonably brisk pace throughout the afternoon, despite or possibly because of the oppressive humidity of the swamp surrounding them. The human soldiers would ever so often glance warily to the sides as the incessant growls and cries of the native fauna filled the air unceasingly – by noticeable contrast, the Draenic cohorts maintained their stoic discipline and kept their attention fixed on their forward momentum, save for those on the flanks who kept their eyes trained on their surroundings to either side in case of an opportune ambush. The road was distinguishable only by simply being a particularly well-beaten passage through the choking trees; the Draenei ambassador remarked once to the dispatch captain the possibility of reinforcing it with cobblestones, but Theluin diplomatically intervened, pointing out the inherent difficulty with the poorly supported mud sediments pervading the marshy landscape. The topic was not brought up again.
The column picked up almost imperceptibly as the trees suddenly began to thin out, a palpable air of relief among the human ranks. The transition in terrain was no less unnaturally abrupt as that between the infamous mountain pass far to the west and the soggy swamp they had just traversed, but it was still fundamentally different. Like before, the swamp trees petered out within a few yards, the fertile soil of the swamplands yielding to barren earth and naked rock, but where the soil of Deadwind Pass had been a dreary, inert grey, this land was a dark, almost purplish red.
There was another, much less tenable but nevertheless perfectly noticeable divergence. Deadwind Pass was for all intents and purposes a dead land; nothing but thorny, resilient shrub would grow in the huge, winding ravines, and what little wildlife eked out a paltry existence in its depths kept to itself, away from the main road. There were other roads that led elsewhere, but few ever had a reason to venture along those and fewer still returned. The only thing that ever seemed to move was the wind – dead, carrying no promise but bone-chilling cold and misery, whistling and whining through petrified trees and branches turned to stone, that would never carry leaves or flowers again. It was as if the landscape itself had been slowly drained of its very life force over the years until nothing but void remained. And so it stood, an enigma to the perpetuation of life, sterile and abandoned by redemption until time would loop back to its genesis and the world would be reforged anew.
The territory that the column now entered was in some ways similar, and in others utterly opposite. Where Deadwind Pass was little more than a single, precipitous canyon stretching in an odd S-shape from north to south, this place was an open wasteland of jagged rock and scorched earth. Where the wind of Deadwind Pass only smelled of dust and eons, the atmosphere here was saturated by an altogether malevolent aura, a metallic, stinging stink only barely on the cusp of mortal senses, reminiscent of some dark mixture of blood and sulphur and a strange, otherworldly quality that could only be described by one word.
Nether.
This land knew no peace, and had known none for well over two decades. This land had not been slowly drained of life until the passage of time had taken it far beyond the point of no return – it had had it ripped from its bowels by terrifying onslaughts of unspeakable power, burnt out of its soil by felfire and the fury of war. It was a twisted, broken landscape, violated and claimed by forces whose only purpose in existence was to spread this kind of destruction to every corner of the universe. These were the Blasted Lands.
The column picked up its speed further as the ranks crossed into the forbidding terrain, the humans clearly unsettled by the demonic taint that pervaded every inch of the place. In the Swamp of Sorrows, the men had been on their toes simply out of old enmity and diehard soldier’s discipline – now their faces were taking on a distinct element of fear and terror. The Draenei warriors only hardened their already stoic complexions, some in sorrow, others in silently fuming vengefulness, but all of them in unified determination. It was obvious even to an untrained eye that they had seen this kind of landscape before, that they knew beyond a doubt who and what was responsible. And that they were here to put an end to it.
There was more than enough reason to be on high alert. Sufficiently far away to not be an immediate threat, but certainly close enough to curdle the blood of the unwary, twisting, unearthly forms and shapes seemed to condense out of thin air only to dissipate almost immediately, dark entities clawing furiously at the veil of reality to manifest in physical form but never quite making it. The mounted personnel had to urge their various steeds into a slow trot to keep pace with the infantry.
Eleazar found his attention repeatedly pulled towards Tuan, since the she-rogue had turned increasingly terse and few of words as they had crossed into the bleak landscape. Her hesitance was becoming apparent, not only in her declining temperament but in the way she kept slacking on the reins, letting Sandy fall behind repeatedly. When she finally let out a low grunt, pinching the bridge of her nose with a clear expression of discomfort, Eli couldn’t hold it in any longer.
He reined in Abolition gently, matching pace with the other stallion and leaned over slightly. “Miss Tuan, are y’ alright?”
She glanced up at him with a minuscule start, as if she was surprised by his presence. Then she shook her head minutely, squeezing her eyes shut and furrowing her brow. “… it’s … it’s nothing, Eli. Nothing to worry about.”
He didn’t buy that for a second. “You’re in pain, Miss Tuan. Is the journey getting to you? We’ll be at Nethergarde Keep within the hour, y’ just have to hold out ‘til then.”
