“All that lives, grows. All that grows, blooms.” I intoned carefully, my hands seeming to sink into the spreading moss as it flourished under my guidance. Tendrils of growth reached reluctantly towards the befouled soil at the heart of this small plot of dirt and out to the limbs of the three bushes planted around its edges, where they flowered and fruited under the influence of my magic. The sweet smell of raspberries was even beginning to fill the air – but it wasn't fruit that I was after, not today. "All that blooms, dwindles. All that dwindles, dies."
My fingers felt like they were mired in muck as I let the wave pass over them, feeling the way the magic within sapped the warmth from my blood, the suppleness from my skin, and the strength from my bones. Despite expecting it all, I still found myself holding my breath in a vain attempt to block out the mostly unreal scent of necromancy as it blotted out all else.
Trix copied me in wrinkling her nose from beneath her hood despite not having the same senses that I did, then, as she noticed my attention, ducked her head and tightened her grip on Tricks.
She attempted to hide her discomfort by leaning closer, as if to pay more attention to the lesson I was teaching, but she wasn't terribly subtle about her feelings. Even with my far too lacking ability to read people, she was practically radiating guilt.
The same as she had been since I got back from my little escape last night. I'd found her hiding in her room, and even after I forced my way in I'd found her bundled up under numerous layers, unwilling to meet my eyes, and curling in on herself defensively – which I hated. She was my student, it was my job to protect her, not the other way around, and she held no responsibility for what Varian had done.
If anything I was the one at fault for running away and leaving her behind without thinking of how she was feeling after being involved in that mess.
Seeing the Dead Scar's corruption begin to suffuse the bushes, I refocused my attention on the ritual. "All that dies, fades. It rots, it decays, and withers away." Interposing myself between the necromantic magic was a discomforting experience, and one that would need a great deal of refinement before this was usable at any degree of scale, but it worked. Raspberries fell from the vines and rotted away until only seeds remained, leaves curled up and fell to the ground, and tendrils became stiff and brittle before snapping under their own weight.
Had I left the magic of the Dead Scar to play out under the conditions I had provided it with, the plant would have twisted into a macabre mocker of good health. Leaves blackened and rotted, finding the light of the sun anathema to them, the berries putrefying and swelling on the vine ready to burst at the slightest disturbance, as I'd learned to my detriment.
Flesh-eating acid wasn't exactly deadly to someone who could regrow limbs with some effort, but it was still unpleasant to get on your skin.
Here and now, rather than allowing it to become corrupted, I had ushered the plant to its death, but in an entirely natural manner. "And from that Death, from rot and decay, Life springs anew." I spoke forcefully, pitting my magic against that of the Dead Scar and forcing a reversal as the fallen seeds germinated and took root into the tainted soil. "Live, grow, bloom, wither, die, decay, and live again. The cycle neither begins nor ends; all that lives, dies, and lives again."
New flowers bloomed as the necromantic energies were stripped away, the taint in the soil fading to nothing as new berries swelled to ripeness. The thrum and beat of Life, along with the sweet scent of fructose, filled the air in place of the stench and chill of Death.
I pulled my hands out of the moss and smiled at Trix – or at least tried to, as she was still hiding her eyes from me. "When it comes down to it, death isn't something unnatural, it's part of nature. We're not separate from that, we cultivate plants to eat them, raise livestock," I pointed a finger at Tricks, "or hunt, for meat. Death is around us all the time and... normal."
Trix reached out to prod the newly grown raspberry bush sceptically, even cutting one of the berries off its vine and crushing it with her knife and frowning at it. "So you're... you're using death magic against itself."
"Not quite. I'm still using Life magic against necromancy," emphasising the distinction felt important considering the Thornspeakers, "and rather than using Death magic itself, it's more that I'm turning it against itself. The hardest part of making this work has been finding a way to make it cause a proper death, rather than a false one."
"The difficulty only makes it more impressive!" The excited voice of Archmage Kinder piped up behind me. "It is rare enough to see aspect transmutation, let alone an endothaumic reaction to draw imbued mana through a symbolic transmutative array! I would have made use of the cleansing properties of silver when it comes to establishing the formation, and the conductivity of noble metals compared to igneous rock goes without saying of course!" She clapped her hands and blinked, disappearing from her spot beside Vivi, Frazzle, and Darius at the door, to reappear right next to me. "But then, that would damage–"
Vivi was back! Too impatient to get up, I twisted in place and shifted into a fox before springing through the air at my girlfriend, her eyes going wide with surprise and a laugh bursting forth as she moved to catch me – only to end up holding up my human form as I turned back at the last moment. "Vivi!" I cried, pressing my head into the crook of her neck.
"–the 'natural' element going into its construction?" Archmage Kinder finished with an amused huff. "No one has any appreciation for a proper lecture on the properties of magic these days!"
"I'm back." Vivi said with far less cheer, swinging me about slightly before setting me down and running a hand through my hair. "I'm sorry I left, I should've gone with you. Should've known they would try something stupid."
Her grip tightened protectively, but I shook my head. "It's not your fault. I could've gotten Magroth, or Frazzle, or anyone else to come with me as an escort. I didn't. And–" I caught the words on the tip of my tongue, biting them off before I could say that her presence wouldn't have changed much.
