The Multiverse War, Part One

Interlude: The Preparations

With a thought, the ceiling rose to several feet above even the Warlord's head, and a massive stone chair materialized in front of the stage. Yogg'Saron gestured for the Warlord, who's name was Gan'esh, to sit. He did so, and they got down to business.

                                                             ⇋

During the entire meeting, Erin wore the same pretentious grin, as though she truly believed she was equal to these two god-like beings. In truth, she was in a state of constant fear. She knew that Yogg'Saron could blink, and she would be dead. Or worse. Besides that, she could hardly imagine the kind of things this massive thing could do to her. It pleased her to know that she truly had at least an increment of power over all the Faceless Ones. Ever since the Old One had promised her control over his armies, she had felt a constant aura in her mind, a presence that she could tap into at will. At any time, she could see what the monsters saw, hear what they heard, control them as though they were her dolls in a dollhouse.

An upside, she supposed.

During her thoughts, she noticed Yogg'Saron had been talking about the plan of attack for the next day. He had been giving Gan'esh instructions on how he was to lead the Faceless Ones into battle. The plan was this; Gan'esh was to go into battle with a massive blade, glowing with a menacing red aura that somewhat appeared like dripping blood. On his shoulder would be the Old One. He would march to the town hall and demolish it, keeping none but the mayor alive. The mayor would stand atop the rubble and give his people the command to join, or die. At least, that's what he believed would happen. In truth, he would be impaled by the jagged blade of Gan'eth, who would then proceed to eat the corpse of the mayor. It would instead be Yogg'Saron that delivered the message of death. All those that would join would be transported to this pocket dimension for safety. It would be filled with a banquet of all kinds of foods, infinitely and automatically replenished whenever depleted. All those that resist would be slain. Those to surrender or attempt to flee, but not willingly join, would be imprisoned in another pocket dimension until ready to be used for slave work.

As for the actual raid portion, they would march through the city, first to the Police Department (Erin had to explain a couple times that this what equivalent to the guards' barracks found in Azeroth. She decided not to even bother explaining that much of the police force would already be attacking them), then to the nearest military base. Yogg'Saron easily understood that the military would be the most dangerous threat to his plans, but still believed they would be a minor threat. He predicted, perhaps accurately, that his armies could easily crush every one of the armies on this lifeless rock.

Yogg'Saron would speak for hours on end. He really enjoyed the sound of his own voice. It was especially startling, however, to hear Gan'esh speak when Yogg'Saron finished. He growled, like a bear with laryngitis, but he definitely spoke actual words, "All is understood, my lord. I will obey you to the letter. And you, mistress."

Gan'esh spoke the last with a glance and slight nod to Erin. She nodded gratefully back.

The Old One stood and dusted off the black and red robes that he wore at all times. Dusting them off was wholly unnecessary. To Erin, they seemed perpetually clean. Perhaps a nervous fidget of some sort? A bit of Kaldrun's mannerisms coming out? She had her hopes, despite them likely being unfounded.

Erin stood as well and smiled to her host and Gan'esh, "If you two will excuse me, I have some business to attend to. There is a man that I arranged to meet today and I am running a bit late. Goodbye, sirs."

With that, Erin went to the back of the room and exited the double doors, and suddenly she was dropped exactly where she had envisioned being dropped, in her regular, day-to-day clothes. Today was, fortunately, her first payday in months. This old dude was supposed to meet her and pay her five grand for the weird black book she picked up a week or so back. She noticed that, as well as the change in clothes, her satchel had appeared around her shoulders, book... satcheled away. (Satcheled - Past tense of "Satchel"/"To satchel"-- ah, who am I kidding, it isn't a real word).

Erin sat there in noonday sun. Noonday? Had they been seriously sitting in that damned room for four hours? God. What a life she had set up for herself these past few days. The storm that had been brewing during Erin's imprisonment, she herself had never laid eyes on. It only lasted during the time between Erin becoming imprisoned and Kaldrun handing himself to Yogg'Saron. What she didn't know was that the same magical storm would be brewing with twice the intensity on the day of Hallow's Eve.

Erin stood on that street corner, waiting for the old dude in pennyloafers or whatever weird shit he'd be wearing. She heard a strong, innocent, and sweet old voice speak the simplest little phrase, "Excuse me, miss, are you Erin Matty-ass?"

Erin sighed and smiled politely, turning, "Uh, yeah. Are you, erm, CarlSatan49?"

The old man grinned toothlessly, "Yes, I am. Do, ehm, aha, do you have the, erm, yes, the book?"

Erin dropped the politesse and grabbed the book from the satchel, "Yeah, you got the cash?"

The old man, presumably named Carl, nodded innocently and fished a massive wad of cash from his pocket and held it out with an arthritis-gnarled hand that shook horribly.

In one smooth motion, Erin switched the places of the cash and the book, without breaking eye contact. He held the book at his side and nodded, "Thank you, miss," and suddenly he was gone in the crowd of bustling Seattle people. Erin just sighed and started walking the McDonald's across the street. She glanced across the street to the Space Needle and found a bunch of policeman and cars inspecting it. The entire block was surrounded in caution tape.

She had a vague idea this might have something to do with Kaldrun.