//------------------------------//
// Side Chapter 2: Mouar Than Meets the Eye 
// Story: Equestria Was Merely a Setback! 
// by Thunderscourge 
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A/N: Special thanks to those who commented last chapter. Your support is very much appreciated, especially considering the A/N last time. We're back in full swing now, and I will be updating roughly every 1.5 weeks.

Hope you enjoy this second offshoot chapter that shows a bit more about characters other than our main protagonists, and I look forward to your thoughts in the comments below!






“Slay every last living being inside the walls! Do not let them escape!”

Varimathras spoke in the deep voice of a Dreadlord to the amassed army of Sylvanas's Forsaken, the Undead who possessed free will unlike the mindless hordes commanded by Arthas's Scourge. Standing in her place at the moment, he ushered the Undead forth to burst in and wipe out their foes to gain control of the structure before the Alliance could take the weakened stronghold for themselves.

It would be a slaughter, and the thought brought a small smile to Varimathras' face as he thought about his collusion with the Grand Crusader Dathrohan to thin the herd somewhat. Getting the opportunity to both help his brother Balnazzar and also please Sylvanas in the same action? Varimathras could not picture a more pleasant encounter with his enemies that it would grant him favor with two opposed factions.

Turning to his side, where a newly arrived figure stood as their forces ran forth, Varimathras curbed his enthusiasm for the coming bloodshed against the unarmed Scarlet Crusade to more seriously address his aide, “Grand Apothecary, do you have the formula completed?”

Putress, the crouched over Undead with a black cloak covering his body, held up a small flask to show his master, "Yes, we just finished our most recent plague thanks to the aid you have granted us..."

Trusting his loyal minion to have done his job well, and having seen some initial test results, Varimathras resumed the smug expression he had worn upon seeing the first Undead clash up against the fleeing Crusaders, “Good. Lady Sylvanas will appreciate the irony of turning our enemies into our loyal minions…Loyal to he who binds them to their will first, until Undeath becomes Death.”

There were some Crusaders who were too stubborn to admit defeat and accept their fate that were causing a battle by the front gate, by chance stalling for those who were trying to flee be it on foot or by the flying craft they had acquired somehow that those greedy Goblins would use. 

With the Monastery being stocked with a small army worth of Crusaders, the portion of those willing to fight to the death despite being wounded, unarmed, or any other assortment of issues resulting from their recent defeat was still quite sizable. Even ambushing them, there would be untold bloodshed...just as the Dreadlord would have it. It would appear too suspicious if he won too easily, and except for the Apothecary and Putress' ilk none of those who would do battle were even his own troops...they belonged to Sylvanas, not him. What should he care if they were defeated?

One of the Crusaders blindly attacking their invaders was a man followed by a pack of hounds, the man shirtless and pantless as he urged them forward in his underpants.

“Unleash the hounds!”

He had come out of a hidden entrance to the Monastery, something which Varimathras noted, and happened to be close to where Varimathras himself was standing and watching the battle unfold. Irritated by the man's presence, Varimathras swiflty strode to the far smaller being, idly slaying the man's beasts with a rain of fire magic.

The man's dogs dead, Varimathras had no trouble grabbing him by the throat and lifting him into the air. The man struggled up until Varimathras' demonic claws tore into his abdomen and the Human was swiftly tossed to the ground. Blood pouring from his body and mouth, he tried to pull himself back up to his feet.

“I bleed…”

Varimathras did not let him finish whatever he had been intending to say, instead stomping brutally down on the man's back and ending his life. He could enjoy torture at times, but he did not deem such a pathetic soul worth such effort.

“Pathetic.”

Pointing some of his army towards the newly discovered entrance, Varimathras commanded them forward once more.

“Dathrohan should have left by now, so there is no danger here. Carry forward! Use every entrance you find and slay every last Human you find!”





Inside the fortress, one Crusader was waking up from his various injuries suffered at the hands of not only the invaders, but from his commanding officer Mograine. Waking up with a splitting headache, an aching body that was bereft of physical trauma now but still was sore from where injuries had been suffered, and absolutely no idea what was going on, Jerid was confused as to why other Crusaders were retreating from the temple and fleeing across the courtyard for their lives.