It would've. Even if she couldn't help me fight my way out, she could stop me from being a trusting idiot and wandering off with Varian and right into the ambush they had prepared for me.
Just staying around Trix and Anduin would've neutered the entire plot on its own. I could've been giving kids foxy rides rather than dealing with that shit.
"Made me miss my chance to punch Calia's face in for everything she's done. It's her fault we had a civil war!" Vivi hissed, her eyes blazing with fury. "And now she turns on you after we rescued her and her daughter from Southshore? Fed and armed her people? She can bugger off!"
"It might not be best to insult royalty in front of guests?" Frazzle suggested with a raised hand. "Speaking as one of those guests, I agree with you, but it still doesn't seem like a good idea."
"Never mind that!" Archmage Kinder waved it off. "Fralatina, your botany classes alongside Gwyneth – tell me what you make of this here. Am I correct in thinking she used grave moss as a magical conductor?"
Harrumphing loudly, Vivi dropped her chin on top of my head. "She deserves worse!" She muttered, still angrily. "And he does too! I don't care what Darius got out of them, it wasn't enough, and I'm not about to pretend otherwise!"
As happy as I was standing there, listening to her heartbeat, feeling her hand run through my hair, and with her holding me tightly, I wasn't terribly interested in rehashing everything to do with bloody Calia or Varian again. "Vivi? Why don't you tell me what happened on your adventure; did you manage to finish it?"
"What happened to you–"
I rose to my tiptoes and kissed her, stoking her cheek gently and teasing her lips with my tongue before pulling back. "Please? I may not have gone with you, but I do care about how it went and whether you enjoyed it. At least one of us should've had a good last few days."
Her emotions flickered for a moment, her anger warring with her excitement over having a real adventure and a small flaring of desire in her eyes that still made me feel fuzzy to be the target of.
Eventually, she huffed and took my arm, tugging me towards the settee. "It wasn't just me – though I did take the beast's head in the end! – with Mountaineers Burdock and Gordrin being the ones who knew where to go, and where to get out mounts. It took a day and a half of riding to reach Amberstill Ranch, and sometimes the road seemed more like a cliff than the mountains around us–"
While she sat I shook my head with a gesture at the mess still sitting in the parlour, and set to work cleaning it up – much to Archmage Kindersnap's protest – while listening to the story.
Vivi wasn't an amazing storyteller, but I still found myself enthralled by her blow-by-blow account of her battle with Vaggosh and his pack, the traps the mountaineers and herders had laid to even the odds, and her final – demonstrated with a flourish – blow that had taken the scourge of Amberstill Ranch's head.
In the end, she finished with Frazzle and Archmage Kinder finding her on her way back and telling her what happened, which went a long way to explain their presence alongside her, and how they teleported her back to Ironforge.
At least for my side of the story there was no more cleaning to do, so I got to do it from the safety of Vivi's arms.
-oOoOo-
"Hmm. 'Into the Slumbering Place descended the Keeper of Ancient Record and the Watcher Iron, seeking–" the next word is either solace or sanctuary, but it's hard to tell with how badly chipped it is." I read out to Vivi as we looked at one of the displays of Titan artefacts in the Hall of Explorers. The writing was, fundamentally, the root of the runes and Drust script, but if I didn't know about Archaedas and Ironaya's journey to Uldaman already I wouldn't be able to understand half of what I did. "'Amongst the Earth Shaped–', no that's Earth Shapers, isn't it? It should mean dwarves, but..."
Scrunching my nose up I glared at the trio of runes. It was definitely referring to people rather than objects, but there was still a distinct connotation of tool added to it – and a flawed one at that. Then there was the Earth-Shapen, or 'shaped-like-earth' which didn't match other instances of Earthen I'd seen elsewhere in the museum.
Was it referring to proto-dwarves rather than their Earthen Ancestors? But that didn't fit with the timeline of Archaedas' arrival at Uldaman at all, and the Troggs were even later than that.
"It continues with mentions of a plan, preparations, and a purpose of some sort, but whatever the details were?" I waved a hand at the splintered fragments that made up the rest, and what had to be dozens of others, scattered about on the same display. "Very much lost to history unless we convince the Keeper of Ancient Record to explain it to us himself."
Truthfully, trying to do just that was a rather tempting thought. Having a keeper, one of our gods even above Lord Renard, on our side would be a massive boon for the Order, and, compared to his fellow keepers, Archaedas was by far the most accessible of them all.
Besides him, only Thorim, Odyn, and... Runan? were uncorrupted, and those three were oceans away, and in the case of both Runan and Odyn, they were imprisoned on top of that. Not that it meant Archaedas would be simple to speak with – Uldaman was a buried ruin and, more problematically, was what his reaction to fleshy, and cursed, mortals intruding into his sanctuary after battling their way through his earthen guardians would be... from what I remembered, it wasn't what anyone could call friendly.
"Hey," Vivi wrapped her arm around my shoulders and pulled me into her side, "no plotting today, remember? We're on a date, having fun, not worrying about the future!" An amused little smile on her face, she pressed on my nose and giggled as I went cross-eyed. "So, what other names does the keeper have?"
