บท 216: Resource Allocation
6/2 Late Afternoon
Sylvanas looked at the leaders of the Horde with a smile. She felt more genuine affection for her allies of convenience in this moment than she ever had before. Thrall would serve the master well; he was an acceptably clever tactician, if a bit aggressive. His shamanic magic was also quite potent. His top general, Varok Saurfang, would benefit greatly from the rejuvenation afforded by the amulets. Even the troll would likely be of great use, though Sylvanas doubted she'd ever really be able to really like a troll. It was a shame Cairne Bloodhoof wasn't available; he was positively ancient. She would need to gift him an amulet later, along with all of the other elders.
"Thrall. I need to leave. I'm leaving one of my agents here to accompany you; if you have need of me you can contact me through her."
"Of course, Sylvanas. We honestly weren't expecting you here to start with. Will you be back by the time of the battle?"
"I can't be certain. I will try."
Gretchen Dedmar had returned to her side for training once the Master had granted all in his service the gift of martial talent. She was far more suited to warfare now than she once was, and her devotion to both Sylvanas and Lord Bismark allowed her to push herself to grow strong quickly. She would be the equal of any Deathguard by tomorrow, and would earn the title of dark ranger by the end of the week. She would have progressed even faster if there had been the luxury of time to focus on her development.
"Support our allies and listen closely to their discussions. I will want a full report when I return."
"Yes, my Lady."
••••••••••
Sylvanas teleported to the Sepulcher in northern Silverpine, where her Forsaken were hoisting new flags. Well, new to the Forsaken; they were the old heraldry of Lorderon, raised from the dead just like it's people. She turned a tall, thin man with artfully spiked hair. "Report."
High Executor Hadrec bowed deeply. "Dark Lady. As you commanded, we have been attempting to integrate the reinforcements you sent to us, but there has been tension."
"From the Crusaders?" The Scarlet priests she had sent here to act as ambassadors were all captured, but that didn't necessarily mean they would be well behaved on its own.
"No, Dark Lady. From the Defilers. The Bride does not believe they are sincere, and refuses to cooperate with them. It hasn't yet come to blows, but I believe it will."
Sylvanas internally groaned. The Black Bride was a woman that had earned Sylvanas's respect. She was an intelligent and ruthless strategist, as well as one of the finest warriors and generals the Banshee Queen had at her disposal. Sylvanas did not know her original name, as she insisted it was irrelevant; she had been an unlucky young woman from Andorhol who had died along with virtually everyone she had ever known on the day of her wedding. She had then managed a rare feat: to reject the Lich King before he was weakened, years before Sylvanas herself had managed to wriggle free. Maybe one in ten thousand could boast as much, and most of those were caught and killed.
https://imgur.com/a/PLYsTkx
At first she had attempted to continue her life, then to assist the surviving humans, and then to quietly seek vengeance against the Scourge. In all cases, the humans had seen her not as a victim or an ally, but a threat. She had been forced out of any community she tried to join, and honed her craft as a former soldier to kill the enemy, breaking a skeletal horse through sheer force of will. She had a justifiable chip on her shoulder over the living, but she was going to need to get over it.
A shame she was so strong willed. A necklace would take a long time to bind her and banshee possession would certainly fail. That was, unless the Master allowed the use of one of his treasures to subdue her more quickly. If not, she and her troops would need to be kept separate. She was here to clear out the worgen, not cause problems with the living.
"And the ambassadors? Have their offers been accepted?" At Lord Bismark's command, the Forsaken were attempting to rebrand and reunite with the living of Lorderon; it seemed unlikely to work well with anyone that hasn't been captured, but that was what her banshee were for.
"Surprisingly well. Amber Mill and Pyrewood have both agreed to host the living priests. If you really do wish to recruit the living, it might be possible with those two towns, at least. Given time and the intervention of the Forgotten Shadow when we encounter resistance."
"What of the wall? They are desperate; they should be receptive, no?"
"One would think. But no, the refugees at the Graymane Wall have refused our offers of aid."
"Foolish of them. They were given a choice and that offer will only remain for so long. On a related note, have you found me some targets?"
"Yes, Dark Lady. We have identified a pack of Gnolls. We believe that they will be easily subverted by you and your chorus."
"Thank you Hadrek. I will go and collect them shortly. And our resources?"
"On schedule, though some of the mines have unfortunate spider infestations."
"Remember; the corpses are to be sent to Madame Eva. She can make far better use of them than anyone outside of the Royal Apothecaries."
"As the Dark Lady Wills it."
"Ah. And one last thing. Take this list. Register them all as a military unit under your command. I don't know if you will actually ever meet them, but it's important to see what putting their names down does on its own." She handed Hadrek a list of undead members of the retinue. Just twenty, though all ones that had their own equipment. If putting down their names on a list was all that was needed to count them as agents, that would be very helpful indeed.