Despite not knowing why they were all fleeing, Jerid still wanted to get up and follow them given that if they were all running, he probably should be too since the Crusade was not known for its cowardice. He attempted to rise to his feet to follow them, but halfway up his aching body refused to act as he intended and he crumpled to the floor of the temple. Despite him reaching out towards his allies and calling for them, none stopped or even turned back to face him.

“Hey, wait!”

Fighting through the pain he felt, Jerid slowly rose up again in agony. What was going on? Why was everyone abandoning the Monastery? Why were they abandoning him and the few others in the temple who were unconscious?

Regretful that he did not have his friend there to explain it to him, or to help him, Jerid began to trudge along towards the exit as he eased into the current status of his body, “If only Kacricon were here…”

He wasn't though...that girl had slain him...that unscrupulous thief belonging to the Defias Brotherhood, if her mask meant what he thought it did. Kacricon was dead...Lila was dead...the pain he felt from his former wounds that must have been healed as he lay unconscious did not at all compare to what he felt from losing some of the only people he cared about.

On his way towards the exit of the temple, Jerid noticed that the hood-wearing healer was trying to wake up some unconscious Crusaders to little success. Upon realizing that they would not wake from the damage caused to them through some unknown means after the invaders left, the healer stood and prepared to leave as well.

Seeing an opportunity to learn about the situation, Jerid decided to ask the helpful woman concerning the matter, “What’s going on?”

She shook her concealed head, “The temple was destroyed, but I do not know by whom…” looking around, Jerid could see that many parts had collapsed behind where he had woken up. No wonder he had been in so much pain on top of everything else, he had likely been dug out of a collapsed room along with the others, “I healed your wounds while you were unconscious. Your body was close to death and needed to rest even after I removed the lasting damage.”

Still not knowing why everyone was running, Jerid pressed further in his pursuit for information.

“Why is everyone evacuating?”

“Our army is crippled, and the forces of the Undead are on their way. If we stay too long…”

Jerid went silent as he realized what she meant. They were going to lose the Monastery...they were going to have to lose one of their major fortresses thanks to the meddling of some third party interlopers.

Noticing next that the healer was barely able to stand on her own, likely tired from trying to heal everyone she could, Jerid offered the older woman an arm and shoulder.

“Here, I’ll lend a hand.”

It would slow him down, but he felt indebted to some degree to the person who healed him enough to wake up and actually escape. His first priority was of course himself, but he would bring her along with him if he could.

She accepted his aid and the two began to trudge along to the exit of the temple, then across the now completely abandoned field that would normally be filled with training Crusaders. Upon reaching the end of the courtyard's many steps down to its lower section, Jerid saw the only other person to have remained...but who was unable to retreat.

“Lila…”

He moved to pick up her body, but a serious voice to his side stopped him in his tracks.

“There’s no time…She wouldn’t want you to die too, would she?” the healer warned.

“I know, but…”

Jerid did not want to leave Lila behind for the Undead to desecrate, but he knew that if he stopped to carry her with him he would likely be dooming himself along with her to the enemy.

"Hey, here's some more!"

Jerid looked up to see in the hallway they had been heading towards a large group of Undead soldiers armed to the teeth and all looking ready to put their weapons to use.

Of all the weapons confiscated, Lila's sword had not been one of them, and so as the Undead emerged from the hallway and filed out into the courtyard Jerid drew the blade and grit his teeth. If they were going to escape, they would have to do so by going through these Undead.

"A Paladin and Priest, eh? Kill the man, we'll force the woman to heal our wounds before we slay her too. That corpse over there should be good one on top of these two for Lady Sylvanas!"

The speaker lost their jaw and an arm as an infuriated Jerid cleaved through them at the mention of Lila's corpse, his fury not having been sated given his inability so far to take any form of revenge. This sudden lurch forward and strike was enough of a surprise to the Undead who were used to not receiving any real resistance so far that they had let their guard down. Twisting around, Jerid built up enough momentum that his next swing knocked three more off their rotted feet.

Behind him, the healer watched the Paladin fight not only for his life but in the memory of someone he had cared for. Some of the most dangerous Paladins were those whose desire for retribution would overpower those they fought, but it was unfortunate to her to see someone so young to be so utterly consumed by rage that they could only release it by burying their blade in the flesh of their enemies. The same urge to take vengeance could fuel a Paladin to walk a more righteous path to protect others, something she had believed would be fitting for the young man when she first realized there was more to him than his smug attitude...but now she feared he would live a life of ever consuming anger stemming from a desire to take vengeance for how another had wronged him...something she could sympathize with given her own past.