Tuan couldn’t hold back a low chuckle, and then frowned again. “It’s … it’s not that, Eli. I’m used to travelling on horseback, heavens know I’m used to it.” She paused and glanced at him again, a hint of acknowledgment settling in her eyes as she met his determined gaze. “It’s just a headache. I get it every time I come here.”
He blinked, momentarily perplexed. “What … why’d you get that? I mean, if you were a mage I think I’d understand, but …” He motioned to the landscape surrounding them.
She shook her head again and turned away. “Let’s just not talk about it, okay?” She sighed heavily. “It’s not going to get better, Eli, just accept it.”
He drew a deep breath and fixed her firmly with his ice-blue gaze. “With all due respect, Miss Tuan, if you’re in pain, I’m not going ta sit idly by an’ watch you suffer.”
She gave him a weak smile. “You’re a kind person, Eli.” Then she lowered her head again with another weary sigh, rubbing her temple restlessly.
He gave her a helpless look and tapped Abolition into a light trot, catching up with Theluin who had also gone eerily quiet. Eli pulled level with the massive saber cat. “Sir Theluin, it’s drivin’ me nuts.”
Theluin looked up at the Paladin, the same concern etched clearly into his Kaldorei features. “It has begun, hasn’t it?”
Eli exhaled in frustration. “If ye’re talkin’ ‘bout this weird headache she’s having, then yes, I guess so.” He looked over at the elderly Night Elf. “Is this something that’s happen’d before?”
Theluin nodded slightly, looking ahead. “It appears to occur whenever she is in the presence of powerful arcane artefacts, especially the kind designed for transport between disparate locations.”
Eli blinked. “You mean, like … portals?” He drew a quick breath. “The Portal? She’s reacting to the Portal? How is that even—”
“Hey! I’d appreciate if people didn’t talk smack about me the moment I get out of sight!”
Tuan came briskly trotting up to them on Sandy, her expression an odd mixture of diffuse agony, resentful resignation and a poor attempt at a wry, dismissive smirk. It looked more like a pained grimace. Eli wisely bit down on the crafty retort he was about to make. This was not the time for pointless banter.
Before he could say anything in reply, she pulled level with them and brought Sandy to the same pace as their steeds, leaning heavily on her hands against the pommel.
She spoke at length. “Look … it’s not like I haven’t been here before. I’ve been running errands and escorts and what-have-you to Nethergarde since before the Scourge invaded with their damned floaty ziggurats.” She raised a hand and rubbed her temple. Eli waited patiently.
He didn’t have to wait long, as she continued in a low, toneless voice. “Usually I’m in and out like a fart in the wind, or at least as close to that effect as I can get.” She cracked a lopsided smile, and Eli smiled back gently. “Now, with the dispatch …” She paused, pinching the bridge of her nose. “We’ve had to keep pace with the infantry, and that’s given a lot of things a lot of time to sneak up on me. And I don’t like being snuck up on.” She growled low in her throat. “Gods, I hate this place.”
“Have y’ consider’d any kind of remedy? It’d be fairly easy t’ make an herb infus—” Eli cut himself off quickly when the she-rogue shot him a surprisingly hostile glare.
“I’ll ride on ahead,” she snapped tersely. “With any luck, the resident commander might even recognize me.” She kicked Sandy into a gallop, swiftly overtaking the column and disappearing in a cloud of purplish dust.
Eli shook his head in defeat. Theluin looked up at him compassionately.
“Do not pamper her, my friend. Right now, it will only serve to antagonize her.”
The Paladin threw out a hand in aggravation. “Light help me, I can’t just do nothing!”
“I don’t expect you to either.” The elderly Night Elf’s voice was soothing, and Eli found his rising temper momentarily placated. Theluin stroke his trimmed raven beard in thought. “I will look through what medicinal herbs I have brought along. There should be enough to make a suitable pain suppressant. Mostly she tends to drink her discomfort off, but I fear that will not be an option where we are ultimately headed.”
Eli nodded, his frustration eased for the time being. “I’ll keep an eye on her, Sir Priest, if y’ doan’ mind.”
Theluin smiled faintly. “I won’t. Just tread carefully – she is not entirely stable right now, and the last thing we need is for her to … fly off the handle, I believe the saying goes?”
Eli smiled a little lopsidedly in return. “Aye, that would be th’ prop’r wording, sir Theluin.” He sighed. “A’right, I’ll be discreet. But I will step in if it’s getting too much.”
Theluin nodded approvingly. “As is only right and proper for a caring soul.”
They spent the brief remainder of the trip in silence, as the walls of Nethergarde Keep began to loom up in the distance.
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Originally written by Tuan Taureo
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