••••••••••
Katarina Eva pierced the venom sac with the scorpid's stinger. As she did, the venom was drawn out through the stinger to dribble out the other end. She washed her hands and wrote down the results. She had been given a patently ridiculous number of scorpid corpses, ones already stripped of much of their carapace and any usable meat, and asked if she could do anything with them. Of course she could.
This combination had seemed promising to her Sight, and if she was right these stingers would extract the poison from someone's body at the cost of blood loss, reversing their initial purpose of injecting poison into the bloodstream. The ritual to enchant them was also very simple, if precise. These ones would actually be usable in their own right.
Madame Eva wrote down the process and handed Alyssa, her granddaughter, the procedure. "Distribute this one, girl. It's relatively dangerous, so only those within the retinue should be handling the venom sacks." The charms would counteract most bloodborne poisons; a potential lifesaver. Each would only sell for… perhaps a silver, maybe less because of the unpleasant blood loss involved. However, was a piece of silver worth a few minutes of unskilled labor that even a child could do, using materials that would otherwise simply rot? Certainly.
Her workers were the young and the cowardly. Those who did not wish to risk their lives and who lacked more useful skills, but were willing to fight for the Alliance indirectly. She was happy that this combination seemed legitimately useful. Creating disenchantment fodder with effects too esoteric to be marketable was all well and good, but seeing her work being used always made her happier than seeing a few motes of magical dust extracted from it before it was discarded.
She went over her ledger. The claws could be used to make a charm that strengthened the fist against force, making it difficult to injure one's hands with a punch or during construction. Unfortunately they were cumbersome to carry around. Two silver per scorpid. The eyes would allow one to see veins and other concentrations of blood through flesh. Perhaps useful to those performing first aid, but always active so long as they were on the person and a little bit unpleasant psychologically. Another two or three silver, four if it turned out to have some manner of combat application. The assorted other parts of the body, mostly the blood and organs, would only generate a single silver piece worth of dust and essence if she teased it out, but she was told that could be used to make wands, oils, and simple protective enchantments worth far more. Good enough.
All told, around seven additional silver pieces worth of added value. If what she was told was correct, the meat could be prepared safely and was worth around three silver each. The chitin was worth around eleven per scorpid if it went to a skilled leatherworker, of which the retinue had five. Eva looked over the mangled body and her vision didn't draw her attention to anything else. This beast had given all it could, and it was unlikely that even the necromancers would have any use for it now. It would be composted and used as fertilizer, perhaps. Or tossed in a mass grave. Along with many thousands of its cousins.
Eva turned to the giant worm she had been presented with, analyzing it with her Sight. She would consider a course of action and get a feeling as to whether it would end well or poorly. Like with most creatures the eyes were a focus of energy, and the worm's skin seemed promising, but it didn't seem likely this would be as profitable.
••••••••••
Vaelastrasz was a bit miffed to have the meeting pawned off onto some whelp. Emeriss seemed like a good lad, but this was no way to treat a champion of the red dragonflight! Ysondre knew better than to snub an equal; he wasn't going to retaliate, but it simply wasn't done.
"So, where is your mistress? I imagine something big must be going on for her to miss a meeting like this."
The red fragment, kept in a small protective box, vanished from the whelp's hands before he looked up and nodded. "Oh yes. She and Erius are aiding in the defense of Shadowforge City."
"Oh." Vaelastrasz resisted the urge to simply ask why; he still asked, but he wasn't rude about it. "I didn't realize that the green dragonflight would have an interest in the Dark Iron Clan."
The bland night elf shrugged his shoulders. "I don't think our queen really does, outside of humoring Erius. He's got this big elaborate scheme to act as a bridge between the Horde, Alliance, and anyone else who has the slightest bit of sense."
"I'll need to meet with him at some point." Must be a young hothead with big dreams like that. Vaelastrasz thought someone like Ysondre would be too smart to get caught up in madcap schemes. Mortals were dreadfully erratic. You might be able to find a few good eggs to partner with for a while, but on the whole they would die quickly or change their minds and you'd have to start over within a century or two at most.
Hopefully Erius would do some good before letting himself get jaded. That, or he might manage to keep hope alive for a long while. Vaelastrasz's sire, Korialstrasz, managed to live among humans full time, even holding a political office for several mortal generations, and he still managed to like the little buggers and put faith in them. "Good luck kid; between the Quiraji and the mortals you're taking a lot onto your shoulders. I'd help you if I could."
"Oh. Also. I was told to give you a message. Whatever you do, do not try to confront Nefarian alone. You will lose every time." The whelp took off the necklace he was wearing. "Also, I was told to give you this. We can use it to contact you."
Vaelastrasz took the warning in stride, smiling warmly. He'd heard it a thousand times before. "Keri told you to say that, I bet. Alright. Be careful with this though, I spend a lot of time undercover. Don't give me away." The red champion tucked the amulet into his pocket. "If these are standard issue for your agents, you should know that Nefarian forbade neckwear. I thought he had gone mad, but it makes a lot more sense now."
"You're supposed to put it-" the red dragon finished teleporting away. "On…"
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