#threeyeartimegap

[sekhisadventures]

Goblin Ingenuity

Orgrimmar, The Feast of Winter’s Veil, the Close of Year 38 After First War

“I GOT HIM! I GOT HIM!” snarled Galdia as she rushed towards the extremely festive shredder and swung her Pandaren-forged sword at it, which rebounded off it’s metal frame with a tremendous clang! The machine’s arm, spinning wildly, smacked her under the jaw and knocked her clear off her feet and back across the Valley of Strength! “… I don’t got him.” she grunted, tried to pick herself up, then fell back onto the ground unconscious.

Nitika lashed out with another blast of sunlight but it glinted off the polished metal of the robot, reflecting into one of the cliff walls and blasting several rocks free.

“Fookin’ fel mon!” snarled Mola’raum, “Of all da things ta go crazy, it’s a robot! What da fook are we gonna do here?” Grimo was the only one whose attacks would really affect a creature of metal and circuitry. Sekhi had tried overloading it by channeling lightning into it, but it had only seemed to cause it to erupt with a burst of electricity that had launched the vulpera into the side of the general store, knocking her out.

Grimo glared at it, dammit it had all been the perfect idea! The whole ‘Greatfather Winter’ thing was a great scam. Get people to buy souvenirs and have their pictures taken with Jolly Ol’ Winter and he had that old shredder bot gathering dust in the back of his workshop ever since he’d invested in a new Xiwyllag ATV, so why not paint it red and white, stuff a giant fake beard on it, and call it Greatfather Winter?

Well, he’d found that out when some of the more curious Mag’har had brought their own kid around, and the kid asked Greatfather Winter to find his parents a way to return to Draenor.

Turns out making an impossible holiday wish had shorted the damn thing out! It had a critical error, deleted the concept of ‘Nice’ Grimo had programmed it with, fried the punch card reader, and gone berserk! Now he and the rest of Savage United had to sort it out before it wrecked Orgrimmar!

Thing is the shredder wasn’t just any shredder. It was the Sky Golem he’d used before he got his ATV! It was weather sealed, made of high durability living steel created using Pandaren alchemy and damn near bulletproof! He blasted off another explosive round, the bullet’s impact echoing around the valley as it created a tremendous flash, and barely scorched the metal. “Son of a BITCH!” he swore as his twin L.U.P.E. robots charged in, barking mechanically at it.

As they did however the machine stomped forward, and one of its feet raised up… “Oh shit… No no no no NO!” shouted Grimo, “L.U.P.E! Recall! RECALL!” he slammed on his bracer frantically with his fingertips, pressing the buttons that allowed him manual override of the robots.

He had two robotic dogs, one blue and one green. The blue one skidded to a halt before rushing back to him, but the green one… he stared, the antenna on its head had been broken in the melee! It couldn’t receive the override signal! “DAMMIT! L.U.P.E 2! OVERRIDE COMBAT MODE AND RETURN TO MASTER! OVERRIDE CODE WHISKEY TANGO DELTA MU-…” he shouted, and the foot came down.

There was a massive squeal of metal and a burst of electricity that lit up the area, and the SantaShredder 5000 stepped forward off what remained of the mechanical hound.

“… rloc…” finished Grimo, his eye twitching. “… oh that FUCKIN’ TEARS IT!” he snarled, “L.U.P.E 1! EXECUTE COMMAND: FETCH THE BIGG’UN! AUTHORIZATION CODE: DEEP FRIED ASSHOLES!” he snapped as the robot’s eyes flashed and it rushed down through the Drag to the ruins of Grimo’s old workshop.

Nitika looked at him in a worried way, then yelped and conjured a shield of sunlight just as the robot’s fist slammed forward, protecting herself just in time. “Griiiiiiiimo… what is your robot doing?” she asked in a strained voice.

Grimo ignored her, staring daggers at the shredder. “That bucket of bolts scrapped my damn masterpiece! The L.U.P.E was my magnum opus!” he snarled as Edwood dropped another Infernal in its path, the felfire elemental managing to drive it back… but the warlock’s powers could only animate one for a short time, otherwise the shredder would already be destroyed.

Mola’raum glanced back at him as well, sending a freshly risen ghoul at it to buy more time, “Grimo… dat ‘authorization code’ thingy… makin’ me tink o’ somethin’ specific…” he frowned, the runes on his spear sputtering. He’d spent a lot of his power today…

Sekhi and Galdia were still down, Edwood was barely managing to dent the shredder, and suddenly the remaining L.U.P.E. came rushing back with dirt caking it’s metal claws and a familiar rifle held in its mouth.

“AH SHIT MON!” cringed Mola’raum, “IT BE FOOKIN’ TITANSTRIKE!”

Nitika grimaced, her shield faltering as she heard Mola’raum, then yelped as the shredder arm knocked her back, the seeress stumbling to a halt several yards back. It was only her impressive physical strength as a member of the tauren people that kept her upright. "AUGH! GRIMO! NO! DON’T YOU DARE!” she demanded.

Grimo ignored them both, taking the rifle from his robot’s mouth and aiming the barrel at the SantaShredder 5000. “Fuckin’ piece of scrap… everyone in fuckin’ Orgrimmar is gonna be pissed at me again, gonna demand I pay for all the shit you busted, and you WRECKED MY DAMN L.U.P.E. 2! EAT IT YA PILE’A GARBAGE!” he roared, pulling the trigger.

There was a massive eruption of lightning from the barrel, the modified titan-made weapon sending a beam of pure energy into the face of the shredder, lighting up the entire valley as if the sun had exploded! The shredder stumbled backwards several steps, smoke and heat boiling off it's face! However, Grimo hadn’t had a chance to fully charge it this time and the beam dissipated quickly, but the top half of the shredder’s mouth had been blown off along with a good chunk of the building and walls of the valley nearby. It wasn’t fully charged, but this was the gun that almost incinerated half of the city once.

Grimo tossed the rifle to the ground, then ran forward, his eyes on the shredder. “OH FEL NO! YOU AIN’T GETTING OUTTA THIS WITH JUST A BLOODY NOSE!” he shouted, slapping his belt buckle. With a beep a pair of rocket boosters on his waist ignited, catapulting the goblin into the air! He landed on its face, gripping it firmly with one hand as his other thrust into his engineering bag, coming up with a rather nasty metal sphere with a skull and crossbones on it, and a grenade pin in the top.

He tore the pin out with his teeth, spit it away as sparks began to fly from it, then grinned wickedly, “HAVE SOME DYNAMITE DOWN YER THROAT!” he snapped, stuffing the bomb into the wrecked shredder mouth, then diving back before the arms could grab him and running away as fast as he could go.

A moment later there was a tremendous explosion, half of the valley filling up with smoke!

Slowly, it cleared to reveal Nitika near the still unconscious Galdia and Sekhi, shielding them with a barrier of sunlight. Mola’raum had taken cover inside one of the shops with Edwood, and Grimo strode forward through it, a lit cigar already in his mouth.

The shredder’s top half was completely slagged, sparks shooting up as it’s voice box began working. “T- t- t- t- t- t- t-the time is n- n- n- n- n- n- n-noooooow Mid… Mid… Mid… Mid… [Twelve o’ Clock AM.]” It stammered out in a broken voice, “HaaaaaaaaAAAAAAaaaaappy Win- Win- Win- Win- Win- Win- Win- Win- Winter’s Veil to one one one one one one and aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaall…” it managed, then the sparks ceased as it fell forward onto the floor of the valley with a crash that shook the ground nearby, then went still.

Grimo sucked down the cigar as if he had a grudge against it, then flicked the butt away and walked to the ruined remains of L.U.P.E. 2, inspecting it. “Fuckin’ fel… chassis is totally wrecked, broken straight through in several places. Servos and joints are bent all over the godsdamn place, engine is a pile of spare parts…” he spat on the ground, “This thing survived the Twilight’s Hammer, the Mogu, the Legion, and THIS is what does it in?! A fuckin’ Holiday Mascot?!” he scowled, pinching the bridge of his nose and growling. “I can’t even get the fuckin’ parts for this thing anymore! They only ever made half this shit on Kezan and those fabrication plants are still buried under a few hundred tons of dried up lava rock!” he turned his back to it, “Uuuuugh… what the fuck am I gonna…” he started… then paused.

Nitika was holding Titanstrike by the barrel, and her eyes were deep violet.

“Uh… ah shit, look Darkhoof. Ya can’t deny that gun wound up savin’ our bacon twice now. Remember? The Soul Eater when the Mawsworn came to nab Thrall got taken down by that thing too!” he pointed out, his eyes on the modified weapon.

“Yeah, and you almost burnt down Orgrimmar with it once, and this whole thing was your fault too.” growled Nitika’s darker self, “Sunny just tried to hide it somewhere on Azeroth… but I know a better place for it.” she smiled, a rather nasty smile.

Grimo paled, “HEY HEY HEY! NO FUCKIN’ WAY! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW MUCH I HAD TO PAY TO GET THAT DAMN THING?!” he shouted, stepping forward, then backpedaling fast as Nitika’s body shifted into a mass of swirling shadow.

“Do I know? Nope. Do I care? Nope. Sunny and I agree this time Grimo.” she nodded, stomping her hoof. The air next to her shimmered, then suddenly rent in half, revealing a hole of almost perfect blackness. “This thing is going where you CAN’T get it back!”

Grimo cursed, rushing forward, but he was too slow. Nitika tossed the gun through the portal and Titanstrike disappeared, swirling end over end, into the dark depths of the Void…

“SON OF A BITCH! DARKHOOF WHAT THE FEL?! A FEW MORE MODIFICATIONS AND IT WOULD HAVE BEEN PERFECTLY SAFE!” he screamed as the portal slammed shut, “I… I…” he glared at her, and for a moment it almost looked like anger would win out over survival instincts… but then the goblin just growled, turned around, and took an empty sack out of his pack. He gathered up the remains of the destroyed L.U.P.E. bot into it before storming back through Orgrimmar towards Bilgewater Harbor.

Savage United HQ, two months later, Year 39 After First War

Grimo was hard at work in his workshop, a loud banging sound coming from inside as he riveted the last few pieces into place. He’d lost a robot and a gun… but he was a goblin godsdammit! He knew how he could fix both problems in one go…

He did a quick wielding job once the rivets were in place, then raised up his goggles and nodded, “That oughta do it… ain’t gonna be as good as before, but fuck it…” he smirked, “It’ll do.”

As he did Nitika walked into the workshop, having to lean down to get under the doorframe. It was big, but so was she. “Grimo, we’ve still got a few people in Orgrimmar making claims for that mess from Winter’s Veil. The others are all out doing some contracts but its time you got out there too. ‘Leader’ or not, it was YOUR damn robot that…” she paused, noticing that he was standing with the satisfaction of someone who had just completed something important and taking a quick inventory of nearby exits and things big enough to hide behind.

“Yeah yeah, fine, need ta test this baby out anyways.” he grinned, hefting the object. “Feast yer eyes Nitika! A custom-made Deadshot Handcannon!” he grinned toothily, cocking the rifle.

