Covert Coven

The orc paused as he neared the ramshackle hut, his hunched form shuffling forward and a thick cowl covering his features. Adorned in tattered, shabby robes, he wore a number of wands and other magical items at his belt, a grimoire tucked into place in a small square pouch there. The orc’s hidden face turned this way and that, his gaze sweeping across the desolate, shadowed little pocket of Shadowmoon Valley that was Gul’var.

Seeing no one nearby paying him any heed, the orc shuffled forward again, pushing aside the ratty hide that hung over the entrance of the hut and making his way inside, allowing the hide to fall back into place and obscuring the interior of the hut from prying eyes.

Within, two orcs looked up, both of them having seemed to be working on projects laid out on benches before him. The newcomer was not fooled though, and saw the tinge of fel magics on their fingertips as they regarded him. His voice came out gruffly, the rough sound of something imprisoned within a throat that had to be forced out word by bitter word. What he uttered was a word that was not only alien to orcs in general, but completely foreign to the world of Draenor.

“Belore.”

The other two orcs relaxed for a moment, seeming to sigh and nod, both of them releasing the fel magics at their fingertips. Although the newcomer could not see their features beneath the illusions and the hanging cowls, he knew exactly what he’d find. To emphasize the point, he pushed back his hood, spells falling away to reveal the strikingly beautiful features of a female Sin’dorei.

Telatha grinned at the two ‘orcs’, once again appreciating the magic that had concealed her coven members Laerille and Bellemasra for so long. Magic that she herself had used to integrate herself deep within the Shadow Council coven at Gul’var. Magic that forced the spirit of an enslaved felguard to speak through the front of the cowl, echoing her words and making it sound as if she were an old male orc.

“I have seen to the final preparations. This is it. This is the last piece of our plan,” Telatha said quietly. Around them a glimmer of fel magic glowed, the spell containing the bound souls of lesser demons and preventing her words from carrying through the flimsy side of the hut. Although there were many powerful warlocks within Gul’var, most were focused on the latest events unfolding across Draenor and what had happened within Tanaan. Very few were paying mind to the daily routine of the smaller enclave of Gul’var.

“Lady Dayfire, are you sure you want to go through with this?” Laerille’s voice echoed from her cowl, temporarily undisguised. “What we are about to do…it’s one of the most dangerous things we’ve ever done. If we miscalculated, if we fail… The consequences will be dire.”

Within the overly-large, magically enhanced costume Telatha sighed, the breath flowing out of her as her coven member expressed the exact same fears that had been running through her mind over and over. But what choice did they have? There were events going on beyond any of them, and if they could help in their little way, then they had to do what they could.

Things had not been easy for the three coven members since passing through the Dark Portal. Immediately engulfed by battle and witness to the horrific magic empowering the portal’s energies, they’d managed to stay near enough to the Horde forces to evacuate from danger for a time. It was in Frostfire that their concerns first started to grow though, as they discovered traces of Fel magic and members of the Shadow Council that were very similar to what had originally engulfed Azeroth in the first place. In this second, mirror world, the threat to home seemed all the more dangerous as it was at its full power. Who better to face that then a small coven of warlocks who were trained in such magic and, better yet, knew how to avoid corruption? Telatha had seen it as her duty to aid the Horde forces that had risked all by coming to Draenor.

“I know, Laerille, believe me I know,” Telatha said heavily. “We cannot allow these threats to go unchecked though. While we are only three in number here and can do little about the rising of this Fel horde, we can do what is within our reach right here. The plan stays, and if we fall, then let us fall in such a way that no one will forget that we at least tried.”

“We will not fail, Lady Dayfire,” Bellemasra’s voice echoed from within her own cowl. “The coven united!”

Telatha smiled and nodded, replying in unison with Laerille, “The coven united.”

With that she donned her cowl once more, the spells falling back into place. In a gruff, older male orc voice she spoke to her two coven members, “It begins within the hour, let us proceed.”

****************************

Telatha and her small coven had been preparing for this moment for months now. After tracking down leads to the Shadow Council’s activities in Frostfire, they’d discovered portals leading to other areas of Draenor. They’d made a dangerous, covert trip across the continent, dodged various enemies including Alliance patrols, and made their way to Gul’var. It had taken many months of careful planning and work, of struggling and hardship, and they’d been out of contact with the rest of the Horde for most of that time.