Humming, I grabbed her arm and pulled it into my chest – cradling it close and smiling innocently as Vivi glanced down at my cleavage. "Of all the Keepers of Old, only Tyr's story and name is better preserved than Archaedas the Wise. As the Maker of Mountains, Keeper of Ancient Record, and Breaker of the Deeps, he is our god of history and creation – by his will the very nature of the Azeroth was forged to be as it is, with glens and dales, rising seas and mountains tall."
Were I holding true to the traditions of the Order, I shouldn't be telling the story like I was – and certainly not when I knew we had an audience of dwarves who'd noticed my translation efforts. But I wanted to share it, and if anyone might respect the story, it was the Explorers' League. "In time immemorial, before the birth of the first human, he stole away the secrets of creation from the Betrayer and hid them far from sight. He awaits a time that the Betrayer might fall, that history may be returned, and all know what came before."
I looked back to the broken tablet. "Leaving their home in Ulduar, the High Place, Archaedas and Tyr, alongside Ironaya, fled to Uldaman, the Slumbering Place, to escape the Betrayer. Yet, the Keeper of Lies did not let them go unaccosted. As their doom approached, Tyr remained behind to fight their pursuers, battling them to the death – his and theirs – to allow Archaedas' escape. In his memory, that land was forever named Tyr's Fall. Tirisfal."
And deep beneath that cursed glade lies the corpse of the monster he slew. Dead, undying, not alive yet unable to perish, and ever-whispering the madness of its cursed creator. But that... I snorted and wriggled even closer to Vivi. That wasn't something worth thinking about while on a date.
"Then these are that old too?" Vivi asked, touching the glass of the display case gently. "If they're telling the same story. It's hard to imagine just how long ago that was."
"Fifteen thousand years at the earliest." I agreed, laughing as Vivi shook her head. She didn't disbelieve me, but it was an absurd timescale to have to deal with – as was anything to do with the Titans or their servants.
Vivi leaned into me as she stared at the tablets, some thought in her head she needed to work through. Eventually, she huffed. "Let's go find something more recent." She said wryly, giving me a cheeky grin. "Like some of the fossils! You mentioned a dragon skull, right?"
Letting out a laugh, I led the way past several dwarves who'd started arguing in their own tongue and towards the Flora section, and the Fauna section beyond. Where I remembered the Hall as just one wing and one, albeit decently large, library, here it was... immense. An entire quarter of the city repurposed, countless chambers all dedicated to recording the past and present in all its forms; a collection that could rival that of the British Museum.
Much like the sodding Stormwind Embassy, they had gardens illuminated by mirror-guided sunlight, some carefully climate controlled so that they were well and truly tropical, while another was a veritable winter wonderland showing off local flora. And all around, on every wall and tucked into every nook and cranny, were pressed flowers and dried herbs, along with details on their origin.
There were even a fair few sets of seeds to go along with the displays, all warded under a preservation charm that made me feel oddly drowsy if I focused on it.
I could've spent all day in the Flora exhibits alone, especially if I wanted to wheedle some of the seeds for myself – the eponymous stranglethorn of Stranglethorn Vale would be a welcome addition to my arsenal, for sure.
But, though Vivi would indulge me if I asked, this was her date too! So I'd settle for eyeing up the various plants on display as we made our way towards the more exciting displays of the varied, and oftentimes vicious, fauna that Azeroth had to offer.
It wasn't like I wasn't interested either, just not quite as much as in the flora.
"Tingly." I said as we stopped at a pair of gently sparking Thunderlizard horns. "I didn't even know there were Thunderlizards in the Eastern..." I trailed off as I read the plaque. "Oh." Yes, they were Thunderlizards that had lived in the Eastern Kingdoms, but they were considered extinct since the War of the Three Hammers.
What with Blackrock Mountain exploding and turning what had been the verdant rift valley they called home into Searing Gorge, they hadn't exactly faired well.
Vivi reached out towards the horns and electricity arced from one, to her hand, and then back to the other before she could react. "A little more than tingly, Gwen!" She hissed as she yanked her hand back and shook it out.
"The exhibits aren't for touching, Vivi!" I snickered at her. "Especially not the ones that can fight back!"
Moving on we passed by the fossilised eggs of Wetlands raptors, taxidermied examples of various Stranglethorn beasts – all courtesy of Hemet Nessingwary, to no one’s surprise – and the skeleton of a truly immense ram, at least twice the size of those we'd ridden to Ironforge, before reaching the true centrepiece of the whole exhibit.
One couldn't truly appreciate the sheer scale of a dragon, nor the primordial fear that their very presence could evoke, until one came face to face with one. Even with only the skull of a dragon before me, I found my steps halting and slowing as goosebumps broke out across my arms.
"Light, his fangs are longer than your legs, Gwen." Vivi muttered as she kept approaching the Predator, showing none of the fear I felt. "He must have been massive!"
Taking a steadying breath I followed after her. The fear I was feeling wasn't entirely natural, something about the magic still held in the skull threatening a hunt, violence, and death in a way that rattled at my fight or flight instinct.