It was chromed, it had twin razor-sharp bayonets, it had spikes along the top of the barrel… the thing  looked dangerous to even hold!

“Melted down the old L.U.P.E. chassis to make this baby. Accurate at up to two hundred paces, telescopic scope, quick loading bullet chamber that can house all sorts of nasty shit, full automatic mode for emergencies… I mean… I lost a dog and a gun, had ta figure SOMEthing out…” he glared at her, the goblin still sore about what Darkhoof had done.

Nitika frowned, “We’re not apologizing Grimo. Titanstrike was too damn dangerous.” she replied, folding her arms over her torso.

“Yeah yeah, whatever…” he grunted, holstering his new gun and walking past her into the lobby, taking a stack of contracts and flipping through them.

“Lets see… furblogs giving some builders a headache nearby, nah Sekhi threw a fit last time… ogres obstructing passage through the Southern Barrens and demanding heavy tolls… nah, that one got sorted by one of the guilds last month, this is old…” he crumpled it up, tossing it away, “Naga incursion, ain’t testing how waterproof this thing is yet… AHA! Scourge sightings near Felwood! We got a winner BAYBEE!” he smirked, tucking that contract into his bag and pressing a button on his bracer. There was a distant beep as the intact L.U.P.E. bot ran out of his quarters and joined him, “Goin’ out on a weapons test Nitts! Don’t wait up!” he called as he ambled out of the office to where his ATV was parked.

Nitika sighed, shaking her head in annoyance, “Whatever…” she muttered, glancing at the contract stack. Half of them were from Autumn, but the other half were more recent…

She flipped through a few, then her eyes widened. “Oh fel…” she whispered, reaching for her gemstone and drawing a rune on it, then looking up as she heard a whistling coming from the backroom. She stuck her head through and scowled, “DAMMIT GRIMO!” she shouted as she saw his own gemstone on the workbench, forgotten. “Right, fine then…” she snorted in annoyance, drawing another rune…

The Ashenvale/Felwood border, some hours later

Grimo landed his ATV and climbed out, the L.U.P.E. hopping out of the back and running next to it’s creator, then matching his pace as he walked through the trees. Most of the Night Elf territories were still abandoned, their people loath to come back to a land that had seen so much bloodshed and destruction, especially now that they were so few. Between Sylvannas at Darkshore and Arthas at Silvermoon elves had practically become an endangered species on Azeroth.

The Felwood hadn’t always been that, once it was just as lush and vibrant as any other part of Northern Kalimdor until the Third War. When the Legion came their passage blighted the land, scarring it with a taint that would take generations to remove, if it ever could be, which made it an ideal place for certain types of beings.

Grimo stopped at the edge of the forest, then flipped down his goggles and activated his N.M.E. meter, NecroMantic Energy. He scanned around, then frowned as he found a huge concentration of the stuff. “Shit… well, the contract said they were being led by someone. Maybe it’s a rogue death knight or somethin’…” he muttered, reaching down to his belt and flicking a switch. With a shimmer of light both he and the robot became, if not truly invisible, very VERY hard to see… as if their bodies had suddenly gone see-through. They were still there, the view was oddly distorted where they were, but a casual glance would reveal nothing and even then it’d take a sentient mind to recognize something was amiss…

Grimo strode through the blighted woods, frowning as he did, his rifle at the ready. “Hm… lets see…” he muttered, walking at a slow measured pace. He may be a goblin, but he wasn’t an idiot. Infact, the only one of their circle of allies who was likely smarter than him in pure book smarts would be Nelen himself. But while the mage would use his knowledge to, say, plumb the secrets of the cosmos Grimo would use his to design a better bomb, then use it.

Eventually he reached a clearing, then swore under his breath and raised his goggles. “Okay… the contract didn’t say that damn many…”

The clearing was very big and full of half-collapsed buildings in the kal'dorei style. It had once been a village, and it was swarming with undead. Gargoyles roosting on the buildings, ghouls padding along mindlessly, even a few geists leaping from rooftop to rooftop as they cackled madly and floating along through it was a Lich… except, he wasn’t alone.

“Oh fel…” whispered Grimo as his large bat-like ears picked up their words.

“So yes, while I certainly know the land and the forces arrayed against us, I lack the means to be direct. Orgrimmar is too close to us here, the Horde would be upon us in minutes if we were to strike even a small settlement…” spoke the skeletal necromancer, “I believe it would be in our best interests to recognize that your master would be the obvious candidate to replace the true lord of the Scourge now that Zovaal has been… deposed.”

A figure stood near him, nodding slowly. A huge creature with ashen grey skin and glowing crimson eyes, cloven hooves for feet, and large bat-like wings. A pair of twin curling horns grew from its forehead, and it wore armor of a deep bloody red. “Indeed. I have relayed your offer to the Sire, and he is intrigued… he is eager to rebuild his power after Renethal’s coup. Perhaps we can come to an arrangement…”

Grimo’s eyes bulged. A dreadlord, and not only that, but they were also talking about the ‘Sire!’ That could only mean one being… “Fuckin’ fel, this shit involves Denathrius?!” he hissed under his breath. “This is way outta my pay grade… I need to get the fel outta here…” he whispered, slowly backing up, then stopping as he came into contact with something hard.

He reached up, feeling over what was behind him, then slowly turned and looked up into the bat-like features of a gargoyle that had landed behind him. The goblin was still invisible, but the creature could clearly tell something was there.

“… fuck.” he whimpered as its wings spread as if to wrap around what was infront of it and then the goblin panicked, jammed his rifle under its chin, and pulled the trigger. The gunshot echoed across the glade and the gargoyle went down headless!

“WHAT WAS THAT?!” demanded the dreadlord, his head snapping around in Grimo’s direction.

The Lich waved a hand, motes of darkness trailing from it, and the goblin swore as his stealth belt shorted out, he and his robot becoming visible again!

“A Horde spy! MINIONS! CAPTURE THE GOBLIN! HE MUST NOT ESCAPE!” commanded the lich as every undead in the village immediately turned to face Grimo.

“Oh shit…” swore the goblin, readying his rifle as his hand went to his bomb bag, but the undead massively outnumbered him, there had to at least be a hundred that he could see!

Suddenly the bushes rustled, and a swarm of undead erupted from behind as well! Grimo felt his heart lodge in his throat, but these undead ran past him and dove towards the ones in the village!

“GO GET ‘EM BRUDDAHS! SHOW ‘EM DA POWER OF DA EBON BLADE!” shouted a trollish voice.

Grimo started, then looked back, “Mola?!” he asked in surprise.

The death knight ran into the clearing next to him, spear at the ready. “You are one fookin’ lucky gobbo Grimo… yanno how hard it was ta find ya?!” he snorted at him, his communication gem in his hand, “OI! It be Mola’raum! I got ‘im, tell da odders ta head fer me!” he said into it, then stuffed it away.

Grimo turned back to the melee as the Lich snarled in fury, beginning to glide forward, and then there was a cry from above and a lightning bolt slammed down into the ground before him, electricity arcing along the path! Grimo knew that one, it was a shaman’s spell!

When the dust cleared however it wasn’t a shaman, but two! A huge pandaren man stood there, a vulpera girl sitting on his shoulder! The fox-like woman jumped down onto the ground as he drew a pair of maces from his belt, grinning at the undead forces. “Oh this’ll be FUN…” chuckled Zhan-min, “Ready ta light ‘em up lil’ missy?” he asked Sekhi.

The vulpera shuddered, the sound of Felwood’s song making her head and heart ache, but she nodded firmly, “Y-yeah!” she yipped, pulling out her flute and staring down the undead mob and from behind them Grimo heard the sound of many approaching feet.

“AVALON! CHARGE! TAKE THE SCOURGE TA PIECES!” came the voice of Dareley Steelhammer as the paladin rode into view astride his blessed ram. A burst of holy light erupted from his sword and tore into several ghouls before him, burning their undead flesh to ashes.

Jaie leapt over a nearby bush, rolling as she landed and turning it into a diving kick at a geist. Her foot connected with the gangly creature’s head, sending it flying free of its body before she grabbed her spear and lashed out. The tip slashed into several ghouls as she channeled her chi through the weapon as well, the energies of life blasting away the enchantments animating their dead flesh!

A group of undead mages began to channel a spell at them, but one of them suddenly screamed as it’s body erupted in purple light, then it crumpled into a pile of bones as its magic and soul were ripped away by a pair of void crystal daggers. Samantha Montebank grinned as she dove at another, lashing out with Annulus’ Void-borne power.

Grimo’s head turned this way and that, his eyes wide, “Ain’t complain’ Mola, but what the fel is Avalon doin’ here?” he asked.

There was a loud crunching behind him as Nitika strode into view, “That contract you grabbed was old Grimo,” she frowned, smacking him upside the head before dropping his communication gemstone into his hands, the goblin almost fumbling it. “The updated one noted that they’d identified the leader as a lich and that the undead force was a lot bigger than they thought it’d be so I called in some help and Ed summoned them here.”

Nelen appeared next to him in a swirl of arcane energies, “I scryed the area before we came and saw the dreadlord was here as well. I don’t know what one of them is doing here, but it can’t be anything good.” he nodded, grinning as he looked to his side, “Ready to test out your Winter’s Veil Gift?”

Shalandrae grinned back, the staff Journey’s End held at the ready. “Driving the scourge out of my ancestral homeland? Nelen, I can think of nothing better.” she replied, “ANDU-FALAH-DOR!” she cried out, channeling her power through the stave as it glowed with sunlight, and a blast of pure solar energy slammed down into a mob of the undead, several of them bursting into flames from the intense heat as Galdia roared and charged into view, Nightpelt at her side as she raced towards the enemies.

From behind her Edwood cackled, the Forsaken darkcaster tearing a hole in reality long enough for an infernal to slam down into the undead horde as well. Felwood was blighted, but so was he! The corrupted energies of the forest empowered his magic!

Nearby Zhan-min and Sekhi lashed out with the power of the elements. Zhan-min fought up close, slamming his enchanted maces into the scourged fighters, sending limbs flying in all directions.

Sekhi played her flute, the connection it gave her to the element of air sending lightning bolts crashing down into their foes as she swirled and danced, their claws always seeming to just miss the diminutive vulpera.

Jaie and Dareley stood back-to-back, the monk’s fists a blur as Dareley slashed with his Kyrian-forged spellblade, his sword glowing with a blessed golden light. Any undead who came near were sent howling back, the Light making their dead nerves erupt in agony!

As Shalandrae strode forward and shifted into the form of a massive stone grizzly bear, Nelen nodded to Nitika. “Shall we?” he asked with a grin, his grin widening as fur erupted along his body, the magus transforming into a worgen as Nitika grinned back, her eyes flashing purple.

“We shall.” replied Nitika Darkhoof, her body becoming a swirling mass of shadows as they joined the battle.

