Prelude (Capture Story Arc, Part 1) - First Draft

Two figures stood in a small chamber, securely locked from prying eyes and discreetly warded to thwart scrying magic. The calls of street merchants and the rattle of carts echoed faintly from the square below. Both doors leading to the balcony were securely barred, dark-red and gold curtains drawn against the light of the setting sun. A slow dying fire spat and hissed in the hearth. One of the figures took a seat behind a massive, ornate desk, and paused to grind out a small coal on the hearthstones with his boot. His companion remained silent, waiting and watching as patiently as the carved stone sentinels flanking the gates opening into the heart of the city. The first figure locked eyes with the second, a grim smile slowly working its way onto classical, golden features. He reached for a sheaf of maps rolled into a bundle before him, and spoke in a low voice intended for his companion alone.

"Thank you for attending me this evening, Knight-Lord. I know the trip from Northrend is long and exhausting, but I wouldn't have summoned you here unless the need was urgent. Be seated." Lord Solanar Bloodwrath, second-in-command of the Bloodknight Order, rested bare, calloused hands on the edge of his desk as he flicked his gaze over his underling. Maelthas Bloodhawk, the Commander of Ana'alah Belore, the Sun's Wrath Battalion, saluted with practiced expertise and took the seat the Lord indicated. His glowing gaze, burning with silent question, came to rest on his superior once more.

Lord Solanar unrolled his sheaf of maps and fished out a small packet of stained missives hidden within them. He snapped the tie securing them and turned these around to face the Commander. "These are intelligence reports gathered from the Order's network of scouts and informants. Our experts have examined them carefully, and confirmed the information within. According to our agents, the Cult of the Damned is on the move." The Knight-Lord's eyes narrowed dangerously at the news.

The higher-ranked Blood Knight continued. "In three days' time, a pivotal figure in the Cult is landing in Northrend. He's collecting secret intelligence from one of the Lich King's lieutenants at the Fleshworks in Icecrown, then traveling on to the main citadel itself to report to the Lich King. The Order will not allow this traitor to reach his murderous Master alive."

Lord Solanar paused to allow the Knight-Lord to read through the reports. The red-haired Blood Knight's expression grew grimmer and colder as he rifled through the documents. Maelthas' gaze snapped up to meet his superior's own. "I'm no spy, Lord Solanar, and subterfuge isn't my strong suit. Why reveal this to me, instead of one of our hidden knives? This work is their expertise, not mine."

The golden-haired Blood Knight shook his head at Maelthas' question. "Because disguises only go so far. This traitor, this bastard servant of the Lich King, is a powerful warlock now, but he once served Quel'thalas as one of the Guardians." Lord Solanar slid a tattered piece of parchment across the desk to Maelthas. A detailed sketch of a strongly built Sin'dorei with tangled red hair stared malevolently up from the page.

"His name is Araeys Dreadthorne. You'll note that he bears more than a passing resemblance to you, Knight-Lord. More importantly, he travels with an elite retinue of Cultists, all cunning and dangerous in their own right. The Order doesn't have a corresponding team waiting in Northrend to match them. You, and your people, are already in place. It's my command that you gather a small, dedicated squad of individuals that I've selected from among your ranks, and meet with the spy who brought us this final report. You're to eliminate Dreadthorne and his escort, infiltrate the Scourge ranks, and bring back this Scourge lieutenant's intelligence to the Order." Lord Solanar locked a steely gaze on his Commander. "You can tell no one of this mission -- not your officers, not your family, not your companions. One word of this leaking out will spell disaster for the mission. Do you understand me, Knight-Lord?"

Maelthas' chair scraped against the floor as he rose to give his answer. "By your will, Lord. I will see this mission done, or die." The hearth fire breathed its last in one final, defiant crackle as the two Blood Knights' eyes glowed with their own individual vengeful light.