And oh so heavily weighted towards flight.
"Tyranastraz, rumoured to have been the elder consort of the Dragonqueen Alexstraza." I read off the plaque while Vivi walked around the skull. "Considering she's not exactly small herself, he'd need to have been big to keep up. It also says they found his body in the Wetlands after Alexstraza was freed from the orcs." Well, they called it the Battle of Grim Batol, but I knew what they meant. But that also meant... Deathwing. He died fighting Deathwing.
I raised my gaze to his skull with a frown, unease all my own rising up alongside the fear his remains evoked. They took the skull of a dragon who'd fought Deathwing, who was a royal consort, who had children and family, and put it on display without any indication they'd considered asking if doing that would be acceptable.
If they had King Terenas' body at hand, would they throw that up on display as part of an exhibit on human kings?
"Gwen." Vivi poked my nose again, startling me out of my thoughts. "You better not be planning how to meet a dragon. Not today!" She glanced back at Tyranastraz's skull. "Tomorrow? If you do, you're not leaving without me!"
"Nothing like that." I snorted. "Just thinking that, if he's really the Dragonqueen's consort, it might be a good idea to make sure she's okay with him being a way for mortals to learn about dragons." Which was just about the nicest way I could put it.
"There is little doubt that the Dragonqueen would appreciate such an overture." A man said behind me, butting into our conversation. "However, even if they do so, it is hardly the only problematic item held by the Explorers League: 'draconic' collection previously featured the taxidermied remains of several whelps, with the stated goal of acquiring one of every colour."
As I turned around the silver-haired elf began to introduce himself. "My apologies, my name is Krasus–"
"Nope." I cut him off immediately and clasped Vivi's hand with mine and pulled her up next to me. "Maybe if you ever actually read your bloody letters we could have a chance to talk, but you don't. I'm most definitely not dealing with your draconic nonsense today–" I held up our hands to kiss the back of Vivi's, "–when I'm on a date with my girlfriend. Go find someone else to bother, Korialstraz."
He blinked at me, a single eyebrow rising as he looked at me like a puzzle he had just discovered had a fifth corner piece. "Regardless–"
"Gwen said no." Vivi snapped before I could. "C'mon, Gwen. I'd always meant to visit the Great Forge before we left, and after, we can go meet up with Mountaineer Burdock for a drink or two. You'll like him! A lot more than some nosy elf at least."
As we walked around him I made a point to avoid looking at Krasus for a moment. After all this time he chooses today to show up? Well, sod him. I didn't care if he was a dragon, my life didn't revolve around his whims.
However, in the process of avoiding looking at him, I locked eyes with a blonde gnome with twin buns and a white-gold robe sitting on a plinth that was between us and the exit – when she raised a hand to wave, a bubbly grin on her face, I had to resist the urge to groan.
"Told you so!" Chromie called out loudly, then continued more quietly as we passed her. "Have a pleasant day you two, don't let anyone bother you too much!"
-oOoOo-
"Aye, the skinny lass be a good luck charm, fer sure." Burdock laughed and slapped Vivi's back before taking a long draft from his tankard; one Vivi attempted to match, much to my horror, but was forced to break away for breath before long. At least unlike the mountaineer she didn't finish with a long burp or wipe her mouth off with her sleeve. "Ye ken she dinnae even sink into snow? Watched her as she went an' just walked up tae a beastie, not a crunch or footprint in sight, an' damn near cut its arm off in one go! Weren't Vaggosh, 'course, but it weren't no small wendigo neither!"
He slapped Vivi's back again, making her break out into a wide smile from the praise. "I didn't even realise the snow was that deep until I saw you wading through it." Vivi deflected sheepishly while she stood, stepping so lightly on the freshly fallen snow that not a trace was left behind as she walked around in demonstration. "I was just trying to be quiet. Not do something fancy."
I chuckled and poked Vivi's side as she passed me. "It's just water walking, Vivi. Water, ice, snow, even steam! It's all the same stuff. Next time you'll be walking on clouds!"
"Now that'd be a sight!" Burdock guffawed loudly. "Off goes one o' the Wildhammer blighters, flying on one o' their birds, an' bam! Outta the clouds comes a flaming sword an' an angry Gilnean girl out fer blood! Would give 'em a fright fer sure, it would, seeing someone hop from one puff of air to another like that."
Fighting back my giggles at the image, and Vivi's growing blush – her already flushed features from the alcohol now turning well and truly red, even down to her collar – I took a sip of my steaming hot chocolate.
Something much, much easier to get here in Ironforge than back in Gilneas. The Deeprun Tram meant the prices were barely inflated at all. Not that ten silver hammers was in any way cheap for what would amount to a month's supply at best.
Aegwynn's gift, being handcrafted artisanal chocolates that'd never been seen before? If the box cost less than a golden sovereign, I'd be shocked.
Seeming to guess at what I was thinking about, Burdock reached around to tap his tankard to my mug. "Shame ye won't share a proper drink, lass. Thunderbrew's got a bee in his bonnet an's been brewing up a storm this last couple weeks." He took another draft and let out a deeply satisfied sigh. "He's gone an' outdone himself. Even with his 'reject' brews. An' on that note, Imma go grab something fresh off the tables – ye be wanting tae try anything?"
