It was a long way up the cliff side. It was cold to the touch accompanied with winds that were slow but freezing. There was nothing happy about Northrend, nothing to even crack a smile at or cheer about; there was only death, despair, and hell to survive against in this desolate wasteland and no one was going to change that. Cham’s distant laughter and chatter caused such a true but depressing fact to come out of the water screaming in anger.
“Woohoo!” Cham hollered against the wind as he looked down below, “we are so high up I think I can feel myself breathing!” Reichel clattered as another gust of cold wind brushed over them and then came out in spirit form.
“Please,” she said pleadingly, moving Cham’s head to face up, “don’t fall again like last time, this is dangerous enough as it is!” Crumples of snow here and there broke away from the cliff and fell. The winds unsettled some of the ice and little bits of it dropped onto Cham. Reichel felt the need to shield her ghostly face from the oncoming debris due to her human nature however, so it was a bit awkward to realize that the ice passed right through her form and that there was no imminent danger to fear.
“BAH!” Cham shouted as he accelerated his pace to climb up the precipice. “No cliff ain’t gonna stop me from getting this package to its owner! And besides, even though I fell last time I still managed to get the delivery done, so there!”
Reichel shouted in return, “Only because I was healing you as you struggled to climb the cliff side! Take it easy!” She began groaning as Cham drew closer to the end of the cliff. Looking down below she wondered how much energy it would take in order to heal him. Closing up a wound from a stalagmite was no easy task and she hoped that he would at least fall on a flat surface and break every bone in his body instead.
Her thought perished as Cham heaved himself up onto the surface, letting out a laugh of victory and enjoying the desolate view of ice and snow. He entered into a triumphant stance by putting his hands onto his sides and cracking a smile as he looked over the land. “Now that’s a view!” he said, chuckling afterwards. Reichel let out a sigh and rubbed her ethereal forehead, wondering how such a person could be happy in this place at all.
The moment of victory was disrupted by a slow applaud from behind the two. Cham turned to spot an old cultist with a blank demeanor on his face, the disheveled and grey beard slowly swaying in the freezing breeze. Before Cham could prep himself for a fight the cultist simply held out a hand. Nothing came out from it however, and it was certain that a spell of some sort would but nothing did. Instead, Cham decided to quirk a brow and calm himself down.
“Good,” the cultist uttered, walking closer to Cham with his hands behind his back, “I was afraid you would be one of those idiots who decided to attack first and ask questions later. I’m happy he didn’t lie to me.”
“Lie? Who?” Cham said with suspicion as he narrowed his eyes. The cultist simply held out a hand and waited, not bothering to answer the question posed. Cham glanced at the hand for a second and then grumbled, flicking the parcel out and dropping it into the man’s hand. He simply smiled and tucked it into his robe.
“Why, your brother of course.” The cultist spoke so simply as if it was nothing. Cham’s eyes drew high as the words came from the old man’s mouth. For a rare moment in her life Reichel saw and felt the shock come over Cham, leaving her speechless. It was not every day he went blank, and this moment alone was enough to color a serious expression over his face.
“What the hell would you know about him?” This was not the Cham from before. Reichel knew that tone, that look on his face; this was the Cham that everyone was afraid of, that everyone never ever wanted to see the light of day for just how dangerous things became if he did. That cultist’s time was running out but judging from the expression on his face he was not in a mood for joking, if there ever was a time when he was. He cleared his throat and straightened his robes out from the breeze that unsettled it.
“I happen to know a lot about him,” he said casually, looking Cham straight in the eyes with that rotten, calm demeanor of his. Cham was ready to ring the old man’s neck but knew well enough doing that would break whatever chance he got to finding his brother. “I also happen to have a message for you. You wouldn’t think that our meeting was by chance, did you?”
The old cultist presented a small, metallic insignia and handed it to Cham. “Remember this sign,” he said as Cham snatched it from his hand. The insignia resembled a demonic face with razor sharp teeth and dark voids which represented eyes. Save for the inner portion of the mouth and the eyes the whole thing was colored in a stark red that looked like blood, but it was uncertain. Cham flipped the insignia over and realized some lettering scrawled on the back, but before he could read it the cultist spoke once more.
“Your brother is certainly surprising. After killing your parents you’d think he’d finish the job.” Another jolt. Cham looked up and stared at the cultist. A sudden mix of emotions coursed through him which impeded him from responding. The cultist simply shrugged and cleared his throat again. “I’m rather perturbed to say that kindness and redemption run in the family, so take these words as you will, I don’t care. Whatever he wants with you must be quite important so don’t waste time.”
Before the cultist turned Cham yelled out. “Wait a minute, who the hell are you? What did you do with my brother?” The cultist glanced over his shoulder, not stopping.
“I am Lezmarion, and I taught your brother everything he knows. You will figure out the rest later, if he wishes to tell you.” With a growl Cham ran towards Lezmarion and lunged at him. He simply vanished into thin air however and Cham ended up sliding through the freezing snow face front. He laid there for what felt like hours, thoughts surging through his mind at what he might uncover. Reichel spirited out from his mace and shook his back with a worried expression.
“Cham? Cham? Please get up!” She kept calling his name until he finally lifted himself up, albeit slowly. There was this strange look on his face that perturbed her, a look that she did not quite recognize. It was the look of anger, the look of as if he had no power to save someone when he thought he could. Reichel’s face sunk deeper into worry as Cham moved to a sit, his face hanging and staring at the white snow below him.
Reichel lifted his face up to get a better look. “Cham? Cham, talk to me, what’s wrong?” He glanced around, almost as if he had no idea where he was. Instead of responding he slowly grabbed his radio and spoke into it.
“All officers report to the headmaster’s office ASAP. Be advised that this is an HPS and to follow situation protocol, over and out.” The radio clamored with all sorts of chatter from the order, some wondering what was going on and others concerned with the headmaster’s well-being. Whatever they thought one thing was for certain: Whenever all officers were called to the headmaster’s office something bad was about to happen.
Without another word Cham stood up and began making his way back to the Argent Vanguard. Instead of flinging himself off the cliff like he usually does with high heights he made his way down like he was afraid for his life. Reichel felt the swirling mixture of emotions going through him and realized that the worried expression painted on her face from before would be there to stay for a long while. Many questions needed to be answered, most of which Cham was posing in his mind. Despite all of these questions Reichel kept hearing one being constantly uttered as Cham made their way down to the base of the cliff.
What the hell did you get yourself into, brother?