Grimo blinked, punch drunk as the attacking army was suddenly beset by a dozen experienced adventurers, and then he shook himself and shouted, “HEY! HEY! LEAVE SOME FOR ME DAMMIT!” before pressing a button on his bracer.

The L.U.P.E.’s eyes flashed crimson, the robot rushing forwards towards the mob as the Lich roared in anger, attempting to conjure a hailstorm to assail the combined forces of Avalon and Savage United.

Grimo took careful aim, then pulled the trigger, and a bullet of galvanized rubber shot out and slammed into the eye-socket of the lich! The shot didn't harm him, but the sudden sharp blow knocked him out of casting his spell.

The lich glared at him, “Was that supposed to HURT me little goblin?” it sneered.

“Nope.” replied Grimo, his rifle already aimed at the lich’s ribs. “This is though.” he grunted, the gun's hammer clicking home with a bang, and an aerodynamic metal dart with a compressed red ball on the end shot out of the barrel. The metal object flew into the lich’s ribs, the tip burying itself a good half inch into the bone.

“… a dart? A DART?! I am a Lich! I have ascended to the highest state of undeath! What is a dart supposed to do to me?” it laughed, readying a spell.

Grimo smirked, “Hold the explosive charge in place, that’s what.” he replied.

The lich paused, looking down as he heard a faint hissing, “… uh…” was all the undead mage got out before a massive explosion rocked the glade! Bones rained down across the area, the lich's skull landing several yards away with a thud.

The Dreadlord hadn’t raised a hand however, standing back and assessing the situation. “Hm…” he frowned, “Lich, I fear that the Sire’s estimation of your abilities may have been… overly generous…” spoke the Nathrazeim, gesturing with a claw as a swirl of crimson anima formed a portal to the Shadowlands behind him. “I will inform my master that we should consider other avenues…” he nodded, walking through the portal.

“W-wait! I… I have more I can…” the lich protested as his limbs tried to crawl back towards his ribcage, but Nightpelt rushed forward and grabbed one arm. The undead worg snarled and shook his head as the finger bones snapped free and flew off into the grass.

The other arm almost made it there before Jaie’s foot came down, smashing the forearm bone in half with a loud crack.

The lich swore in fury as Grimo, Jaie, Nelen, and Nitika walked towards him while their allies unleashed the full extent of their abilities on the undead he had gathered.

Galdia had a ghoul by the legs and was spinning in a circle, laughing as the undead monster was used as a bludgeon to smash her way through several more.

Dareley’s blessed sword smote any zombies it touched. Mola’raum’s domination power was forcing the undead to turn on each other, the lich’s minions tearing their former allies limb from limb.

Any undead that tried to flee were stopped by Edwood and Guzzle, the warlock incinerating the area around the ruined village. To flee was to roast.

Sekhi and Zhan-min unleashed a stunning display of elemental chaos on any that escaped the others while Samantha and her partner Annulus dealt with any magic users the lich had managed to rally to his banner.

Anything else had to face Shalandrae, and gods help those that did… the druidess was very eager to put her new stave through a thorough workout, and it was proving a potent weapon indeed. Made as it was from a tree the druidess had planted, it was more akin to an extension of her own body than a separate weapon, and she reveled in how freely she could channel her powers. She was still in the form of a great stone bear, and any Scourge that came near her were left in pieces.

“More?” asked Grimo, “What more? Get talkin’ bonehead.” he demanded, leveling his gun at the disembodied skull.

The two glowing sparks of blue light that marked the lich’s eyes swiveled in their sockets, “… do it. Kill me. I will return to my phylactery, well hidden, and then I will come for your heads!”

Nitika nodded, “He’s right guys, he will.” she warned, “This body is just like a suit of armor for him.”

Nelen frowned, “I can’t sever his connection to the phylactery, that’s his soul. It’s too powerful to break with arcane magic.” he said.

Jaie thought on that, then snapped her fingers, “Then don’t kill him.” she grinned. The others glanced at her as she looked over, “Hey! Mola’raum! Over here!” she waved.

The troll looked up from a pair of ghouls he was forcing to rip each other apart, then shrugged and scattered them with a swing of his spear, ambling over. “Whatcha need Jaie?” he asked the pandaren.

“Am I right in guessing the Ebon Blade has a place to store… dangerous things?” she asked.

Mola’raum nodded, “Ya mon, Acherus got a good storage area. Can’t get inta it unless yer one o’ da Ebon Blade.” he replied.

“Well…” she pointed down at the skull, “If we kill him, he’ll just come back… so what if…” she nodded to the troll.

Mola’raum grinned, “Ho HO! I getcha girlie!” he laughed, reaching down and grabbing the lich’s skull, “We take dis mon’s skull ‘n lock ‘im up in Acherus where he can’t do no more harm!”

“NO! TRATOROUS KNIGHT! RELEASE ME! I COMMAND YOU!” shouted the lich.

“Or what, ya gonna bite me?” sneered Mola’raum as he drew an arch in the air with his spear tip, opening the path to Acherus. “Back inna few bruddahs ‘n sistahs.” he nodded, stepping through it.

As soon as he was through the remaining Scourge suddenly hesitated, then went wild! Half of them tried to flee, burning to ashes in Edwood’s barrier, while the others attacked whatever was closest, including each other! The remaining ones were a leaderless pack of feral monsters, easily routed.

Once the remaining undead were dealt with Grimo surveyed the carnage, sticking a cigar in his mouth, then patting his pockets for something to light it with.

“Allow me.” smirked Edwood as he walked over, snapping his fingers. A spark burst at the end of the cigar, lighting it up bright red.

“Oh, uh, thanks…” grunted the goblin. “So… uh, what do we owe yez?” he asked.

Nelen rolled his eyes, “Grimo, c’mon… not all of us are in this for money.” he smirked.

“Speak for yourself.” teased Samantha as she wiped ichor and bone fragments from her daggers.

Nelen snorted, “Anyways… Nitika told us about how big a scourge force was suspected to be in the area. We think the Horde Council was waiting for confirmation before mobilizing a military response. But… what was that Dreadlord doing here?” he frowned, looking at where the demonic being had vanished.

Grimo started a bit, “Ah shit! I heard ‘em talkin’ right before I got found out! The lich was gonna try ta make some sorta alliance with Denathrius!”

The others all shared expressions of shock and worry at that.

“Denathrius is back? Dammit!” swore Nelen, “That’s… very bad. That’s beyond what we could fight by ourselves. We’d need to warn Turalyon and Baine about that immediately…” he muttered.

Shalandrae nodded in agreement, “If the Sire does have his eyes on Azeroth then that could be a real crisis…”

“Yeah, uh, I dunno. I think we kinda threw a wrench inta this one anyways. That dreadlord told th’ lich he was gonna ‘reconsider’ it first. I dunno if Denathrius is in a spot to do anything against Azeroth yet…” he replied, “Especially now that we took this mook out.” he said.

Mola’raum frowned, “Ya… but da Sire be dangerous mon. He be da one behind what happened wit’ da stuff in Maldraxxus. Garmal ‘n me house gettin’ destroyed ‘n Krexus ‘n Akarat gettin’ assassinated. We dunno how many of ‘is dreadlords be survivin’ too.” he nodded.

Nelen frowned, “Yeah… I have a proposition.” said the Gilnean mage, his fur shedding as he shrank back down to his human form. “Right now the Alliance and Horde aren’t at war, so we can meet up in public. I propose we begin meeting regularly, every few months, in neutral territory like Dalaran or somewhere and just compare notes. See if we can’t spot something before it becomes a problem. If Denathrius really is making ready to return we need to be ready for it… if only to warn the Alliance Leadership and Horde Council so they can bring everything we have to bear against him.” he nodded.

Galdia raised her eyebrow at the worgen, Nightpelt still chewing on the lich’s arm bones. “So… a bar then?” she grinned, “If there’s good drinking I’m all for it!”

“HAH! Girl after mah own heart!” laughed Zhan-min, slapping his belly, “I’m with Galdia! Meetin’ up over drinks, lotsa drinks, every coupla months or so sounds like a great plan.”

Grimo shrugged, “Eh, probably yeah… Alright then Fullmoon. Savage United will keep our ears open. If we hear anything about Denathrius, or anyone as nasty as him, comin’ around we’ll let ya know.” he replied, holding out his hand.

Nelen nodded back, taking the goblin’s hand in his own, “Agreed. Avalon will do likewise. Zovaal’s attack on Azeroth showed everyone there’s far bigger threats than the Horde or Alliance, its time we started working together openly.”

“A formal partnership it is then!” grinned the goblin, “A… business partnership?” he suggested, then winced as he heard the familiar sound of Nitika cracking her knuckles. “Eeeeeeheh… we’ll work out th’ details as we go!” he nodded.

Wars begin because of many things. Resources, irrevocable differences, religious disputes, race, and such… but they end when people from different sides realize just how much of a waste they are and how much they really have in common with their opposite numbers.

After years of working together at a distance, it was time. The Armistice between the Horde and Alliance had yet to be challenged. Plenty of grumbling from some who refused to let old grudges go, but by and large the peoples of the Lion Banner and the Horde Flag had soured on the constant bloodshed.

What started on the day of Deathwing’s defeat had finally become official. Avalon and Savage United. For the Alliance, for the Horde, for Azeroth and all who called it home.

Next Story

Previous Story

[sekhisadventures]

Holiday Traditions

Darkshore, Almost Two Years After the Defeat of Zovaal.

It was winter now, the chill of the north creeping down over Darkshore, bringing with it snow and ice. Amidst the slowly regrowing grove, a young oak stood tall. Its branches were bare now, showing the remains of several birds nests, and inside a large knothole on its bark a squirrel and it’s mate curled around a litter of newly born pups, the tiny creatures wrapped tightly in their tails for warmth.

Some of its branches had come free, including one rather sturdy one, resting on the snow. As the wind swirled a pair of feet crunched their way along the path towards it.

“This is the one?” asked a man’s voice, in the distinctive accent of Dalaran, but with a hint of Gilneas.

“Aye, this was th’ one she planted.” replied a gruff dwarven accented man.

“Hmm… there, that one will do nicely.” commented the first voice.

A few more crunches of snow, then the pair of them left, and the sturdy long branch was no longer there.

Stormwind City, the close of Year 38 AFW, the Feast of Winter’s Veil, about two weeks later

Shalandrae Deeproots was meeting with her people in the refugee camp north of the Dwarven District, offering what succor she could. While her healing had begun, many among her people still lamented their lost home, their dead family and friends, and the bloodshed and horror they had endured at the hands of the Banshee Queen.

The fact that Sylvannas had repented and was still within the depths of the Maw was rather cold comfort to them. While their other allies celebrated the turning of the year and the festival of Greatfather Winter, many of them could only remember those they were not celebrating it with.

A tall elven man sat by a campfire, holding a small saberfang toy in one hand. “I just… she was waiting for me in Darnassus. I was visiting some of our family stationed in Southern Ashenvale that day… I…” he took a deep shuddering breath, “… if I could have just gotten there sooner… my poor Elyssa might…” he choked a bit, clenching his hand tight around the object.