Unfortunately for Jerid, while his anger was allowing him to carve through the equally powerful Undead and even those who were stronger than him, he was surrounded and the power flowing through him from his rage could only make up so much of a difference: he would be slain by them in short order if he kept battling, but he would die if he did not fight as well so there was no choice in the matter for him. As he bashed away one group of Undead soldiers, another would pepper him with ranged weaponry and wound him to make the next melee attacker's job easier.

He was slowly succumbing to his new injuries and could not keep fighting on, healing not an option given his surrounded status, though fortunately there was an alternative.

The battle that had been raging was ended in a single moment when a bolt of lightning struck down upon an unwary Undead, depriving him of his reanimation and causing his remaining rotted flesh and bones to crumble down now in a pile of their own ashes. Looking first to their fallen comrade and then at the one who cast the spell that had done it, the Undead found themselves pausing in confusion.

How could a healer have summoned such a powerful attack?

Twisting her arms in a graceful yet strong fashion, the hooded healer looked as if she were slamming something down in the air, "Begone."

A good half of the remaining Undead were unable to avoid in time the various bolts that followed the first one, all of them coming directly from a summoned cloud in the air above them that possessed a massive size. Those who could not move in time writhed in agony if they were not slain outright, and those who were able to survive the spell did not do so for long as they continued to be hammered by strike after strike on their prone bodies.

As she channeled her spell, the healer scowled and spoke down to the enemies now fleeing from her attacks that possessed such accuracy that it took all their efforts to just avoid rather than put any effort in on attacking themselves. Their actions disgusted her, not being those of noble warriors but of cutthroat rogues following a selfish fool.

"You all have this second life given to you, and you squander it. You come to a place of unarmed foes and seek to slaughter them for nothing but the blind ambition of your leader and your own enrichment and glory."

To maintain the attack would drain more energy than the woman possessed, and so she relented on her barrage of thunderbolts to conserve what little energy she still possessed. She had been hoping to hold onto some in case of an emergency, but it appeared that now would be that time.

The moment they received a moment of relief, a few of the Undead decided to lash out at their new foe. When the first closed the gap and aimed to strike her, many others piling in behind them, she had already vanished in a flash of light Jerid recognized via color as being similar to the energy coming from that Elvish woman earlier.

When she reappeared not even a second later it was with a dagger drawn from one Undead's sheath and plunged into the throat of a Hunter that had been taking aim at her from afar. Not wasting a moment, she tore it through the side of their neck and plunged it into the one she stole it from, their armor not protecting them from the dagger being slid down the opening for their neck.

As she twisted the knife and made sure the damage was done, she used her other hand to take some rope from the fallen Hunter's hip via telekinesis. Once she had it under her power, she sent it across to tie the legs of another approaching Undead soldier. They fell to the ground and were swiftly dealt with by Jerid, though the others still tried to combat the hidden Mage who had worn the clothes of a Priest.

Due to their differing speeds this charge at her proved fruitless, as while teleporting was not easy or lax on its energy drain it was far easier to do in repetition than lightning bolt after lightning bolt. The result was that one of the Undead would be suddenly picked off by a precision strike allowed by her teleportation, then another as they all tried to react to the last one's second death, and another, and another, all the while Jerid barreled into them and hacked away at their decayed bodies with a renewed fervor. Any attacks that might have connected with the lightly armored Mage were diverted with clever usage of telekinesis and the explosion of bursts of light one might consider fireworks right in the faces of approaching Undead. This all being the case, within a minute the remaining Undead had all been defeated, not even a twitch to be seen from their still corpses.

Pushed beyond her previous exhaustion caused by her healing of the many Scarlet Crusaders in the Monastery, the woman nearly collapsed along with the last body she had cut the throat out of. She had danced around their gushing bodies well enough to avoid nearly any of it tainting her outfit, her movements those of a skilled performer.

As she caught her breath, Jerid was left with silence as he considered what he had just learned of his current companion.