Telatha knew that others would worry over her, but she could do little to help that at the moment. The work she was doing was too vital, too important to set aside for the moment to reach out to others for aid. If she faltered now, if their group failed, there would be devastation the likes of which she cared not to think about.

As the three made their way through the twisted, gnarled trees of Gul’var and around the ramshackle huts that the other warlocks made use of, they kept to themselves, looking as if they were moving with purpose. Their disguises had held up for all this time, and the three had readily discovered that if they moved together as a group and looked like they were going about important business, they were generally ignored or left alone.

As they moved, they passed deeper within Gul’var, heading towards a clearing amongst the huts and trees that had been prepared for a ritual. It was an activity that Telatha’s group had been keeping track of for some time now with growing alarm. There, atop the scorched flat stone outcropping, the twisted arms of a large portal had been constructed. The construct was relatively new, and whispers and rumor from the other warlocks within the camp had indicated it was to be used to summon a new wave of forces both from the nether and from Tanaan. They would slam into the Alliance positions further into Shadowmoon, forcing them to pull back and relieving pressure on Tanaan’s own forces. Many would die, Alliance and Horde both, if they were not stopped.

As the three paused, Telatha looked up at the large portal stones in the distance with a lump in her throat. The thought of fel orcs pouring through it was of concern, but worse was what was to come with it. As she watched from beneath her cowl, she saw one of the leaders of the coven moving slowly, carrying in his hands a cursed staff with a glowing green fel crystal on it. Even from this distance the power of the artifact could be felt, and she knew without a shadow of a doubt that the rumors were true; the coven would summon dozens, and then hundreds of infernals and other large demons through the portal using that foci, overrunning this part of Draenor in a matter of weeks. It was up to them to stop it.

Telatha gestured very subtly with her hands, and Laerille and Bellemasra split off from her, each heading towards opposite sides of the cleared space. What they were about to do was surely suicide, but there was no other way to stop the Shadow Council forces at Gul’var. She swallowed a lump in her throat and then steeled herself; this was her purpose, her ultimate reason for being after all. Stopping the use of Fel magic, controlling its flow and power, and preventing corruption were the reasons why she had become a warlock in the first place. It was why she was not a mage as her half-sister was. She was the only one who could stop this.

Resolutely she stepped into the clearing, her actions unusual enough to cause several of the warlocks there to pause and study her. She did not belong there, and her ruse was nearly up. She paused halfway towards the great portal, watching as the leader of the coven, the one with the foci, turned to glare at her, barking in orcish and demanding a reason for her interruption of the great work.

Along the edge of the clearing, Telatha could see the two members of her coven moving swiftly, heading towards a series of magical circles that had been carved into the rough stone. Along the edges of the cleared space many lesser demons had been summon to empower the portal’s energies, their life energy forfeit for the power of the orcs that commanded them. As one would expect, many of these demons were displeased with this arrangement, and had, when approached, considered alternate employment options.

Telatha stood stone still, grinning as her coven members poured several spell components that they’d stolen onto sections of each circle. The magical components, including a mixture of silver and an acid, ate into both the stones and the magics that had bound the demons, the work unnoticed as another question was barked at Telatha.

Once Laerille and Bellemasra were more than halfway done, Telatha pushed back her cowl, her illusion faltering once and for all, her fel green eyes glaring at the orcs as they gasped in surprise. She held up a crumpled parchment before her, the document inscribed with the horrific sigils of the demonic language and bedecked with specs of blood all over it from the numerous pacts she’d made in the past few weeks. Her voice, her real voice, growled out the syllables on the parchment, the words flaring into flames as she spoke them and magic consuming the Pact document in a flash of light.

For a moment, no one moved and nothing happened, the orcs beginning to scramble towards her, several already chanting the words of spells. They were, unfortunately for them, far too late. Released from their weakened circles, enraged at their use as a simple fuel source and now in a Pact with Telatha, the demons along the edges of the clearing roared and charged at the orcs. Instantly bolts of fel magic flew and claws lashed out as the orcish warlocks attempted to quell the tide of demonic fury that rained down upon them. In the center of the maelstrom Telatha stood, her arms raised up high and her body shaking as she struggled to control a Pact with so many lethal creatures. She had only a few moments to direct them before they were free as she well knew, but they would accomplish her objectives while the Pact remained.