“I know… I was there. There was nothing you could have done…” replied Shalandrae, putting a hand on the man’s shoulder, “The entire city was an inferno, I… was near blind with panic and terror. My friend had to force me to leave, or I would have burned along with it.” she nodded slowly, gazing into the campfire, and for a moment remembering the smell of burning flesh and the terrified screams of the other elves trapped within the flames.

“… I… it just won’t stop hurting…” he whispered, “Its like there’s a hole in my heart that won’t close…”

She thought back to that day at Darkshore after Sekhi’s ritual, then nodded in understanding. “It never stops hurting, not really… you’ll never truly stop wondering if things couldn’t have been different somehow.” she nodded, remembering Dareley’s words that day, his own tale of the fall of Lordaeron City. “All you can do is trust that, in time, it will hurt less. The forest will regrow, even after the worst fire… but…” she shook her head, “It was war, we all lost people we loved… no matter how hard we tried, we couldn’t save everyone…” she sighed, “… all we can do is be glad for those we did save.”

“… but why couldn’t Elyssa have been one of those?” he whispered, staring at the saberfang toy in his hands, meant for a young kal'dorei girl who would never hold it.

Shalandrae shook her head, “There isn’t an answer to that Redriel… I could say that Elune willed it, or that it was bad luck, or fate… but the truth is there is no answer. People died, your daughter was sadly one of them…” she replied, “… we saved as many as we could from the Maw while we were in the Shadowlands, but… we’ll never really know how many were lost.”

“You were there, weren’t you Shalandrae? How… how do you stand it? How can you keep going after that?” he asked, almost pleadingly.

She shrugged, “Good friends who stood by me, who helped me even when grief and madness took me… I’m doing better now but…” she shook her head, “After they got me out of Darnassus and back to Stormwind, I… did some things I’m not proud of.” She thought back to the madness that had overcome her after she’d been returned to Stormwind City, how she’d demanded Nelen help her on a suicidal mission to kill Sylvannas, how she’d almost broken Jaie’s arm with how blind with grief and anger she was. Jaie was a monk. A broken arm could have meant the end of that path for her… and yet… she still stood by Shalandrae even after that. “Even then, it wasn’t until after we got back from the Shadowlands that I was able to find some measure of peace… but… even now it still hurts. I still wake up some nights from nightmares of that day…” she nodded, “Probably will for a very long time.”

“… I… I don’t know if I have anyone left after that, so many of my family and friends died in the fire…” he whispered.

“Like I said Redriel… there really isn’t an answer. It hurts, it always will to some degree, but you just keep going. The alternative is laying down and waiting to die.” she sighed. The truth was some of their fellow kal’dorei had done just that. Many had been screaming for Horde blood afterwards, but some had lost so much of their lives, sometimes even themselves, that… well… she tried not to think about that if she could avoid it.

She looked up as a loud clanging bell came from the far side of the Dwarven District, “Ah, that late already. I should be going…” she stood, then gave his shoulder a squeeze, “Don’t give up Redriel, Elyssa wouldn’t want her father to join her. Not like this.” she nodded, drawing her cloak tight around her body as she began to walk towards Old Town.

As she passed by another knot of Night Elves, she tapped one on the shoulder. A woman in the pale gossamer robes of a priestess of Elune. “Redriel is having a really rough time tonight, keep an eye on him Sataria.” she nodded to the priestess.

She nodded back, giving her a grateful smile. They had lost much of their order when Teldrassil burned and having a druid helping the refugees was a very welcome thing.

Shalandrae trudged through the freshly fallen snow, walking past the Golden Keg. It was closed currently, Thaegra having gone back to Dun Morogh to visit her family for the holiday. Many of the shops were. Some remained open, the grocers and the like. Holiday or not, Stormwind City was a city of a few hundred thousand souls, and they needed to be fed. Otherwise however, many of the shops were closed so that people could spend the closing of the year with their loved ones. She did pass a few familiar faces on the way back to Avalon House, but mostly the streets were empty this time of night. The sheer chill of the weather and the late hour keeping most inside.

She reached the home she shared with her five allies, opening the door and walking in as Dareley stuck his head around the doorway to the dining room. “Ah! There ye are lass! C’mon in! We got somethin’ we wanna show ye!” he grinned, his mustache twitching upwards.

Shalandrae hung her cloak by the door, letting the snow melt off it onto the rug, then slid out of her boots and padded down the hall barefoot. “What is it Dareley?” she asked as she walked in. As soon as she was in she was grabbed one either side by Samantha and Jaie, the two guiding her to a chair at the table and all but pushing her into it. “H-hey! What’s going on?” she asked, sounding confused.

Nelen walked around from the bookcases in back of the room where he kept his reference tomes, carrying something wrapped in a white cloth, a long thin object. He sat down at the table across from her, smiling at the elf. “Well, we all wanted to do something special for you this year. You’ve come a long way since we got back from the Shadowlands, given all that had happened to you. Some of the Highborne I know who frequent the Blue Recluse have been telling me how much you’ve been helping out with the refugees and… well…” he unwrapped the object, “Happy Winter’s Veil Shalandrae.” he nodded.

Sitting on the table was a long wooden staff with a head like a stylized stag, solid metal antlers curling back along it, a pair of glowing yellow gemstones for eyes, wrapped in tanned leather along the shaft, and inscribed with bright golden writing along the stag’s snout.

Shalandrae stared at it with her one good eye. She was a druid. She could feel the power in the object before her. It was no mere stick, it was meant for a druid to use… to heal, to defend, to protect, to preserve… to do so many things.

“We all put a bit into it. Dareley crafted the antlers, they’re solid Phaedrum.” he explained.

Dareley nodded, the dwarf grinning, “Aye, made a special trip ta Ardenweald ta gather some up fer that.”

Nelen chuckled, “The eyes are sunstones.” he nodded, gesturing to the yellow gems set into the staff’s head.

Jaie smiled at her, “They’re from Pandaria. My people use them to make focusing objects for our own magic users.”

Nelen gestured along to the haft of the stave, wrapped in sturdy leather, “Stonehide leather, treated with Leyblood, for the wrappings.” he explained.

“Had to swing by the Broken Isles for that, good thing Dalaran is still over that way for now.” commented Samantha.

“And as for the inscription… well, that was my own touch. Moonglow ink, mixed with vigil’s torch.” he explained. “Bit tricky to do, but with the lacquer I put on it they should last for years.” he nodded… “And then… there’s your contribution.”

Shalandrae paused at this, feeling over the staff, “Wait… me? But… I didn’t…” she trailed off.

Nelen nodded, “You did. This was made from a branch of that tree you planted in Darkshore.” he explained. “Don’t worry, we didn’t harm it. We found a fallen branch from the tree.”

Shalandrae stared at him, then down at the staff, then slowly back up. “This is…” she whispered.

Nelen smiled, “Its been hard for all of us since the Blood War Shalandrae, but for you most of all. You’ve come so far since then, going from chasing after Sylvannas into the Maw to trying to help your people recover from their pain as well. It’s been a long hard journey for you, but we’ve known you for a long time, and… well… you’re finally getting back to how we remember you from before the war. You’re healing, you’re moving on… so, in recognition of this… we present you with this staff, Journey’s End.” he nodded to her, gesturing to the stag-headed tool infront of her.

Slowly, gently, Shalandrae picked up the staff, holding it in her hands. She could feel the echo of her own magic that had infused that acorn in Darkshore two years prior, there was no mistaking it for the druidess… but she could feel the touch of the other members of Avalon as well. Nelen’s knowledge in the markings, Dareley’s deep faith woven into the antlers, Jaie’s compassion and caring in the eyes, and Sam’s cunning in the wrappings. It wasn’t just a spellcaster’s tool, it was a symbol of her bond with all of them, with her friends in Avalon.

She held it to her chest tightly, shaking a bit. “I… everyone… this is…” she sniffed, wiping her good eye as it teared up, a grateful smile on her face, “I can’t even… I put you all through so much… I threatened you, I hurt Jaie, I ran off into the Maw on a suicide mission, I tried to kill Mola’raum… I…” she gasped out.

Dareley nodded, “Aye lass, but we understand. Ye lost so much that ye fell inta despair... but, ye found yer way back.” he smiled, patting her arm. The dwarf was just wearing a tunic and trousers at the moment along with a pair of sturdy boots. No need for armor at home. His hand felt rough on her bare arm, the callouses of years of working a forge and swinging a hammer.

Nelen nodded to her, “You were the one who helped me stay sane during the Cataclysm. Not all druids would willingly face down a furious worgen you know.” he chuckled.

Jaie smiled at her, “You welcomed me to Avalon when I was just some novice fighter who didn’t know which end of the staff was up.” she nodded, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze.

“And you didn’t kill me when my dumb arse made a pass at you when I tried to join… though I suppose being sat on by a giant stone bear might count as attempted crippling…” smirked Sam as Dareley snorted back a laugh and Jaie giggled at the memory of her enrollment in the team.

Shalandrae looked around at the group, smiling with tears in her one eye, perhaps truly smiling for the first time since before Teldrassil’s destruction. “Everyone, I… I don’t have the words… thank you, thank you all for standing by me through all this…” she choked out, her voice shaking as she was overcome with emotion.

Dareley smirked, “Lass, ye saved me bloody life that day we met in Northrend. We’re friends till th’ day they put me in th’ ground, ‘n given what we know about what comes after… even after that.” he grinned at her.

Nelen nodded in agreement, “You’re one of us Shalandrae. Come what may, come what Azeroth can throw at us. You’re a part of Avalon.” he nodded, the other two members grinning back.

She wiped her eye, sniffing a bit, then gently put the staff down on the table before leaning back, taking a deep breath and trying to calm herself… and then the door slammed open, causing them all to jump.

“HEY YA’LL! I’m back!” came the deep country accent of Zhan-min. “Did ya’ll give ‘er th’ magic stick yet?” he asked from the hallway. They could hear some sort of glassy tinkling sound.

Nelen grinned, “Yeah! We did! We’re in the dining room Zhan!” he called back.

The heavyset pandaren man trudged in, setting down a large wooden box with several bottles of ale in it on the table, “Great! Then lets get this party started eh?” he grinned widely, “I got mah stash from where I hid ‘em ta mature. Jaie, how’s supper?” he asked.

Jaie nodded, sniffing at the air, “Hmm, smells like its almost done. I’ll go check!” she smiled, padding out to the kitchen as Zhan-min pulled out six bottles, each one big enough for one person and filled with a deep reddish liquid that seemed to glow from inside.

“This’s mah special Flamebreath Ale. Been savin’ it up fer a while now. Warm ya’ll right up from th’ inside out, just th’ thing fer a winter holiday!” he nodded as he handed around the bottles. Nelen inspected his curiously as Dareley and Sam immediately uncorked their own.

“Oho! I smell peppers, spicy one eh Zhan?” commented Dareley as he grinned at the pandaren.