I wrinkled my nose and tucked myself into Vivi's side as she sat down and wrapped an arm around me. "Never enjoyed drinks that mess with my head." I mumbled, finding comfort in the way she squeezed my shoulders. "Some spiced bread and cheese if they've got any."
"Aye, aye–"
"Clear the grounds!" A bellow came from one of Ironforge's gate guards as she pushed her way in between the pair of Stromgardian warriors who'd taken up the main duelling spot for the last half hour. "Make way fer King Magni Bronzebeard! Make way fer Lord Admiral Proudmoore an' family! Make way fer High Thane Falstad Wildhammer! Riders be inbound, an' they be worth more'n any o' yer sorry hides!"
The crowd which'd been enjoying themselves scattered between the various entertainment spots and the smorgasbord of foods available, grumbled loudly as they were pushed aside and had their fun interrupted. Where they'd been comfortably far away, many found themselves pressed up to the far end where we were sitting.
After sharing a look with Vivi, we vacated our no longer secluded spot and moved to where we would have a better view of the goings on – namely by climbing one of the scraggly pines that lined the plateau's edge.
Looking into the sky, there still wasn't any sign of anyone. A series of screeches heralded a squadron of gryphons soaring out of Ironforge's gate, all rising in formation as they circled overhead, but there wasn't even a speck on the horizon to be seen.
"Who d'you think's coming?" Vivi asked as she kicked her dangling legs back and forth. "We're not missing any kings, right? I don't think we are."
Running through the list, I shook my head. "Unless someone made overtures to the Dark Irons..." Which wouldn't happen while Ragnaros was still around, surely. And even if he was gone–
Suddenly the wind shifted, rising up from beneath us with all the excitement and eagerness of an overeager puppy; Vivi started to giggle as my little breeze tickled and tousled our skin with its touch. A sense of connection and familiarity flooded what I could feel, and I smiled as I looked to the sky. "Caedan!"
Caedan was back!
There was still nothing to be seen, and it remained that way for several minutes, before the specks appeared and began to grow and multiply. One became three, then six, then eighteen as the riders approached.
When the first finally came in to land, a battle-scarred gryphon carrying its rider and a passenger, some recognised the waving gnome and began cheering. As each new gryphon came down and settled on the ground, the clamour rose; Gable Quickspark, chief engineer and designer of the Gyrocarrier Iron Belly had the gnomes and dwarves rejoicing the ship's successful voyage. Thane Lachlan MacGraff, vaunted rider of the Wildhammers who was last seen rescuing elves in Quel'Thalas, even saw the scattered elven hands applaud. But, more than any other, one passenger brought the plateau to a deafening crescendo as near every human present called out his name.
"Lightbringer!"
"Uther! Lord Uther lives!"
"The Silver Hand has returned to save us!"
Undaunted by his missing arm, he hefted an immense and gleaming mace as he marched through a corridor of rearing gryphons to reach King Magni Bronzebeard, Daelin Proudmoore, and Falstad. There he stood, patiently, for the celebration to fade to a dull roar.
"Your Majesty, Lord Admiral, High Thane. I am glad to report the results of the Kalimdor Expedition and the Battle of Mount Hyjal." He spoke clearly and with clear satisfaction in his voice. "Once more the peoples of Azeroth have stood united against a tide of darkness, and once more we stand victorious!" He held his hammer aloft, high above his head, where it shone with a resplendent and warm light, humming softly of wrongs righted and justice delivered. "Man, gnome, dwarf, and elf! Gilnean or Stromic! Wildhammer or Bronzebeard! We fought together as one!
"Yet we did not stand alone! The ancient elven Kaldorei and their forest spirits, the noble tauren of the Bloodhoof tribe, and even the trolls of the Darkspear and Shadowtooth clans fought beside our armies!"
Sweeping his hammer behind him he made a gesture for someone to come forth, and my eyes widened for a moment. Escorted by Caedan, to whom I waved enthusiastically, came a small-ish green figure. An orcish girl, her back stiff and arms tense, but wearing a tabard of the Silver Hand and with a mace much like Uther's at her hip.
"Even our foes of years past stood alongside us against the darkness that threatened our world. Though nothing can be done to mend the ills of the past, we must look to the future: I was wrong to spurn my brother in the Light, Tirion Fordring, for he was right!" His voice rose, fierce and protective as the crowd's tone shifted from exuberant joy to agitated confusion. "There are orcs with honour! Eitrigg! Varok! And so, I present to you my squire. Thura Saurfang of the Blackrock Clan."
Dropping his hammer into the snow Uther placed his hand on Thura's shoulder and she, after taking a moment to firm herself, held one hand to her heart and the other above her head. Slowly and haltingly, telling of needing more practice, she began to glow with the song of the Light.
She held her magic for mere moments, but the hymn of her Light lingered in the air just as the impact of an orc wielding the Light did. A song of battle, a call to uphold honour, and a call to fight for all that was righteous in the world.
