Waifu Catalog: Warcraft Beta Tester

5/13

The thicket was deep, the thorns were sharp, and Imriss was being hunted. He had been only a whelp, one of dozens brought along to help patrol around the temple of Hakkar and ensure it couldn’t be misused. He had been there when Lord Eranikus had led some of his most elite troops into the depths, though he had stayed outside with the majority of his flight. He desperately wished he knew what had happened, because only days later the madness had begun.

Imriss was a green dragon; entering the Emerald Dream mentally was as simple as normal sleep, and quite nearly as necessary. As each member of the flight had dreamed, they didn’t wake. Something terribly important must be happening on the other side, they had thought. They’d been right, in the worst possible way.

Imriss had succumbed to the call of the Dream, and found only nightmares on the other side. Normally the dream was fresh and vibrant, a world untouched by the mortal races. Not always safe, but pure and natural. What he’d found instead was indeed untouched by mortals, but only because no sane mortal would ever want to bring it about. Every beast and plant was turned against the emerald dragon, twisted into great thorny monstrosities, and his fellows were nowhere to be seen. Everything was a sea of grey, black, and pulsating red.

There was a tug around his neck, an icy shadow grasping at his throat, which he couldn’t shake. He didn’t know what it was, only that it was inescapable, and it claimed it wanted to help him. He didn’t trust it; he couldn’t trust anything here.

••••••••••

Mistress Nozara came to collect her steeds, as imperious as always. She looked over the beasts with a clinical eye,
"You have done well this time," the demoness said. "I am pleased."

Zelena bowed her head, relieved. Mistress Nozara was her direct superior, and the strongest demon she ever spoke to normally. Zelena always worried when she needed to speak to the Eredar face to face; Zelena’s life and future was always in danger when Nozara was present.

"Thank you, mistress," she managed to say with an even tone.

Nozara gave a more detailed inspection to Spark, who was standing obediently in the lineup. Some of the fire was gone from his eyes after the procedure, but he was able to run both faster and for longer periods. It had been good work.

"That will do nicely," Nozara said, surveying them all one last time. "Now I want you to go back to your herd and prepare for next season. We will need more.” Zelena might as well have been slapped. These were her finest steeds, and she had been thanked with a pat on the head and told to run along home. She wanted to cry. She wanted to scream. She wanted someone to make her feel useful. She wanted to be needed and respected.

But Nozara was right. She had done well. She had done what she was commanded, and that was all the praise she deserved. In the Burning Legion it was all she could expect: more of the same work, with the same conditions. But if she bound herself to a warlock, perhaps she could be more. Perhaps she might be valued; after all, she was already a slave.
"Very well, my lady," she answered. "I shall return to my duties now."

The Eredar turned away and headed out of the shed, ten felsteeds in tow. She paused before she exited, turning back to Zelena. "And bring me another one tomorrow for my own stable. I can’t always be relying on Witherwing when I’m in enclosed spaces, now can I?”

The demoness bowed again. "As you wish, my lady," she said. Then she followed the rest of them out into the night, leaving Zelena alone in the stable with her thoughts. Thoughts which increasingly turned to the service of a handsome, powerful warlock whenever she let her mind wander. She felt angry at herself for allowing that to happen, but she couldn't help it. She wanted to be needed. And if this was the way that she found to achieve that, then so be it. She needed to find Mezzo; perhaps he knew more. He’d been summoned after all.

••••••••••

“Oh yes of course. You are our long standing allies; we would never simply leave you without support. Lady Kennedy, would you come over here. I have someone for you to meet. This is Caledra Dawnbreeze of Quel’Lithien lodge. Would you be willing to hear her proposal?” Katrana put on a concerned, sympathetic face. Kennedy had a fondness for high elves, partly due to her obsession with the campaign of the Sons of Lothar, the last time the elves had properly allied with Stormwind. She’d be receptive to this foolishness.

Caledra started in on her pitch once more. Her people needed support, living in exile, transport refugees from one doomed settlement to another slightly less doomed settlement, talk talk talk. Katrana pretended to listen, nodding gravely from time to time. In a way the request wasn’t so different from Magni’s, and she could support it by the same logic that made the dwarven king’s request appealing to Varian and Bolvar. The Quel’Dorei had been members of the Alliance until quite recently, their knowledge of the arcane was great even by Onyxia’s own standards, and they needed help. It would be logical to assist them and extract some even payment while bullying them back into the Alliance.