Zhan-min smirked back, “Mmmhm! Like I said, warm ya’ll right up! Just drink it slow if ya’ll would, I didn’t name it ‘flamebreath’ fer nothin’.” he warned.

At this, Nelen carefully sat his own bottle down… “Huh… well, maybe I’ll just have a little bit then…” he murmured.

Shalandrae put her new staff against the wall behind her chair as Jaie brought in a massive spread of food. Six bowls of pandaren noodles, a selection of spring rolls, sticky rice balls, an entire steamed fish big enough for all six of them, and more. Soon the house echoed with the sound of laughter and eating as the members of Avalon celebrated the turn of the year.

Two years now without a crisis, without a disaster of any sort. No mad cult out to destroy the world, no ancient gods wanting to enslave the planet, no army of the undead out to consume all life… nothing.

Two years for them to simply heal and recover. Two years that Shalandrae had desperately needed.

Meanwhile, in Orgrimmar…

Nitika, Mola’raum, and Grimo crouched behind a wall as a loud metallic stomping sound came from back along the path to the Drag. The taureness gripped her stave as Mola’raum channeled his necromantic power into his spear, Grimo holding his rifle at the ready.

“Grimo, if we survive this, I swear by An’she I’m going to kill you…” she growled angrily.

“Hey! Ain’t my fuckin’ fault that squirt of a mag’har kid asked him fer somethin’ he couldn’t give!” he snapped back.

“Why did ya even build this ting anyway mon?” asked Mola’raum as he peered around the corner, the stomping growing closer.

“… eh, it sounded good on paper.” shrugged the goblin dismissively.

Suddenly there was a loud crash and Mola’raum’s ghoul flew backwards out of the drag, landing in several pieces in the valley of Honor as Sekhi fled past on all fours in her spirit form, which had changed from a raptor to a vulpin. She blamed her time in Ardenweald but wasn’t complaining at all.

“HEADS UP!” she yipped frantically as she darted out of the line of fire, a massive metal hand gripping the wall above the trio of Savage United’s members.

A huge metal head peered around it, a goblin shredder that had been heavily modified, given a coat of festive red paint, and had a huge fake beard covering it’s ‘face.’

“HO… HO… HO…” it intoned in a deep metallic bass. “HAVE… YOU BEEN… [Naughty] OR… BZZT! ERROR 457FB: NICE.DAT NOT FOUND OR FILE CORRUPT… PLEASE REINSERT PUNCH CA- BZZT! ERROR! PUNCH CARD READER NOT RESPONDING! ERROR! ERROR! ALL TARGETS NOW DESIGNATED AS [Naughty]. OUT OF COAL ERROR. DEFAULTING TO SCORCHED EARTH RESPONSE. ERROR!”

About then was when Galdia slammed into it from behind with both feet as Edwood lashed out with a chaos bolt at its arm.

“Right right, fine. The SantaShredder 5000 is a dud invention, one fer the fuckin’ scrapbook. Happy?” snarled Grimo, cocking his rifle, “NOW LETS GO SAVE WINTER’S VEIL! SAVAGE UNITED, ATTAAAAAAAAAACK!” he screamed as Mola’raum and Nitika leapt into action.

We all have our ways of celebrating the holidays. Some people prefer good cheer, good company, and good food, and others…

Nitika blasted away at it with a burst of focused sunlight as Mola’raum summoned a swarm of undead to cling to it. The merry mechanical monstrosity flailed it’s arms, one of which was now covered in felfire, as Grimo blasted away at it screaming, “THE KNEE JOINTS! AIM FER THE KNEE JOINTS! THAT’S WHERE ONE OF MY MONEY SAVERS WENT!”

… well, others prefer fireworks for their holiday celebrations.

Next Story

Previous Story

[sekhisadventures]

The Family Business

Year 38 After First War, One Year After the Defeat of Zovaal, Darkshore

Along the coast, a small sapling stood. It wasn’t as sturdy as the other trees nearby, but it was growing strong, its leaves a bright healthy green on solid branches and its roots going deep into the soil. The remains of a few bird nests dotted its branches from the past spring and there was a small family of rabbits sniffing at the acorns around its roots, eager for something to gnaw their teeth down.

Presently a squirrel was poking at a knothole, hoping to enlarge it in order to make a place to lure a mate and raise some pups.

It had only been there for just barely a year, but it was doing well. In a cleared-out area full of tree stumps showing the marks of goblin shredder blades, this tree was a sign of renewal, of the forest’s regrowth.

Orgrimmar, the Valley of Strength, Vulpera Encampment

An older female vulpera checked their luggage, noting what goods they’d stocked up on and what they could hope to trade. They had a few vulpera handcrafts, some dried foodstuffs, a few sets of tools and other useful things, and of course any vulpera worth their tails could spot and scavenge whatever they thought they could need or sell along the road.

“Alright Risala, the kits are all in the wagon and the goods are secure. I’ve been reviewing the map that I got at the general store, and it seems the roads are pretty clear here. It’s a straight path south of Orgrimmar to Razor Hill, then we'll cross the bridge to the west and head to the Crossroads, then south towards Mulgore.” said an older male vulpera, the mate of the woman Risala.

She grinned back at him, “Its going to be good to be on the road again isn’t it Atu?” she asked, her tail swishing behind her. “I mean, its been lovely having a safe haven in Orgrimmar… no worrying about the Faithless or scorpids or anything like that… but if I stay in the city walls for another month, I swear I’m going to lose my mind…” she chuckled.

Atu smiled and nodded back, padding over to her, and giving her a hug. “Back on the caravan trail again like proper vulpera.” he replied, then chuckled as his wife gave him a quick lick on his cheek fur. The vulpera equivalent of a kiss.

“I do hope we can hire some guards before we go out though… most of ours wound up taking up mercenary work after all.” he frowned a bit, mercenaries were expensive, but while they didn’t have to worry about attacks from Alliance soldiers anymore there was still plenty of dangers out in the wilds of Azeroth.

“Ma! Da!” came a high-pitched voice as the two looked back down the path.

Walking towards them was a young vulpera girl with sandy fur, dressed in a colorful skirt, a red silken wrap top, and a matching headscarf, a colorful and slightly glowing blue backpack resting on her back. Their daughter, the musical shamaness Sekhi. “I found some guards for th' cart while you’re out trading!” she grinned, her tail swishing behind her as two larger figures walked up behind her.

One was a mag’har orc, the vulpera family saw them often as they were right across the valley from the Orgrimmar Barracks where the majority of mag’har lived, refugees from a fallen world in an alternate timeline… though it had quite shocked Atu to learn that the story of their home was in fact quite true.

Another towered over the vulpera, a massive tauren woman with sandy brown fur decorated with white and yellow dyes to make colorful patterns depicting a stylized eagle, yellow flowers woven into her mane as well.

“Oh! Um, well…” started Risala, the vulpera padding up to Sekhi and leaning in, “Sekhi, these two are clearly very experienced mercenaries… we don’t have that much coin…” she whispered.

Sekhi just grinned back, “They don’t want any!” she giggled as both Atu and Risala looked at their daughter in shock. A mercenary who didn’t want money?! That was like a kobold who didn’t give a damn about candles!

The taureness spoke up, chuckling, “We haven’t been introduced… we’re Sekhi’s friends, teammates really.” she explained, “My name is Nitika Dawnhoof, seer of An’she, and this is Galdia Grimaxe of the Warsong Clan. We’re part of Savage United, the group Sekhi joined when you first arrived in Orgrimmar.” she nodded to the pair.

Galdia grinned, “Yeah, and things are kinda boring right now. Most of the bigshots in the Scourge are all the way dead or in hiding so the merc contracts are drying up… so Grimo decided to close up the shop for a bit and let us do what we want.” she nodded, then shrugged, “I mean, not that he could STOP us from doin’ what we wanted but, yanno…”

Atu looked up at the two huge women, “I-I see… um… but you really aren’t asking for pay?” he asked, cocking his head in confusion.

Galdia nodded, “Eh, I mean, it buys the beer ‘n all… but I kinda owe Sekhi for a few things. Besides, an orc stands by their shaman.” she nodded firmly.

“… and Sekhi said you were going to Mulgore, my homeland. I’ve been wanting to visit anyways.” added Nitika, “So since we’re going the same way I don’t mind travelling with you.”

Risala nodded slowly, “W-well then, um, thank you! I’m sure two adventurers like you will be more than enou-…” she started, but Sekhi piped up.

“THREE adventurers Ma!” she yipped, grinning widely, “Imma member of Savage United too, remember? I’ve fought loads of nasty stuffs in th' Shadowlands!”

Atu paused at that, then cocked his head, “… true… you did tell us about all that.” he muttered. She had at length, whether they wanted her to or not, chattered on excitedly about the adventures she and her friends in both Savage United and Avalon had in the Shadowlands… but she hadn’t told them everything. The attack on Ardenweald, her stint in the Maw, and Dissonantia’s betrayal she had the foresight to leave out.

“Well… um… its very nice to meet you both.” chuckled Risala a bit awkwardly, “My name is Risala, and this is my mate Atu. We have three other kits besides Sekhi; Leza is her younger sister and Zato and Eeda are our youngest, twin kits boy and girl.” she said, “They’re in the cart now, but I’m sure you’ll get to know each other on the road. We should leave while it’s still early.” she nodded as Atu went to hitch up their alpaca to the cart.

Within the hour the vulpera wagon was trundling through the gates of Orgrimmar southward towards Razor Hill. On either side of it were Galdia and Nitika, the former astride her undead worg Nightpelt and the latter hovering a bit of the ground as she lounged on a handwoven flying carpet she had crafted and enchanted herself.

Several days later

The wagon had made camp for the night a way past the border between Durotar and the Barrens, on the Barrens side. They were in the shadow of one of the larger mountains there, the wagon parked close to the mountain wall and the alpaca hitched to a tree nearby to keep them from wandering off.

A large campfire was burning as Nitika sat with the vulpera, Sekhi playing her flute as her middle sibling Leza read a book she’d gotten off a sin’dorei trader by the firelight. The twins however were peppering the tauren with questions.

“Where’d ya get those marks on ya back?” yipped Zato, the vulpera boy clad in only a pair of shorts, leaving his sandy torso bare.

“What do those thingies on ya mean? Are they special or do they just look neat?” giggled Eeda, the vulpera child wagging excitedly. She had on shorts and a wrap like Sekhi’s, looking very much like her sister in miniature. The younger vulpera were about the size of large cats really. Nitika was massive to them.

“Are ya really able ta hear th' Sun’s voice?” chittered Zato, “Sekhi can hear all sorts of crazy stuffs! She says the elements play music for her all the time but I never hear it!”

Nitika laughed, “Alright ALRIGHT! One at a time…” she smiled a bit, bemused by the exciteable children. “Okay, so… I don’t really hear An’she speaking to me directly. Its more… a sort of feeling or intuition. I just sort of know what he wants sometimes.” she nodded, “And the warpaint patterns are supposed to resemble an eagle, which is An’she’s sacred animal.” she added, “As for these…” she felt over her back, then glanced back at the vulpera kits.