"Ye bring a surprising guest, Uther." King Magni said with a huff, his arms crossed before he let out a bark of laughter. "But we've seen stranger. Thura, then. I bid ye welcome to Ironforge on behalf o' the Bronzebeard Clan." He nodded as he made his proclamation, adding a sense of finality to his statement. "Yer the first orc to have a chance to see the proper majesty o' Khaz Modan, so ye better find time to appreciate it!"
Jaina shook off her father's arm to move up to Uther and his squire. "I apologise for my sudden departure, Uther. The Magna was insistent." She knelt to look Thura in the eye. "And it's good to see you again, Thura. I hope the ride wasn't too alarming."
"Was fun." Thura said with a heavy accent, her voice carrying in the air with a tinge of arcane buzz. "Got to see lots. Mountains are big, very biggest. And cold." She shivered and shot a glare up at Uther. "Not a Frostwolf. Master."
"Aye, it be a bit nippy." King Magni chuckled as he looked at the bare-chested Falstad who looked to be regretting his clothing choices. "Let us bring the returning heroes in somewhere warm where they can have a drink. In fact, let everyone have a drink! For battles fought and wars won!"
With a new wave of cheers erupting, the procession started to make its way inside the city. A great many of the watching crowd followed along behind, hoping to hear more, or simply catch a glimpse of their king or Uther.
Others, however, just went back to their merrymaking – and with far more to celebrate this time.
"Suppose you should go talk with him." Vivi grumbled, rocking back and forth as she kicked her legs. "Can you believe Uther has an orc for a squire?!"
I had to stop and think for a moment, realising with some embarrassment that I hadn't relayed what Jaina'd told me to Vivi yet. "I already spoke with Jaina." I mumbled guiltily. "She told me about Thura already, and everything I'd want to talk to Uther about. I'm sure something will come up, but–" Grabbing her hand I jumped out of the tree, pulling her with me. "–today? Nope! Today's our date, so let's join in and dance!"
-oOoOo-
Unfortunately, my day of freedom to spend with Vivi eventually came to an end and, as much as I might wish otherwise, some things I'd been asked to help with did warrant my attention. So, after a morning of somewhat frantic preparation, I found myself standing outside a solid steel door in the Hall of Arms of the Military Ward as it slowly shuddered open; there was no need for anyone to announce my presence as with the great rumbling of the mechanism every head inside at least glanced up to discern who had interrupted their discussion.
Even if it ruined any element of surprise or chance to have fun with my arrival, at least it drowned out the sharp barks of gunfire that had been echoing out of the shooting ranges. It hadn't been that long ago that the sound of rifle fire meant someone I cared about was getting shot at, and it still set me on edge.
With confidence borne of Vivi's stalwart presence at my side – and the entirety of Darius' complement of guards in full armament falling in behind us – I ignored the eyes of half a dozen major figures, and marched my way in with notes and papers held tightly to my chest.
Though I had to admit, having the full force of Uther's ever-present Hymn refocusing entirely upon me alongside his gaze, a judging of my intent and actions, was nearly enough to make me pause anyway.
Uther had a presence equal to Antonidas or King Magni, but where theirs was all-encompassing his was sharpened to a razor's edge.
"An' here's the lass! Good t'see ya!" Falstad chuffed good-naturedly as he slapped Kael'thas on the back. "Told ye she'd come in the end, laddie. Just had tae take a bit o' time with her partner's all. Hestra ken I need tae take a day tae go flyin' with Swiftwing sometimes meself!"
"At no point did I voice any concern as to whether Gwyneth would lend her aid, merely as to the consequences of recent events. Trust once lost is not easily reestablished." Kael'thas replied casually as he graced me with a smile. "It is a pleasure to see you again, Gwyneth, and you as well, Vivianne. We were just going over the reports gathered from those who were rotated out of the Sons of Lothar's forces during their expedition to Draenor and would appreciate any insight you may offer."
King Thoras snorted and lowered his gaze back towards the sheafs of paper and parchment that littered the map table in the middle of the chamber. "An insult to good reports. What we have are the half-remembered ramblings of those unable to serve and the last words of a dozen others. Until such a time as Netherguard provides their records we are blind."
"Well, I should be able to help with that. Presuming a rough map of Outland as it exists some time in the next decade will be satisfactory?" I asked, briefly catching Modera's gaze before looking away and making myself focus. The regret there, her desire to reconnect as master and apprentice, remained awkward to deal with. "Not the only thing I've brought, of course, but even with the scale wrong I imagine it will be useful."
Setting down my papers on the edge of the table only obscured the map even more, but I could just about plot the shape of Dalaran's territories – the southern shore of Lordaeron Lake, the Alterac Mountains to the east, and what must be Archmonde's summoning site just south-east of the city.
The best route into Outland we had at the moment.
"But before that, I have some matters I was putting off, if there are no complaints?" I looked around as I separated a small letter and a scroll wrapped around a vial from the rest of my notes.
"If you believe it is important enough to be mentioned, I see no reason to refuse." Modera offered kindly. "Ignoring your words has gone poorly in the past and I see no reason to repeat the same mistakes we have made before."