Of course, Lady Kennedy would not be given enough troops and supplies to safely make her way all the way from Stormwind to a small fortified settlement far to the north in the Plaguelands, take on hundreds of refugees, and then escort them through Scourge and Horde controlled territory to the Quel’Danil lodge in the Hinterlands. They simply “couldn’t be spared.” She might get volunteers, she might even succeed in her absurd mission if she invested her house’s fortune into it and proved herself capable, but she would inevitably take heavy losses. More importantly, she’d take yet more troops far, far from Stormwind with hardly any expectations of immediate return on investment.

That was why Bronzebeard needed to be run off; he was actually a useful ally worth staying on the good side of. Their capital cities were even united by an underground tram of all things, which would need to be sabotaged when it was time to raze Stormwind, of course.

As her mind wandered, Katrana felt a strange emptiness around her neck. She should be wearing more jewelry, she decided. Necklaces were popular among ladies of the court, and drew attention to the bust. Onyxia hadn’t realized that when she had crafted Lady Prestor. It seemed like quite an oversight. She only vaguely noticed that the two women standing with her had the same realization, with Kennedy putting a finger to her throat and tracing around her neck as she made inquiries about Quel’Lithien’s situation. Yes. Something tight would be best. Made of polished copper.

••••••••••

The four of us left the platform feeling pretty good about ourselves. The ritual rod had vanished from my inventory, it’s power spent, but I’d say I spent it well. Of course, according to my amulet Onyxia was not defeated yet. It was still plausible that something could go wrong. Of course, I might be overreacting and the only way this could go badly is if I just sat around for a week and didn’t take advantage. I didn’t want to risk it though.

“Lividia, would you take care of this woman? Get her back to camp so she can sleep off this high. Then do whatever you like for a bit. Talaada, get back to befriending Mosu. I know you can do it.” I probably shouldn’t simply dismiss my prime consort or a woman that I’d just categorically deflowered this quickly, but we all had work to do.

I had Auffrey duck out to the gardens again, and popped in as a properly clean cut and impressive priest of the Holy Light. Very respectable, especially when accompanied by a lady related to the king himself. I swept my eyes through the crowd, and then let the person who knew how the court operated lead me to Lady Prestor. She was chatting with a pair of blonde women, one of which was an elf; the first high elf I’d seen since arriving in Azeroth, actually. I approached and decided to play the part of hopeful suitor.

“Lady Prestor, I just want you to know that you are a beauty beyond compare. It would be my greatest honor if you were to wear this necklace I crafted for you.” Blunt? Yes. But it worked. I had come in swinging, so I didn’t expect all three women’s eyes to immediately lock on to the collar. The elf involuntarily reached for it before stopping herself. Oof. If they start fighting over it this might actually go poorly.

Onyxia sniffed the air; communication talent told me she was identifying my scent as that of a black dragon. Despite their evil nature, black dragons rarely if ever outright betray one another. Mostly due to mental influence from their leader and the Old Gods, I was sure. Once she realized what I was, the broodmother of the black dragonflight was put at ease enough to give into her more important compulsion right there. As she did, the other two shifted their focus from the necklace to me, seeming to forget about it completely once it clicked around Onyxia’s neck.

••••••••••

“You will need to tell me more about how it was made later, lord..?”

“Bismark, Erich Bismark.” Ahh. So that explained that. Her brother had sent one of his agents to take over Lakeshire’s defenses. The little town had been terribly resilient to the Blackrock forces, but really. Nefarian should tell her about such things. Katrana had been trying to figure out how to counter these “Rampant Lions” for the last few days for nothing. She could have thrown a bit of backing behind this Drake; well, better late than never. “You’ll need to tell me more about this necklace. It seems magical in nature.” Obviously it was just a ploy to get close to her without arousing suspicions, but she very much wanted to know more about him. There was something enticing about this drake.

She smirked at the looks the two women were giving him. He was laying on the glamour just a bit thick, but in a way that was impressive as well. She didn’t know anyone but her father that could so quickly fascinate multiple individuals without even looking at them. Had one of her brother’s experiments borne fruit? He may lack subtlety, but the blatant use of power made even her a bit hot and bothered. Yes. She’d definitely need to speak with him in private. “Come to my chambers later, Lord Bismark. I’m sure we have much to discuss.” Let Bismark wonder about whether Katrana’s flirtatious tone was part of the act or not.

She walked away, feeling his gaze linger upon her. It was enjoyable seeing the effect he had on the weak minded mortals. She might just need to take him to bed later, just to blow off some steam.