In the center of the clearing orc warlocks began to die by the ones and twos, and then in greater numbers. In the middle of the battle the leader of the group, the one with the foci, spat out orders even as he brought the staff up, felfire flaring from it and burning away dozens of demonic attackers. So focused was he on the task that he paid no heed to the now-unveiled Laerille and Bellemasra, both of whom had completed their tasks and who had quickly moved into strategic locations along the perimeter of the circular cleared space. As they came into position, both of them raised their hands, the fel wards on their bodies glowing in unison with those on Telatha’s body, fel magics linking them all together.

Telatha sighed, releasing the Pact and letting the horde of angry demons run free, knowing that they would do some damage to the surrounding countryside but that most of it would be to the orcs of Gul’var and that it was far better than what could have happened. There was just one last task to complete, one last thing although it would be the most dangerous. She spoke words of demonic, even as her sister-coven members did, fel power arcing to each of them and connecting them in a triangle that neatly divided the cleared space, its center around the orc wielding the foci.

“The coven united,” Telatha, Laerille, and Bellemasra all intoned in unison, power surging through them. 

Flames roared down from the heavens, Bellemasra’s empowered hellfire spell burning everything in the center of the circle, her energies enhanced by those of her coven members. Telatha fed magic into her, and the elf seemed to burst into flames herself as the ground erupted in explosions. Orcs and demons died in screaming flames, the fighting abruptly cut off as the demons remaining outside of the triangle of death chose to withdraw, knowing they would find easier victims further within the encampment. Within the circle, the warlocks burned, their spells having been used to fend off the attacking and loosed demons, their wards useless against the combined might of Telatha’s coven.

After several minutes, the three elves sighed, releasing hellish power and letting their magic die down. Each of them walked towards the center of the clearing, studying what remained there for any sign of a threat. They were greeted with the sight of charred ruin, most of the orcs having been burned to blackened skeletons by the time the spell was ended. There was one though who had not been burned, one whose power had been just enough to keep him alive, although he lay as if dead amongst the others. As he lay moaning, Telatha stood over him, reaching down to snatch the cursed staff from his hands, fel energies flaring in it for a moment.

“You should never have tried to bring devastation to our world,” Telatha intoned at him. “We have dealt with your kind well enough once before, and this time will be no different. Learn now the fate of those who believe that their power gives them the right to conquer, enslave, and destroy others.”

As Laerille and Bellemasra moved behind Telatha, she brought the foci staff up, turning its energies on the portal beyond. Instead of empowering it, she focused instead on the stones holding it in place. Fel energies crackled from the staff, burning her wrist with their power and making her cry out as a crackling line of lightning struck the rocks, blasting them apart and setting the portal to detonating. 

Secondary explosions rocked the clearing, sending shockwaves of wind past them and ruffling the tattered robes of their disguises. As the explosions began to grow, Telatha looked down at the dying orc at her feet, her eyes blazing with fel power and the marks on her cheek glowing bright green, “So ends your plans, warlock. We have done our part in this war.”

With that she brought the end of the staff down hard on the stone ground, the crystal of the head shattering into a thousand pieces. Fel energy began to build up and whine around the shattered artifact, and Telatha casually dropped the broken staff on the orc before her. She turned, her friends and coven members following as they walked away, explosions rocking the clearing behind them and sending bright green flames into the sky as they moved. As they passed through the demon-devastated encampment, a lone orc’s voice rose up in a scream right before the most powerful explosion of all rocked the ground enough to almost make them fall.

When the noise had died down, Telatha grinned at her friends, nodding at each of them in approval, “Good work, Ladies. I do believe it’s far past time we returned home. By now they’ve probably sent several search parties and rescue teams out looking for us.”

The other two Sin’dorei grinned and nodded, Laerille ripping open a demonic gateway with a spell before them. They moved with confidence, with the air of those who had done a great deed. Above all else, with the experience of heroes who not only had not needed saving, but had done what needed to be done all the while knowing no one would know or thank them for it.