Huffing, King Thoras rolled his eyes. "Get on with it. But remember what we came here for – each of us has fellows trapped beyond that blasted portal: Danath, Turalyon, Kurdran, Alleria, and Khadgar. We owe it to them and their men to get them home."
That we did, I agreed with a nod. "For you, Your Highness." I passed the vial and scroll over to Kael'thas. "My methods as best Archmage Tindersnap was able to translate into arcane terms, along with my own observations on what I did. If your own Magisters are unable to reproduce them I recommend seeking out the Thornspeakers of Drustvar as it is their techniques I utilised to cleanse the sample." I grimaced. "The Order isn't ready to do the same, and I cannot make the offer without Speaker Celestine's say-so."
Unravelling the scroll, he lifted the vial and unsealed its top at arm's length – only for his eyebrows to rise and openly twitch as he brought it closer, the miasma and distressing aura of the corruptive magics now entirely absent. "Remarkable." He said, hand reaching for the scroll only to pause. "I had not imagined any success might come so soon."
After a moment's thought, he tucked the scroll into his robe alongside the vial. "I shall ensure it is studied carefully. Once more Quel'thalas is in your debt, Gwyneth Arevin."
"At least some of them appreciate you." Vivi whispered quietly into my ear. But despite her volume, Kael'thas' ears twitched and gave away that he heard us – as did the smile and nod he offered us both.
I smiled back and turned to King Magni. "And this is a matter I regret leaving for so long. A letter for you and your brother, Your Majesty." I held it out to the king – only for one of his guards to step in and take it, glaring at it fiercely through their helmet. "It regards Muradin Bronze–"
As the name passed my lips King Magni snatched the letter from his guard's hand and tore it open. His hands clenched tightly as he scanned over its contents, the description of what occurred with Arthas and Frostmourne – right up until the words I knew would catch his attention. Muradin's survival, his departure from Frostmourne's resting place, into the wilds of Northrend. Wounded, amnesiac, but alive.
He locked eyes with me over the top of the letter, held close like it might disappear from his grasp at any moment, and I nodded. Before I could say anything his head snapped to the table, the planning underway, and he heaved a great breath.
"Perhaps it would be wise tae leave grand revelations till the end o' meetings, Witch Arevin." He frowned ruefully and tugged at his beard. "But I wouldnae be appreciatin' ye keeping it from me fer any longer than needed. Let us get this done with so I can be findin' me brother an' daughter; Muradin lives an' we've another blasted expedition to plan."
"Then let us move swiftly through what we have." Lord Uther declared, breaking his silence. "Lady Jaina remarked to me that you offered the possibility of a local guide to Draenor? Had I known before our departure from Kalimdor I would have asked my squire's brother to fulfil the role."
"There are a number of Frostwolves who would know Draenor well, at least as it was prior to the Dark Portal's opening." I began spreading out my crudely drawn map over the table; sketched on the largest piece of parchment I could find, it was sizeable, yet despite my best efforts I knew it was lacking in detail. And that the scale was, at best, disproportionate.
It had been a very, very long time since I did any form of cartography, and even longer since I tried doing it by hand – I hadn't even remembered that I'd had the hobby Before until I put pen to paper and started sketching.
"Outland, as it came to be known after the breaking of the world, is little more than a remnant of what it once was. The Spires of Arak are gone, as is Frostfire Ridge, and where the oceans once were is the void of the Twisting Nether. To say that it is uninhabitable is... incorrect, but it is not a pleasant place to eke out survival." I explained as I settled the map in place. "Starting from the Dark Portal we have Hellfire Peninsula, which leads towards the former Zangar Sea in Zangarmarsh, Terrokar Forest, then onto Nagrand, Blades Edge Mountains, Shadowmoon Valley, and finally the Nether Storm."
I tapped the regions in turn before returning to Hellfire Peninsula. "For Alliance remnants, we have Honour Hold in Hellfire, the Alleria Stronghold in Terrokar, the Wildhammer Stronghold in Shadowmoon, and the Kirin’Var village in the Netherstorm."
"Of these, the easiest to find will be Honour Hold, as it overlooks the..." I grimaced, feeling dirty just calling it by its name. "'Path of Glory' between Hellfire Citadel and the Dark Portal. The Alleria Stronghold is nestled between two mountains beside a river on the edge of the Bone Wastes, which may or may not exist yet. The last two are much harder to place with any precision, but I've noted their general area."
"So, we are to look for our people beside a landmark that probably doesn't exist." King Trollbane grumbled as he leaned over the table for a better look. "We knew about Honour Hold already. It was the main base of operations after Vigilance fell and we sent enough supply trains through during the campaign that if we didn't know where it was it would be an embarrassment."
He raised his head to frown at me. "I had heard great things about Gilneas' pet prophet. Why can you not tell us whether this 'Bone Waste' will be present or not? What could erase a landmark as large as this?" He waved a hand at the crosshatched lines covering the southern half of Terrokar Forest.
"Trollbane." King Magni rumbled warningly.
"To answer your question," I hissed out, cutting off anything King Magni might've had to say, "my knowledge of the future did not come with convenient timestamps. Perhaps it has something to do with the struggle a child would face trying to retain decades worth of visions they were bombarded with, or, maybe, the fact people do not carry around placards declaring the date for all who might foresee their actions to read."