She remembered what they’d rescued them from in Vol’dun, and what the Faithless wanted to do, “… well… lets just say that sometimes mercenary work can be very dangerous and not all enemies leave normal scars.” she replied. She didn’t want to give the kids nightmares by recounting the story of her attack from the Sha in Pandaria.

“(Wuss.)” came a voice in her mind, the tauren rolling her eyes. “(What? Kids love ghost stories, you should just tell them. Its not like they won’t find out about me eventually…)” chuckled the voice of Nitika Darkhoof, her darker self.

Nitika sighed, then thought back, “(They’re really little Darkhoof. I don’t want to scare them. They’ve seen what the void can do back in Vol’dun. Lets just keep a lid on that power unless we need it.)” she replied in her mind.

“Nitika? Are you alright?” asked Risala, cocking her head at the tauren.

Nitika blinked, “Oh! Um, sorry, just hungry. I hope Galdia gets back from hunting soon.” she replied… and as if on cue they heard the loud stomping of the orc woman as she walked into the circle of firelight and slammed down a huge boar bigger than any of the vulpera present.

“How’s THAT for dinner, eh? Can’t get fresher pork than this!” she laughed, pulling a knife out of her belt. “Sekhi, come gimme a hand, let’s get this thing grillin’!”

The vulpera all sat up and eyed the boar hungrily. They were carnivores first and foremost, and fresh bacon sounded absolutely delightful to them… but while the vulpera and the mag’har weren’t native to Kalimdor, Nitika was, and she stood up and looked around.

“Galdia, where did you find that boar?” she asked.

Galdia looked up at her, “Ehhh… a ways south of here. I saw some others in the bushes even bigger than this one, but they took off once I got close. Why?” she asked.

“That’s… not a normal boar. That’s a battleboar, the kind the quillboar raise.” replied the tauren, peering out into the darkness… then she blinked, her eyes turning purple. She was standing fully upright, so none of the vulpera could see that, but Galdia raised her eyebrow at her.

“Hang on, that’s those pig-men you told me about…” she frowned, standing herself and looking back the way she came.

That was when Nightpelt began to growl, staring into the darkness.

Sekhi yipped and stuffed her flute away, taking out the harp she used as a spell focus to commune with fire as Nitika picked up her eagle-headed staff and stepped around the campfire they'd set up, standing with the other two members of Savage United. Galdia’s sword was already in her hands.

From behind them came a snuffling, snorting sound. It came from several directions, and they could hear hoof-like feet on the hard packed earth of the Barrens.

“Atu, Risala… get your family inside the wagon. Now.” warned Nitika, though her voice felt different. It was the same voice, but a lot… firmer. As if this one was less concerned with niceties.

As the vulpera parents stood, the quillboar charged!

Sekhi threw an object from her pack, a carved wooden vulpera statuette landing amid the advancing quillboars. Suddenly the ground under their feet turned soft and loamy, the pig men stumbling and slowing as their hooves couldn’t find traction on the mud-like dirt!

As they did Nitika lashed out not with sunlight, but with a blast of dark psychic energy, slamming into the mind of the lead boar! He went down drooling, his eyes rolling in their sockets as his thought patterns twisted into chaotic spirals.

“Looks like we get a LOT of bacon! LETS GO NIGHTPELT!” laughed Galdia as she and her worg charged as Sekhi readied her harp and strummed her fingers across the strings, the flames from the campfire suddenly shooting upwards and lighting up the area, revealing a good eight quillboar remaining upright.

A Thornweaver, a quillboar who practiced geomancy to grow and shape massive thorny vines to make up their Krauls, the lairs that quillboar lived in, squealed in defiance. “KILL THEM! THE BARRENS BELONGS TO THE QUILLBOAR!” it snorted in fury, thrusting it’s hands out as thorn-covered vines erupted from the ground and lashed forward.

Galdia’s sword was a blur of pandaren steel, the first vine landing in pieces as she shoulder-checked one of their warriors to the ground and slammed her sword home into his neck, another going down under Nightpelt as the worg’s fangs tore it’s windpipe open.

The other vine almost reached the cart, but Sekhi’s fingers worked along the strings of her harp and the flames from the campfire arced out and blazed bright enough to light the whole area… and a charred and hardened vine slammed down into the ground, crackling with fire.

Nitika surged forward, the woman’s body seeming to merge with the dark of the night as she almost glided out into the mass of quillboar, “Everyone! Cover your ears!” she shouted to her allies.

Sekhi and Galdia didn’t hesitate, they slammed their hands over their ears. They’d seen Nitika do this before.

The tauren took a deep breath, the shadows of the night wrapping around her form as she became a mass of writhing darkness, and then she screamed in Shath’yar… the language of the Void. Her voice echoed far louder than it should have, and both Sekhi and Galdia winced visibly as they heard her. Nitika's voice sounded wrong, like a vast swarm of insects all shouting and cursing at once in a language that reached past their minds and into their very instincts.

None of them understood what she said, not even the quillboar, but her words thundered into their ears. Nitika's void powered scream found every deep-seated fear, every anxiety, every nightmare they’d ever experienced, and slammed onto them with both fists.

A terrified squeal went up from the remaining quillboar, and most of them scattered, flailing and sobbing into the night. To them Nitika was no longer a tauren, their age-old enemy. She was a walking horror, a manifestation of the power of the dreaded Old Gods, and she would leave the ones that fled waking up in a cold sweat for the next month.

Two remained, the Thornweaver and one of their warriors. They had reacted fast enough when Nitika said to cover their ears and as the warrior prepared to retaliate in spite of what had happened a sudden sharp whistle came from behind the mass of darkness that was Nitika, and a bolt of lightning blew him off his feet with a loud cry of pain.

The other quillboar turned to face them, only for a tendril of darkness to lash around it’s throat and lift it off its hooves until it’s eyes were level with… well… lets call it Nitika’s head. Currently she didn’t look much like a tauren, more like a tauren-shaped cloud of shadows.

“Go, run away now. Tell your friends, any vulpera carts along the barrens roads are OFF LIMITS. If you attack one, we will find out and we will come back, and next time we will NOT show mercy.” whispered Nitika Darkhoof.

The quillboar snorted, but they were nothing if not stubborn, “Filthy tauren… your tricks won’t work on me! This land is quillboar land, any tresspassers will die!” it spat as the warrior struggled to his feet, electricity still sparking off his body.

Darkhoof glanced back at the caravan, then focused, and a miasma of shadow spread out behind her to obscure the view from the cart as she looked to the other quillboar.

She snapped her fingers, her eyes glowing a deep bright violet in the gloom.

The warrior went rigid, his eyes glowing the same, and he picked up his weapon. A large axe made from scrap metal pillaged from caravans heading to the Crossroads.

Without a word, he pressed it to his throat, then kept on pressing as blood ran down his neck and soaked his chest, then finally he fell forward onto the dirt. He didn’t even so much as whisper the entire time.

Nitika looked back to the Thornspeaker, “… well?” she hissed.

The quillboar magician whimpered, “… s-servant of the Old Ones…” it stammered. He knew the warrior well, he knew him as a strong and powerful fighter and to see him commit suicide like that without a single flicker of thought or emotion… well… the Thornspeaker was listening now.

"Not quite, but close enough.” she dropped him with a thud, then raised her hands, tendrils of darkness swirling around them, "GO! RUN AWAY LITTLE BOAR! RUN AWAY AND DO NOT COME BACK!” she commanded.

The Thornspeaker turned and fled wordlessly and she knew he wouldn’t stop until he reached their Kraul. With any luck he’d tell them exactly what she said. Vulpera carts were off limits, or else.

Slowly she descended to the ground and willed herself back into her normal form. The power of the void slowly bled off back into the realm it came from, merging with the darkness of the night until she stood there, same as always… “There, I hid the sight from the kids. They just saw darkness and nothing else. Happy?” she muttered.

“(No… but the quillboar won’t take a hint unless you throw it at them.)” grumbled Dawnhoof’s voice in her head.

“Deal with it Sunny.” she muttered, then turned and snapped her fingers. The shadowy cloud was blown away on an invisible breeze, the taureness striding forwards into the circle of firelight as Sekhi and Galdia watched her.

The orc was a bit disappointed she only got to take down one, but Sekhi was looking a bit nervously at Nitika. She knew that Darkhoof was less likely to hold back, but the song had sounded very… well… she was definitely glad it was Nitika and that she knew she’d come back from that.

Atu watched Nitika come back in and stared at her, “Er… are they gone?” he asked.

Nitika nodded, and when she sat down in the firelight her eyes were yellow once more. “Yes. Sorry about that Atu, but quillboar are very stubborn. If you don’t go all out they’ll keep coming.” she nodded, glancing towards the trio of children who had, of course, snuck out of the cart to watch as soon as they could.

However… Sekhi hadn’t really used her shamanism magic much before leaving Vol’dun. She’d guided Kiro and the others by listening to Azeroth’s Song, but otherwise she’d left the fighting to the other vulpera. So this was the first time her family had actually seen that…

“YA SHOT LIGHTNING!” chittered Zato excitedly, his tail a blur as he looked up at his big sister.

“How’d ya make th' fire do that?! Was it th' harp?!”  asked Eeda, grinning widely at her.

Sekhi yipped a bit at their prodding, “U-uh, y-yeah, um… see fire always sounds like stuff like harps ‘n guitars ‘n stuffs to me, so if I’m using one it makes it easier to talk to it 'n get it to help me how I want ‘n…” she glanced between the twins. They’d never been this wound up about her shamanism before.

Galdia laughed, “That’s nothin’! You shoulda seen her in Ardenweald!” she grinned at the kids, flopping down next to the boar and slicing it open as if the battle hadn’t even happened. “The place fell under siege right, ‘n Sylvannas was there too, ‘n there were hundreds of these Mawsworn things. Monsters made of metal ‘n tortured souls ‘n shit… and we’re all fighting them… and then suddenly Sekhi just makes this gigantic sandstorm! Tore half of ‘em to bits and the others had to run away! Wrecked the entire battlefield! She drove off the whole army by herself!”

Atu and Risala stared at Sekhi, then at Galdia, then both of them looked to Nitika.

“She’s telling the truth. I was right next to Sekhi when she did that.” confirmed the taureness.

Five vulpera heads turned to Sekhi…

“YOU DID WHAT?!” yipped Risala in shock.

“A whole army?!” shouted her father, “Sekhi, you didn’t tell us THIS part!”

“Noooooo waaaaaaay!” squealed Eeda, “Show us!” she grinned eagerly.

“I wanna see it! I wanna see th' sandstorm!” cheered Zato.

Sekhi looked around, her ears flat against her head. She wasn’t used to being the center of attention and it was making her rather uncomfortable, “I-I… um… I can’t just do it whenever I wanna! Th' elements were doing it through me! I don’t even remember it!” she whined. She had left out the story of the attack on Ardenweald on purpose, she knew her parents would react this way.