She could have just teleported away and left him to die fighting them...instead she stayed and used all of her power to save him. The selflessness of the healer almost irritated Jerid, who felt both unworthy of it and resentful over requiring it. He had helped her out of basic decency and to repay her for what she had done for all of them, but now to see that she was actually the one helping him reversed his perception of the situation.

"I didn't know you were such a powerful mage...why have you been healing all this time when you could do that?"

Panting from her exertion, the mage removed her mask and hood for once and let her hair fall down from where it had been contained previously.

Jerid winced from his pain just as he recognized the face before him, “You…”

It was identical to the one that had been in his dreams...it was identical to that Elf who had invaded the Monastery. Silver-blue hair, the same features, and the same eyes that now glowed as the magical mask she wore no longer restricted their purple glow. If not for her aged appearance, she would be the same person.

She was barely older it looked though, maybe only about thirty which was nothing in Elven years. Just who was she?





"It took you all long enough."

Aria gaped briefly as she noticed a familiar yellow skinned, orange haired Siren leaning against a tree nearby the Scarlet Monastery. As the sounds of battle raged in the background, Aria and her companions approached their ally with the former showing surprise.

"Adagio, you're already here?"

Adagio scoffed, "Of course I am. I followed a small army of Elves down south a bit and here we are," turning to the Auburn haired man who was in charge of their little group, Adagio smiled in a friendly manner, "Will, darling, please assign me to study a more deserving specimen next time. That half-Elf didn't even bother saying goodbye when he rode to meet the lord you're tracking, and that is no way to treat a lady such as myself."

The man rose a single eyebrow before resuming his normally passive expression, "You will refrain from speaking so informally to me, my insubordinate agent. Now, what did you learn in Silvermoon?"

Reminded that her current boss was the no-nonsense sort, Adagio just cut to the chase and saved the retort she would have thrown out if it were anyone else, "Lor'themar is a subservient fool to Sylvanas Windrunner, but a capable warrior and battle commander. That matters less now that he has lost a third of his army, which marches towards the gate to Outland at the orders of that man who revived our friend."

"And the commanders?"

"Reuenthal and Mitter'meyer are capable beyond their existing station, yet restrained by the social politics of their kind. Together they are nigh-undefeatable from what I have seen, even having survived an encounter with a beast named Kargath who carved up the city. Of the two, I'd keep an eye more on Reuenthal, since he's marginally better at commanding than his already talented friend, but also because there are demons in that mind of his."

Jaina spoke up next, worry in her voice as she inquired about the person she was seeking after, "What of Kael'thas?"

"Everyone seems to think that he is sleeping with that idiot woman he is traveling with. There's even a betting pool going on I hear..."

Their leader narrowed his eyes at Adagio, "Pertinent details only."

It was at this reprimand that Adagio actually noticed that there was a new member to their group with them. She looked over Jaina and scoffed at the woman's purple and blue attire that left little to the imagination, "Wait, Huffer, who is this tart? I mean, come on, I am not all that reserved but does the world need to see your stomach at every living moment?"

The death glare she received this time actually set Adagio straight, the woman cowering as she realized that the man did not enjoy being called by such a nickname, "Jaina Proudmoore, and she is here to aid us in these matters concerning Lord Sunstrider given her familiarity with him. Now, answer the question presented."

"He seems far more reserved and kind than the accounts of the man in Outland. However, it is only just recently that he has taken the mantle of a 'ruler' and is commanding forces of his own. He treats his own life as expendable and is currently diverting attention away from his forces by being elsewhere, since there appear to be those who wish him dead, presumably from the Outland Kael's forces among others."

"Very good. I expect your full report later, but for now we must continue on," he began to walk towards where he could hear a conflict raging, his first assumption being that it was Kael'thas and some of his forces fighting Crusaders or something along those lines. Before he could get far Adagio stopped him and gave forewarning about the situation.

"I wouldn't if I were you. The Monastery is being assaulted by the Undead belonging to Sylvanas. She has gone east to route off survivors, and her pet demon is leading the charge here to wipe the silly Crusaders off the map."

Jaina gawked at the revelation, drawing her magic staff and moving forward to join the conflict, "We can't just let them slaughter them!"

This time it was their leader who stopped them, using one arm to block Jaina's path as he spoke in a calm, detached voice, "We can and shall. The Undead are allied with the Horde, which in turn has the Blood Elves under their protection. Should we, representatives of Kael'thas Sunstrider and his paramour Princess Lulamoon, intervene in opposition of them we stand to cause civil war that will cost the lives of more than a few hundred Crusaders. A war that can weaken the fragile standing of two races that survive on a continent filled to the brim with those who seek to ravage and destroy them."