"And as the rest of us do not share your lack of understanding, or indeed distaste for, magic, King Trollbane, we were already aware of this." Modera snapped at him. "Gwyneth's predictions are accurate beyond even my own, but they are not without flaw."
"Namely, that I got them once and it was years before I had any real chance to make any notes. Not being born royalty does have its drawbacks, Your Majesty." I huffed at him. "The Bone Wastes were created by orcish warlocks that caused a detonation in the tomb complex of Auchindoun. That could have happened yesterday, it could happen tomorrow, or it could be years from now – all that I know for certain is that they should exist by the time the Dark Portal opens for a third time."
"Auchindoun. Alongside Shattrath, Telaar, and Telredor it does not correspond to anything I believe an elf, human, or dwarf would use as a name." Kael'thas noted curiously. "Nor would an orc to my knowledge."
"Nor mine." Uther concurred. "The orcs speak little of their past, yet what little I gathered made clear they were not alone on their homeworld."
I let out a satisfied laugh as I smiled and grabbed the relevant set of notes. "I intended to leave the history lesson for later, and for King Magni's sake I will keep it short. The demons known as the Eredar are not the only survivors of their species and are also known as the Man'ari, relating to their demonic corruption, while the others are known as the draenei – or the Exiled Ones in their own tongue. A peer to Archimonde and Kil'Jaeden, the Prophet Velen, foresaw the truth behind the Burning Legion and rejected it, gathering like-minded individuals and fleeing before it was too late. And they–"
"Eventually came to the orcish homeworld, and named it Draenor." Modera finished for me. "The reports described the Path of Glory being paved with bones... but we considered it absurd. How could the orcs have done that to themselves...? But if it wasn't their own people..."
"All that was done to Stormwind, or Quel'Thalas, only there were no friendly lands to flee to. No escape from the onslaught save to retreat into the wilderness and hide, hoping to never be found." I answered solemnly. "There were no innocent orcs that stepped through the Dark Portal, only those with degrees of guilt."
"And ye would consider allyin' with them?!" Falstad growled. "Lass, ye've only made me believe ye even more wrong abou' the orcs!"
"The Frostwolves rejected what the Horde was and left, avoiding battle against humanity. They've committed no crimes against us–"
"Enough." King Magni ordered loudly. "Whatever the morality o' the orcs, it be a discussion fer another time. Mebe we decide to ask one o' these Frostwolves to be a guide, mebe we don't. But tha's something we can think on an' decide another day." He waited until we settled before turning to me. "I assume ye be sayin' these draenei be allies we might be findin' on Dra– Outland."
"They would join the Alliance in the future, yes. Prophet Velen is a priest of the Light and the draenei have a strong faith surrounding it, which means there're shared values to work with." I bit my tongue as I was about to explain more.
King Magni was very much impatient at this point and I shouldn't try to press the explanation. It was in the notes I was giving them anyway.
"While I can't tell you that rescuing the draenei needs to be done, I can recommend an attempt to contact them at the very least. Even if it's just to inform them Azeroth exists and that we've fought against the Burning Legion and beaten them back, that would be enough. They've enough knowledge and skill to make their own way here so long as they're aware it's a possibility."
Tapping his fingers against the table, King Magni frowned. "I dinnae like it. We'll be stretched thin enough as it is between the troggs, Scourge, an' finding the Sons o' Lothar. An' now I've got to add rescuing me brother into that! We've no got enough men fer all of it."
"Perhaps that is true." Lord Uther said stoically, but his hymn rose to a new height, promising aid to those in need. "Yet what are we if we do not try? Gwyneth may not have the authority to order any to seek these draenei out, but as Supreme Commander of the Silver Hand, I do." He let out a soft chuckle. "Already I have made a promise to my squire to seek out her cousin if he lives. Adding another shall be no great burden."
Kael'thas hummed and pressed his fingers together. "The logistics of reaching and searching... Outland will already be challenging. However, there are clear benefits to doing so. Our knowledge of the Burning Legion and their tactics is lacking, and whatever Velen may provide will be of value."
"Are these draenei any good in a fight?" Thoras asked me directly, to which I nodded. "Then if they're willing to fight for a home, I say we let them. Find them, tell them, but focus on the Sons." He scowled at Uther. "And ignore the damned orcs."
After a moment, Modera let out a sigh. "Until we've done a survey of the situation at the summoning site we won't know how much leeway we have. In that light, let us plan our minimum goals before adding additional ones."
Having said my piece about the draenei, I held back and largely let them argue, only interjecting when they had a question for me, or said something that I had an answer for. Magni's concerns were, annoyingly, logical, and hard to dismiss. What's more, he had the data to back it up – bringing in Thane Stormpike to list off exactly where Ironforge's forces were committed at present.
In the end, it was decided, tentatively, that the draenei would be contacted if possible, but no wide-ranging search would be forthcoming with them as a singular target. It was disappointing compared to what I'd hoped when I was writing my notes this morning, but... hard to argue with in the light of the numbers Magni gave.