“Are they really tellin’ the truth Sekhi?” asked Leza, the bookish vulpera a bit more knowledgeable than her siblings.

“Hey! You callin’ me a liar?!” snapped Galdia, “I saw the whole thing while I was beating a Mawsworn to death with another’s leg! Whole area is one big battlefield, then I hear Sekhi shout ‘go away’ or something, look up at the path where she’s standing, and BOOM! Huge cloud of desert sand, wind tearing the damn trees up, and this whole mess of vulpera ghosts raising fel all over the place!” she nodded firmly, slamming her skinning knife into the side of the boar with a loud wet sound. “I ain’t no damn liar!”

Leza eeped and ducked behind her mother as Nitika smacked Galdia’s shoulder in an annoyed way. “Galdia! She’s a kid!” she snapped.

Galdia grunted, “Well, I ain’t lyin’! Sekhi did that! Probably would’ve done it when Dissonantia tried to ki-MMPGH!” she began, her words cut off as a tauren hand slammed over her face and Nitika whispered into her ear.

“Galdia. Stop. NOW.” she hissed.

Atu and Risala were staring at the orc woman, their faces showing serious concern. They knew that Sekhi would wind up in harm’s way being a mercenary with Savage United, they didn’t know that she’d wind up in literal battlefields with a whole army to contend with.

Nitika chuckled nervously, “Er… s-so, Sekhi…  wanna give Galdia a hand with the boar?” she asked.

“YES!” yelped Sekhi, the vulpera fleeing her siblings and diving behind Galdia, almost hiding behind the orc as the beast was slaughtered and cleaned for dinner.

Nitika glanced around, “Sooooo, um, kids… who wants to hear a story about where I wound up I the Shadowlands?” she asked, then before they could stop her she began to describe Bastion, Elysian Hold, and the work she did there with Dareley.

Thankfully, the twins were very easily distracted.

“They had wings? Like birds?” chittered Eeda curiously.

“Yep, huge feathery ones! In fact, I wound up with a pair too! But they disappeared when we came back to Azeroth. I think they only exist when I’m in the Shadowlands.” continued Nitika.

“'n they show up for everyone who dies?” asked her brother.

“Mmhm, to take them to the Shadowlands. In fact, they might even be gathering up those quillboar now.” she replied.

Nitika glanced over towards where they’d fought, and blinked as her eyes went purple, then smirked.

She wasn’t a necromancer like Mola’raum. She couldn’t really see the dead but she knew how to sense the anima of Bastion now and she was pretty sure she saw a familiar blue-skinned woman in golden armor waving to her before flying off, holding the hand of a rather annoyed looking quillboar.

Two weeks later, Camp Narache, Mulgore

The cart was parked near the camp and Atu was unloading the goods they had for trade, several curious tauren coming over. Not everyone could make the trek to Orgrimmar, but most had heard of these new allies that the leaders of the Horde had recruited.

A bit away from the cart however, Risala was having a very pointed discussion with Nitika, Sekhi, and Galdia now that they were off the road. Despite being smaller than two of them, the vulpera woman was asking some rather uncomfortable questions… and no attempts to deflect or defuse by Nitika were working.

The tauren woman sighed, “… and so Dissonantia betrayed and tried to kill us, and… well… she almost got Sekhi, but she was rescued by one of our new allies in the Alliance. He’s a pandaren named Zhan-min and he caught her after Dissonantia’s demon threw Sekhi off the cliff we were fighting on…” she said, the vulpera mother staring daggers at her.

“When Sekhi took off to join this ‘Savage United’ thing she’d heard about I thought she’d just be doing hunting, driving out bandits, and the like… but entire armies, trips into some sort of horrible ‘Maw’ place, and now you’re telling me a murderous warlock has her sights on my daughter?!” she hissed angrily.

Sekhi whined, looking rather awkward to say the least. “This is why I didn’t wanna tell ya Ma…” she chittered. “I just… yeah, things just kinda got nuts after we got to th' Shadowlands 'n all I could do was try to keep up with th' others.”

“Sekhi… I just don’t know if you should stay with this mercenary thing after this. I mean… yes you’re a shaman, but… you’re lucky to be alive after all that!” she shook her head, “I should go find this Grimo and tell him you’re quitting. You can just come back to the caravan with us.” she nodded.

Galdia snorted, “Yeah, bad idea. Dissonantia ain’t gonna give up on Sekhi just ‘cause she quits.” she retorted.

Nitika frowned at the orc’s bluntness, then said, “She could be gentler about it, but I’m afraid Galdia is right Risala. Dissonantia wants all of us out of the picture now because we know who and what she is… and that includes Sekhi. She’ll come after her no matter what, and its best if she stays with Savage United now. I mean…” she gestured to the cart, “Would you rather know Sekhi is with five experienced mercenaries when Dissonantia returns, or with two vulpera traders and their three kids?”

“Are you saying I can’t protect my daughter?” asked Risala, her hackles raising.

“(Right, lemme handle this Sunny.)” echoed a voice in Nitika’s head, then her eyes went purple, “Okay, yeah. I am saying that.” she said. “Dissonantia isn’t just some bandit Risala. She’s a powerful demon summoning warlock. It took all of Savage United AND Avalon to drive her off in Zereth Mortis and one of us wound up dead because of her. He was an Illidari, you know those elves with the horns and tattoos? The ones that tear apart the training dummies in the Valley of Strength with their bare hands? She got HIM.” she nodded, though she didn’t tell her that it was actually Mola’raum and Shalandrae who killed Merihim… though they did it because Dissonantia unleashed the demon inside him and allowed it to control him, so it was still her fault.

Galdia nodded, “Besides, we need her. She’s our shaman, a clan ain’t worth shit without a good shaman.” she grunted. “Look, you saw what we did to those quillboar on the path through the Barrens. You think we’d just let Dissonantia kill her?” she smirked, flexing her muscles.

Risala sighed, “When you put it like that… I…” she shook her head, “Just… Sekhi… I don’t want to think about something happening to you.” she chittered, looking at her. “We barely made it out of Vol’dun when the Faithless attacked, it’s a miracle the six of us survived…”

Sekhi whined, “Ma! Its okay… I’m not a kit anymore, ‘n all my friends are really strong.” she nodded, padding up to her and giving the older woman a hug, “I… I trust ‘em. Dissonantia is really really really scary, but I trust Nitika ‘n Galdia ‘n all th' other friends we got.”

Risala hesitated, then returned the hug, “I… a-alright… I guess they did make a good point. I’d rather know you’ve got someone who can fight at your side if that woman shows up… just… be careful, okay?” she asked.

Sekhi smiled back and nodded, then the two looked up as Atu called back, “Hey! Gettin’ a crowd! I could use a paw over here girls!” he said.

Sekhi nodded to her mom, then grinned a bit at Nitika and Galdia, “Um… so, yeah, gotta go do stuffs!” she yipped, then padded off to the cart as the villagers of Camp Narache discussed goods, haggled, offered trades of materials and other goods, and the like. Vulpera were caravanners at heart by and large, though there were exceptions.

After they closed up for the night Atu and Risala would have a long talk, and then Sekhi’s father would agree that she was likely safest with Savage Untied at least until Dissonantia’s defeat. Even then however, Sekhi was right.

She wasn’t a kit anymore. She was barely seventeen when she’d joined Savage United, but as crazy as it was to believe that was four years ago already. Sekhi was twenty-one summers old now, a woman grown (though for a given value of grown but, then, Vulpera never got very big.)

All kits had to leave eventually, but that didn’t mean their parents didn’t fear for them… but Risala had to admit that seeing how easily the three had dispatched the quillboars had helped sway her. If someone was out to get her daughter, all she could do was trust that Sekhi and her friends were a match for them. But, well, mothers never truly stop worrying, even then.

Next Story

Previous Story

[sekhisadventures]

New Finds, Old Friends

The Hall of Explorers, Ironforge Mountain, Six Months after the defeat of Zovaal

Three figures strode towards the Hall in the center of the cavern, the huge building being a combination museum, library, and headquarters to the Explorer’s League.

The Explorer’s League was headed by one of the three Bronzebeard brothers, Brann Bronzebeard, of the royal line of Ironforge. The other two brothers were Magni and Muradin. Muradin was currently working in governance of the city in the Council of Three Hammers alongside his niece, Moyra Thassaurian, and the High Thane of the Wildhammer Clan, Falstad Wildhammer. Their other brother, Magni Bronzebeard, was absent from the mountain… but that was a tale for another time.

The trio reached the entrance to the hall together, each of them carrying several objects carefully packed into soft cloth bags. Nelen Fullmoon, member of the Explorer’s League and trained archaeologist was one of them. He’d picked up Archaeology after the Cataclysm had died down as a way to try to help distract himself from the constant urges to become a feral monster that the worgen curse had given him. Once Jaie had helped him reconcile with his bestial side by introducing him to Yu-lon he’d even tracked down an artifact for her, the Spear of Xuen, and carefully restored it for her use out of gratitude for her help.

Dareley Steelhammer was next, the dwarven paladin quite happy to be back home in the mountain. He’d come to say hello to Brann, the two of them having worked together to help stop the threat of Yogg’sauron at Uldum during the Northrend Campaign. He hadn’t been part of the force that had fought the dreaded Old God himself, but he and Shalandrae had been with the vanguard that ensured the corrupted titan machines hadn’t escaped Uldum and run amok.

Lastly, to Dareley’s surprise, Samantha Montebank had accompanied them. He’d asked her why she wanted to come to Ironforge, and she’d just smiled and said, “I wanted to see an old friend of mine. Don’t worry about it.”

They were greeted by one of the caretakers of the library, then ushered in back where Brann’s office was. The dwarf would plan expeditions here, gather resources, arrange for transport and goods… really he couldn’t stand it, but he wanted expeditions to succeed and that meant someone had to handle the logistics. Brann sighed, looking up from a list of resources still needed for an upcoming survey of Ulduar, then grinned as he saw them coming in. “AH! Finally! When ah got yer letter I could hardly believe it. Ye say ye brought back somethin’ really special this time? Somethin’ from th’ Shadowlands itself that’s tied ta dwarves ‘n th’ titans?” he asked, looking at Nelen.

Nelen grinned at Dareley and Sam, then the three of them sat down their bags and opened them up to reveal several artifacts… from Zereth Mortis. “More than that, these are relics of a race of beings called The First Ones… and we think they may have been the progenitors of the Titans themselves.” he explained.

The dwarf’s eyes widened as he beheld several parts of Automata, a cypher wheel, and a few tools that had been used by the Zereth’s caretakers. “We couldn’t take much, really they weren’t happy about us taking these few things… but yeah.” nodded the magus. “These all came from a realm where, if rumors are to be believed, the Shadowlands were forged and created… and apparently there’s a Zereth in every plane of reality. These ‘First Ones’ created the Eternal Ones of the Shadowlands, the rulers of that realm, and if that’s the case then that implies that they also made the Realm of Order and the Titans as well.”

