Tides of Darkness Preview - Chapter 6

There is a brief look out the corner of Sylvanas’s eye as she sits down, a silent question as to what exactly happened out there, and Jaina simply shook her head, a silent rebuttal that made Sylvanas frown minutely, before her expression smoothed over into implacable calm.

Nonetheless, she nods and lets it be for now, allowing Jaina to breathe a quite sigh of relief.

It seems she was among the last to enter, with only one other just settling into their chair among the Pact.

Nok’thal Iceheart is a veteran of Saurfang’s age and died during the second Scourge invasion, falling in the defence of fleeing civilians only to be taken and twisted by the Lich King. Out of his saronite armour, his unusual lankiness is striking, almost skeletal, but his capabilities in battle had earned him the title of Deathlord, so only a fool would judge him weak.

The second day began in earnest at Khadgar’s urging, starting with joint operations and resource allocation. Formal trade negotiations took more time than they had to work with, so until those were in place they operated on expedited requests and one-to-one trades, ensuring research efforts were supplied and food found those who needed it most.

Of particular concern is the Wound.

“As you know,” said the Farseer, standing to address the room. “The Pact works tirelessly to mend the wounds in Azeroth’s crust, but with each mending we encounter more and more resistance by Naga and Faceless. They are stealing and mining Azerite at increased rates, for what purpose we had to investigate.”

He gestured respectfully to the Deathlord and sat down.

With a polite nod to his comrade, Nokthal stood and surveyed the room, his glowing eyes trailing whorls of icy light. “Per that investigation, I believe the Naga are building a key to N’Zoth’s prison, using the Titanic nature of Azeroth’s blood to trick the Titanic lock. Such a key would need charging, which will almost certainly be done with leylines.”

He looked at the First Arcanist. “We have spoken with Suramar about our findings, and if it is possible to track such drainage.”

“And just how did you come to this conclusion, Death Knight?” Turalyon asked sternly, eyes flashing with the Light.

Nok’thal met his stare without concern. “The Ebon Blade worked with Lady Alleria’s Nightblades on a number of missions to ascertain where the stolen azerite was going and to what end, the information we uncovered was cross-referenced by the custodians of Ulduar. We have seen precious little weaponry and armour among the Naga or Faceless utilise azerite, but intelligence gathered indicates its being sent to a location deep beneath Azshara’s palace, exactly where the lock to N’Zoth’s prison can be found.”

“The custodians were very forthcoming,” said Conjuror Blackstrike. “I personally made contact with them and Magni to find the prison’s location and support our theory.”

Turalyon raised a sceptical brow at the orcish woman.

“The work of Iceheart’s Knights,” began the Battlelord, rising from her seat with her hands on the table, “has made our strategies against N’Zoth’s followers possible. I trust his findings explicitly.”

She paused and narrowed her twilight eyes at Turalyon, ragged ears flattening against her skull. “Lady Alleria’s kalzoram were indispensable in those missions, it is by her hand that we uncovered as much as we did, if the words of my comrades do not sway you.”

An uncomfortable tic pulls at Turalyon’s face and he smiles stiffly. “As you say, Battlelord.”