Seeing his point, and having little to no love for the Crusade, Jaina struggled to decide what to do. She wanted to help, but at the same time doing so would result in many other conflicts down the road since these were her enemies doing battle right then and there...it was not truly her place to intervene, but not doing so felt against her own code. Only the rationale that helping would actually harm more than helping them kept Jaina from rushing in anyways, and she did this with a heavy heart even still.

Behind them Adagio and Aria were catching up, with the former smiling at her partner after giving her a brief embrace, "So Aria, how was it?"

"Bad enough that I miss that idiot Sonata. I don't get why she gets to stay in Equestria or wherever while we have to go on a mission that can take forever."

Adagio shot Aria a serious glance after making sure their boss was not seemingly paying attention to Aria's grumbling, "Remember, you only are alive thanks to Luna. Don't complain about a little errand."

Aria jabbed Adagio, causing the other woman to gasp slightly as she was pushed back, "And I was only going to die because of you. I can complain all I want, especially when I have to find the bitch who screwed us over in the first place. I've had to fight and travel all over the place while I've been with this guy, while you get to eat fancy dinners and enjoy yourself."

Her complaints earned a small chuckle from Adagio, "I'm sorry that I am a tad bit better at information gathering than you, Aria," she leant in close and whispered in Aria's ear, "Don't you worry though, I can make up for time lost when we get to the next inn."

Blushing, Aria looked away from her partner and crossed her arms, "Loki-lite better not have touched you."

"Oh my, you really are jealous, but now that you mention it he is a little Loki-like. Parent problems, emotional instability, a brother-figure who isn't actually related to him but who he is very close to..." Adagio laughed as she realized how right Aria was that the two men were like another black haired, blonde haired duo, "Hel, Mitter'meyer even has a hammer and is blonde as Sonata is dumb! I think their nicknames even have some similarity with all that Asgardian Norse stuff too..."

A snap of their bosses fingers caught their attention, "Enough chatting. I will not have us always one step behind them. We will travel using horses the dead Crusaders have no need for, and we will attempt to find Princess Lulamoon before Sylvanas or some other entity does."

As the others all moved to do as their leader planned, Jaina lingered with indecision. Seeing Undead raid a place of weakness reminded her of the last time she had truly seen her lover Arthas...before he was the one to slay a city that was being infested by the Scourge. It was then that he shifted from the prideful but well meaning Prince she had known to the gradually darker and darker villain he would become, beginning by slaying innocents to save the lives of others, and ending with him being the one to lead the Scourge himself.

"Yet another Culling of Stratholme..."

"Now, Lady Proudmoore. You will be left behind if you do not keep pace."

Turning her back, Jaina only hoped that the Crusaders dying today were those who deserved it for their crimes.





Getting over some of his surprise, Jerid began to explain why he had been shocked at first to see that the healer who had been working with the Crusade for at least as long as he had been there looked just like someone else who attacked them.

“You…”

The hooded woman laughed as she motioned for Jerid to help her continue walking. Now she was truly too weak to do so on her own, and she still intended to escape before doing so would be impossible, “That Elf looked just like me, did she not?”

Jerid nodded as he helped her once again, the two making their way into the hallway the Undead had come from. As they walked she spoke more, though she was doing so at her own pace and seemingly for her own sake rather than for his. Like she had been waiting to get this off her chest, and for once felt comfortable revealing her true self.

“I spent one life as selfishly as one could…” she coughed from the exertion she had put her body through, “When I came here to this Monastery, I hoped to make up for my past by helping others.”

She smirked. That had been many years ago, though time was a funny thing she supposed. She once had little of it left, and now felt that same lingering feeling of demise hanging above her head.

“I never intended to join the Crusade, but they took hold of this place and pressed me into their services. I suppose this is just another piece of the penance I shall pay…one more piece to the pain I feel...”

Jerid scowled at the mention of pain, the blade he carried not allowing for his rage to truly disappear from him. He held the only piece of Lila he could, and he had been unable to take revenge for her...that girl had escaped, and he doubted he would get another chance. Yet, despite this, he felt that he would never be able to move on if he did not manage to honor the memories of those he had lost. That they would haunt him eternally if he did not at least try.