Brann chuckled, feeling gently over one of the Automata arms, “Bloody freakin’ fel… th’ find of the century or I’m a damned kobold…” he whispered, looking up, “Ye say these things made th’ Titans ‘n these… Eternal Ones? How’d ye figure?” he asked.

Nelen opened his mouth, but Sam rolled her eyes, “Hoo boy, that’s my cue to go. Sorry Professor, not sitting in on the lecture today.” she smirked, “I’m going to go take in the city. You boys have fun with your toys.” she grinned, walking back out of the office.

Nelen shrugged, “Eh, she already knows most of it, so that’s fair.” he replied, “Anyways…” he began, then he told Brann of what they found in the Sepulcher of the First Ones when fighting back Zovaal. The artificial bodies, the prototype pantheon, and what they implied… that the Eternals, and quite possibly the Titans, maybe even the Naaru and the Void Lords, were not born but made by these beings.

Brann fished out a notebook and scribbled furiously, taking down everything Nelen could remember of the land of Zereth Mortis, the mage reaching into his own bag and removing several thick packets of notes he’d made there himself, handing them over as well.

“This is… astounding lad. All this time we were tryin’ ta find our origins with th’ Titans… it never even occurred ta me that they could just be one more link in th’ chain!” he whispered, flipping through the notes.

“Indeed… though I did hear some of our fellow adventurers were rather disturbed when they found out that these godlike beings could just be robots…” he sighed.

Brann paused, looking up at him, “Aye, cannae pretend it don’t sound really strange… but we dwarves were made o’ rock ‘n stone once upon a time, ‘n even our gnomish friends were as robotic as their creations are now.” he smirked.

Nelen nodded, “Yeah, and I have a theory about those things too…” he murmured, “During our time there one of the Eternal Ones, a being known as The Arbiter, was destroyed by our adversary Zovaal… and… well, myself and a couple of our allies were present when the beings of Zereth Mortis attempted to create a new Arbiter to take their place. Apparently, those vessels are filled with Ancient Souls of some sort… which makes me wonder...” he scratched at his beard thoughtfully, “… what would the beings of Zereth Mortis consider more ancient than their creators?” he suggested.

Brann looked up at him, “You mean ta say…” he murmured.

“I think… those ancient souls may well be the First Ones… or perhaps… fragments of them.” he nodded. “This is just a theory of course Brann, but… what if the First Ones are so far beyond us that they have to create artificial bodies just to interact with our reality as we know it? Like… their existence is so advanced compared to ours that we wouldn’t even be able to perceive them otherwise? I think… and again, this is just a theory, that those bodies are vessels for fragments of the consciousness of the First Ones, so they can exist in a way we can interact with.” he nodded.

Dareley smirked, “He’s been talkin’ nonstop ‘bout this fer weeks now…” he chuckled.

Bran smirked back, “Aye, well it be a fascinatin’ subject Steelhammer!” he laughed, “Aye, it’s a sound enough theory given what ye’ve found out about ‘em… but we’d need more evidence ta be certain.” he pointed out.

Nelen sighed, “Yeah, and that’s where I hit a wall. The Oracles of Zereth Mortis flat out refused to clarify anything about the nature of the ancient souls in their keeping.” he frowned, “Still… it implies that there are other Zereths out there, perhaps even in our reality somewhere…” he nodded, “… I wonder where though…” he mused aloud.

Brann grinned, “Well, maybe we’ll find out someday lad. Fer now, I’ve got work ta do cataloguing these finds! If ye wanna gimme a hand we can see ‘bout drinks afterwards eh?” he nodded.

Dareley smiled widely at that, “Now there’s a bloody good idea!” he grinned.

The Forlorn Cavern

Hulfdan Blackbeard sat at his table, tallying the day’s… well… ‘takings’ would be the most appropriate word. He was older now, his black beard starting to show the barest hints of grey in it, but he could still cut your ear off ‘n feed it to you see if he don’t.

He paused in the middle of stacking coins… his hand slowly going for a dagger resting on his table, then a voice said, “What, no warm welcome for your tall friend?” in a bemused tone.

The dwarf heard the voice, registered the accent and sound, then grunted, “Ain’t got nae elf friends fer a long time now…” he muttered, “… ‘n th’ one ah had wasn’t a lass.”

His eyes darted this way and that, but he didn’t see anyone in his room save for himself…

“Well, things change…” came the voice again.

Hulfdan decided to stop taking chances. He leapt up and snatched at the dagger…

… at where the dagger should have been…

The dwarf started, then slapped his hip for his blade in its sheath…

… which was empty…

“Getting sloppy Hulfdan. If I’d tried this running with your gang you’d have seen to it I could only count to eight for the rest of my life.” came the voice once more.

Hulfdan glanced around, “… Montebank?” he asked in disbelief.

From just behind his ear came the faintest of whispers, “… surprise.”

The dwarf spun, arm out and ready to grab and throttle, and his hand snatched a neck…

… on a bottle of Thunderbrew’s finest ale, the dwarf looking at it in surprise and stopping himself from throwing it by sheer force of will. No self-respecting dwarf, rogue or not, would dare desecrate a full bottle of Thunderbrew.

Sam was leaning against the wall, idly testing the blade on Hulfdan’s sword, “Ooch!” she winced, licking her thumb, “Still keeping the edge properly though. I remember the earful you gave me when I let my daggers go dull. Had me sharpening them all night, and everyone else’s too.” she grinned.

Hulfdan’s eyebrows went up, “I’ve heard o’ people changin’ their identity after a good heist… but that’s a bit much…” he said, looking over Samantha’s body.

When he’d last seen her, she was a sin’dorei, a normal blood elf.

She was also… to be blunt… male last time he’d seen her.

“Lets just say I made a new business partner, and we had quite the experience together in the Shadowlands.” she grinned, “So, what do you say squat, dark, and handsome? Share a drink with an elven lass?”

Hulfdan looked at the bottle he was holding, then at her, then he smirked and reached into his drawer, pulling out two mugs.

Several drinks later…

“Umbric? You broke inta Stormwind Castle ‘n tried ta snatch somethin’ out from under Matthias Shaw’s nose?” he laughed, “Lass you’re lucky ya ain’t rottin’ in th’ bloody Stockade after pullin’ a stunt like that!” he grinned, “Though… knowin’ ol’ Shaw he may well ‘ave tried ta recruit ya.”

“Yeah well, this was right on the heels of me nicking Titanstrike from Trueshot Lodge… it was NOT easy finding the right alchemy to hide my scent from all those animals there, and some of the hunters, and I guess I got cocky.” she smirked, “But yeah, what I thought was going to be Azerite or something turned out to be the core of this void creature called Annulus… and… well…” she gestured to herself, “Boom!”

Hulfdan nodded, “… ‘n this Annulus turned ye into a lady?” he asked, raising his eyebrow.

“Yes, actually…” she nodded, taking a pull from her mug, “… that came later though. At first she just took up residence in here and made me into one of the ren’dorei.” she replied, tapping her temple with her fingertip. “After I teamed up with this adventurer team, Avalon, and we went to the Shadowlands… well… that’s where all this happened.” she gestured to her chest and hips. “Annulus and I got talking and… well… turns out that I was in denial about a few things, so… she helped me out there.” she smirked, “It did come with a few catches though, I didn’t have these before.” she said, idly twining one of her tentacles around her finger. They had started out small, peeking out of her hair, but were now long and down to her shoulders. Sam wasn’t entirely sure how she felt about that.

Hulfdan nodded, “Hmm… Avalon eh? Heard ‘bout ‘em… not a ton mind, the smaller groups never get th’ attention the big guilds do… but mostly what I’ve heard is good. Though… a few o’ our local… not-so-friendly magic types have been whisperin’ bout one o’ their former members goin’ rogue.” he said, raising an eyebrow.

Samantha blew out her lips, “Jeez, guess warlocks have a good information network… must be the imps. Yeah. She did, tried to kill all of us… She almost did get one of us and another… we had to deal with after what she did to him, but we managed to drive her off… of course, that means we just made her run away. She’s still out there…” she frowned.

Hulfdan nodded, “Aye… ‘n now yer waitin’ fer th’ other boot ta drop…” he leaned back in his chair, “… hmm… seems ye ‘n yer new team are in a right pickle eh lass… well cannae ask ye ta come back… I mean if an elf in Ironforge stood out afore, a void elf… well, ye spooky types ain’t exactly a copper a dozen.” he nodded, “But… I can have th’ lads keep our ears ta the ground, feel out th’ mine… if we hear rumblin’s bout… oh… dogs barkin’ in th’ dark… we can send ya a little whistle.”

Sam grinned, “Knew I could count on you. Yeah, life has been going really good for me with Avalon… and I want to keep it going that way. Dissonantia is a real threat though, not just to us… you tell the lads, don’t try to tangle with her. We’re thieves, we gut people if we need to, but we don’t use a dagger where quick fingers and lockpicks will do.” she nodded, “… Dissonantia will. She’ll use a dagger, a fireball, an axe, a whip, and all sorts of nasty things. Now that we know about her she has no reason to hold back, and if she does get one of the crew… well, the term ‘fate worse than death’ definitely applies here.”

Hulfdan nodded slowly, “Aye… ye were a snarky lil’ bastard before Montebank, but ye was never one ta lie ta yer mates. I’ll tell the lads ta keep a canary out ‘n candle lit, but ta douse the candle if the bird sings.” he replied.

She nodded back, “I owe ya one Hulfdan. Can’t promise I can sneak away from Avalon that often, but next time I’m around we can share another drink.” she smirked.

Hulfdan smirked back, “Ye’ve come a long way since Darkdraft damn near broke yer arm fer tryin’ ta knife me in a cave gel…”

Samantha grinned, “But how far will I go yet, and how much will I be able to sell the shit I find on the path for?” she chuckled.

Hulfdan laughed, “There’s the Sam I remember!” he grinned, “Shove off lass, yer Avalon is likely waitin’ fer ye.” he shook his head, looking away for a moment.

“Already gone.” came the reply.

Hulfdan looked up, then behind him, then back ahead… and he was alone in the room. “… bloody fel, maybe I should give a voidy thing a poke sometime…” he muttered, then glanced at the table. There was a fresh bottle of Thunderbrew there with a note reading ‘for the lads.’ The dwarf just had to grin.

Outside Sam walked through the Forlorn Cavern, quiet as a whisper, invisible as a breeze.

"That dwarf will be able to help your allies find Dissonantia?" asked Annulus in her mind.

Sam nodded, thinking back to her, “(She knows how to prevent you from seeing her in your visions, buggered if I know HOW but she does. Hulfdan’s boys are skilled rogues and they run every scam from here to Arathi. If Dissonantia shows up north of the Burning Steppes, Hulfdan will know within the week.)”

"We shall see…" came the reply.

Sam snorted, “(Have a little confidence Annulus. Just because we can’t see the future doesn’t mean we can’t catch it from behind and make off with its purse.)” she smirked.

Annulus paused, then replied, "As limited as you mortals are, you do have the most entertaining way of viewing the world. Make off with its purse indeed."

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