Cold Wind Blowing

Reynnawulf woke up to the twittering of birds, singing to each other
as the sun shone through the wintry clouds over Dalaran. The sun's rays came through the curtains and Reynnawulf had to blink a few times before stretching. Her back
arched, her arms stretched above her head, the curvature of her slender legs, she was the image of feminine perfection.

She sat up in bed, wrapped her bedsheet around and looked outside her
room window. The sounds of Dalaran arose and reached her ears, the
chatter of people below, the clanging of hammer upon anvil at the
blacksmith, the grinding of stones at the jeweller all greeted her
with sound resolution

Even with the shadow of the Lich King that hung over this cursed land
could not drown the spirits of this world of heroes, Horde and
Alliance alike.


She thought back to the days when she left Eversong forest, starting
down her path of shadow and flame, summoning Piprot for the first time
as she was coming to grips with the Dark Arts and the subsequent
argument over some 'contract' which to this day Piprot and herself
haven't resolved.

Silvermoon. Or the remnants of it anyway, half of it torn asunder when
the Scourge brought ruin and destruction to her people. But her people
were themselves resolute, rebuilding what remained, and it looked more
regal than ever. It had been a proud moment for her stepping into
Silvermoon.

She remembered the first time she met the forsaken, undead
abominations free from the influence of the Lich King and under the
guidance of Sylvanas Windrunner. She met them in Tranquillan, when
they were trying to grind to dust the last bastion of scourge
resistance.

Orgrimmar. As crude as it was, Reynnawulf always felt safe within it's
walls. Thrall was a wise warchief that provided refuge for those who
came to Kalimdor, and she became friends with many an Orc and Tauren,
of which are now members of her guild.

As her powers grew the call of Outlands drew her, called on her
curiosity to find out what happened to her race's beloved Kael'thas
who went through the Dark Portal to find a new source of arcane power
to feed her then starving people.

The masses of the Burning Legion, continually assaulting Horde and
Alliance alike drove Reynnawulf to seek more levels of power to
destroy the very Legion that had created the Scourge and almost
brought ruin to her people and her homeland.

When she found out what had become of Kael'thas she was heart broken.
Being in league with the Burning Legion just didn't sit right no
matter what Kael'thas intentions were. The might of the Horde righted
that wrong and Kael'thas was dispatched with, or so she thought.

She returned home to find that Quel'danas has been rebuilt and a new
Sunwell was created. However the thoughts of peace in her land were
the furthest away from her mind as the Burning Legion and Kael'thas
tried one more time to summon in Kil'Jaedan, Lord of the Legion. An
organisation known as the Shattered Sun were leading the assault to
rid of this menance once and for all.

Eventually they stopped the summoning and Kael'thas was thoroughly
dispatched this time. And peace finally descended upon Silvermoon.

That was until the Lich King stirred and made his appearence known to
Azeroth.

Chaos ruled the land as citizens suddenly turned into zombies
and massive Necropoli appeared at almost every major city. From Thunder Bluff to Stormwind people fled, cities turned to ghost towns and the dead wandered
the street gnawing at the flesh of turning more into a foot soldier of
the Scourge.

Suddenly all the zombies disappeared, rather than just kill every
living thing and so did the Necropoli. One would think that with chaos
running rampant that the Lich King would of smash the hammer against
the anvil and crush all opposition.

But no, he allowed himself to be known, he allowed all citizens of
Azeroth to come to Northrend to face him.

Why?

Why?

Why?

Reynnawulf's thoughts now ran amuck, what started as pleasant thoughts
of the past turned to questions of the present and future. It didn't
make any sense.

A being of such power should be able to destroy everything in his
path, yet somehow given the circumstances and the advantage of surprise
and speed at which the Lich King appeared, any smart general would not
of had a second thought and crush all who opposed.

But Arthas faltered. No, hesitated.

There must of been something else. Fear? No the Lich King feels
nothing. Over confidence? Maybe but that wouldn't explain the sudden
disappearance. He would of kept the Necropoli hanging over the cities
as a constant reminder of what lay in store for anyone who tried to
oppose him.

The only thing that Reynnawulf could think of is that the Lich King
was told or it was pre-determined by some other factor to only keep
the necropoli above the cities and assault the citizens for a limited
amount of time.

But by who? Or by what?

Reynnawulf was confused. Suddenly there was a shuffle of feet outside
and a slip of parchment appeared underneath her door. Reynnawulf
called out but the shuffle and shadow of feet had disappeared.

Reynnawulf picked herself from her bed and still wrapped up in her
bedsheet in one hand, picked up the parchment with the other. Her eyes
widened as she read the message:

"The world is not as it seems. The power of The Lich King is nothing
compared to what I know and guard. Only you see what I can. We must
speak. Meet me at the top of Ice Crown Citadel tonight.

Come alone."

"At the top of Ice Crown Citadel?" Reynnawulf thought to herself "But
that's where The Lich King is..."

Logic told her to stay away, but the lure of more power was too great
for her to ignore. She will meet this being.

Reynnawulf took a long bath and thought about what she was going to
do. After she dressed herself she summoned Piprot who appeared with a
back scrubber and a bath hat, water dripping all over the floor.

"You have no idea when to summon me at appropriate times can you?"

"Well I needed you so I summoned you" Reynnawulf said.

"I think we need to discuss our existing contract then" Piprot replied

"But we haven't even got our initial contract agreed upon yet"
Reynnawulf said "Anyway something is going down" and passed the
parchment to Piprot. He scanned the message, and his eyes widened as
well.

"Ice Crown? As in where the big bad Lich King is?"

"Indeed" Reynnawulf replied "Keen?"

"I suppose so, I mean I got nothing to do and Lady Piprot is making
durotar chilli tonight so that might come in handy if I freeze up"

Reynnawulf jumped with glee "Lets go then. But first we have some
errands to run"

"Not the jewelcrafter again" Piprot said depressively

"Yep gotta eat somehow" Reynnawulf said walking out the door, with
Piprot behind towards the busy streets of Dalaran.

A figure watched as Reynnawulf left the inn and headed toward the Jewelers. His over cloak flapping in the cold, biting wind. Through dark eyes his gaze turned towards the horizon behind the ominous sight of Ice Crown Citadel.

With a deep breath, the dark figure closed his eyes, and vanished.