“First Kacricon, now Lila…those brigands have taken everything.”

“You must hate that girl…” the healer sighed, understanding his emotions entirely while also pitying them, “Be careful. Living one’s life with hatred may allow one to exact reprisal, but it will only hollow you and lead to one’s own ruin.”

Not liking how she was speaking down to him, Jerid scoffed at her attempt at giving him advice, "What would you know?"

The Mage smirked and almost laughed if not for her condition, “I murdered a man once. Am I a sinner worthy of death for depriving his family of him?” she coughed again, "I would hope not, not after what he did to me years before. Not after all the pain and suffering I went through...but I still killed someone. Do I deserve to face eternal hatred and eventual death at the hands of those I have wronged?"

Hearing that the kind healer who had been supportive of her fellow Crusaders not only once was a murderer, but also never intended to be a Crusader to begin with. Not knowing what to say, Jerid let her continue speaking, though instead of being halfway smug to make a point this time she spoke with far less confidence and more of the pain she had spoken of.

“I was so angry with him that I abused his…our daughter. A girl who might be twenty now if I had not ruined her life with my own vitriol and wrath.”

"Might be?"

"It is a long story..." as they reached the outside of the Monastery, where the main conflict was taking place, she coughed again, "Just know that I understand. I understand pain...I understand the anger you feel, even if it was not the same. Don't let it consume you...find something else to live for..."

Fortunately for them they had not run into further Undead on their way since they had spread out throughout the fortress, and they had taken care of the large portion who had been sent their way. Now in the clearing, they could see the airship provided by some unknown means as well as the Undead army fighting through the fanatics to get to it.

There was a crowd larger than what the ship could carry crowding around it, everyone fighting to get onboard the almost full ship so that they could be some of the ones to survive the encounter.

In her condition, there was no way the healer could fight through the crowd, and running on foot from the Undead would be a death sentence. With a nod, she let go of Jerid and motioned for him to go forward.

“Go.”

Having come to the same conclusion as her, Jerid apologized before moving towards the crowd, “I’m sorry. From here it’s every man for himself.”

It was difficult for the blonde Crusader who in many ways looked as if he were a lankier Lavitz to push his way into the crowd: not because he had a moral objection to shoving his comrades out of the way to save himself just as they were trying to do to everyone else, but because  there were just so many bodies. The Monastery had housed hundreds, thousands of Crusaders in its time, and now those still alive were either fighting to the death against their hated foe or fleeing like this. Not about to throw his life away for nothing, Jerid sought to be one of those who survived the encounter to fight another day.

Pushing his way past the first few, Jerid began to speak to himself in a desperate manner, “If you’re weak you won’t survive,” pushing further into the crowd he continued, “If you’re weak you won’t survive!”

His goal was to get to the ladder of the Zeppelin and pull his way out of this hellhole, for the Undead were beginning to break through the line of the fanatics and slaw at those seeking to escape. Pushing himself further through his weaker allies, Jerid forcibly took hold of the ladder and began to climb it. When someone took hold of his leg to try and pull up using him, Jerid kicked the person threatening to drag him down with them and continued to try and climb up as those above him climbed onto the safety of the ship. It was beginning to take off, its pilot not willing to risk the approaching encounter with the Undead, and as it did so the rope ladder began to break under the repeated stress of having hundreds of people tearing at it and so many on it simultaneously.

Jerid almost reached the top when it snapped, his body falling along with it instantly to what would be a horrible death by the now army of Undead who had cut through those below him...if not for someone's hand catching his own and holding on tightly enough to slowly pull him in with them. Looking up at his aqua haired savior, Jerid used his remaining strength to pull himself on board the craft, at which point he collapsed not only from how much his body had suffered in the past day or so, but from the emotional exhaustion of losing two people he had loved...and now a third person he had come to respect, even if begrudgingly.

By the front entrance of the Monastery, the Mage who had worn the mantle of a Priest sighed as she watched the last of the Crusaders on the ground fall, and the Zeppelin leave once and for all.

Holding a hand to her heart, she quietly waited for her fate, knowing it was inevitable at this point and also not possessing the will to avert it, "If only I wasn't such a coward...maybe then..."