Half a dozen orc commandos and a blood elf captain were taken somewhat by surprise as well. Brian moved back to heal the party as Assassen began swinging his axe. Orious mid-field cast roots upon the first available orc target, while to one he had already lit up ran about trying to put out the smoldering ruin of his latest haircut. Assassen took out one by slamming the flat of his axe on his opponent’s metal helm. The orc fell in a heap and Assassen moved to the next. This one was ready for him but the druid spoke in a loud voice "Peace hoardlings...I require a moment with your captain...then we shall decide whether we continue our dance, and how bloody it will become." This was an unexpected turn to the captain, but he was down 2 men and the opposition seemed pretty strong...they already discomfited 2 of his men and hadn't a scratch on them...best to listen for a bit. "Peace" said the captain. "We will talk night elf...my men will back off, as will yours. If we desire to begin this fight again, you and I will resume it, cousin to cousin. Orious realized that this was a rare thing to be said....only in a moment of parley do blood elves and night elves ever admit kinship. The captain saying this was more hopeful than disarming them. This meant they would speak freely until either the captain or he reignited hostilities. It also opened negotiations on a less partisan note. It did not negate the possibility of deception but while less than a truce it was a break in the fight. “The Red Dragonflight has sent me to find a way to contact Thrall. They evidently believe something monumental is about to happen, catastrophic even…they obviously know more than they are telling, but Thrall is somehow wrapped up in it and they wish for me to speak to him.” The captain shifted uncomfortably and said “What you need to say to Thrall you may say to me.” “If I knew what there was to say I would do so…they sent me to find him in person and that is all. I assume they will give me further instructions at that point,” said the druid.
“I regret that I personally do not know where Thrall is at this time” said the captain. “Captain Elmost will know, or so they indicated” The captain went pale…obviously a nerve had been struck. “I’m assuming that you either know Captain Elmost or you are the captain in question.” Quickly the captain brought up his sword to place it between himself and the druid, and to end their discussion by resuming combat, but he had barely moved his sword hand before from the shadows at his right a whip flew out and grabbed his forearm and from the back Assassen charged to the druid’s aid and in the blink of an eye the captains goatee had parted from his chin and lay intact on the ground at his feet. “Captain, sir” began the dwarf, “My axe is the sharpest blade on this continent, your shave was close but it may shave you closer still. I suggest you cooperate with the druid or I’ll take you and all your men on right here and now and march up and take the rest of your company unaware. I’ll wager you’ve heard my name whispered in the ranks though I have not heard yours.” A figure emerged from the shadows still holding the whip that restrained the captains’ sword. It was Lovetails. “Good evening gentlemen, good evening captain. Assassen is correct…you are all outmatched, and I did not arrive alone. We have no use for your outpost and have no particular designs for conflict here. Simple answers to simple questions will suffice. In the matter of the safety of Azeroth, surely we are all united in this?”
The captain blinked rapidly a few times, cleared his throat and dropped his sword. “Indeed, if this is a matter of the safety of our world then hostilities between us must be set aside.” “Very well then, the answer to the question of Thrall’s whereabouts gains you our peaceful withdrawal from the vicinity of your outpost should Thrall be not here” “Your axe, Sir Assassen…it is quite sharp and as I have already benefitted from your skills as a barber, I would prefer to keep the skin on my neck intact…I have already dropped my weapon.”
Assassen stood down but did not withdraw. “Thank you”, said the captain as he nodded at the dwarf. “Indeed Thrall is not here, and I am Elmost, captain of the guard here. All I know is that he went alone in search of the great orc shaman in Draenor…the Outlands. I believe he is somewhere in the land called Nagrand. This is all I know…other than I believe that Thrall shares the dragonflight’s premonition…He too seemed to see things of grave import in the activities of the elementals. What it means I do not know.”
All elves (night elves, blood elves, any elves) greet each other thusly, the right hand upon the left shoulder is a friendly greeting or parting, the right hand on the right shoulder is a greeting or parting that indicates mistrust. Ie you can flip them away such that their back is facing you. The former would allow for a frontal attack…thus it is used only with trusted people. Orious grasped the bloodelf’s left shoulder in a friendly parting and said, “I hope our encounter does not complicate your situation Captain…in the matter of our world, we must be friends” The captain hesitated and then returned the greeting in kind “Indeed, in this matter we are agreed”…”Shall I try to send word of your coming to Thrall?” Orious chuckled, “By the time you send it I shall already be there.” The captain smiled and both parties backed away. Orious, Brian and Ass waited to see that the still hidden company had made away safely. Their departure sounded like a great flock of birds that had suddenly been disturbed from their roost. Lovetails remained and said “I will await you in Dalaran and then we will travel together to Nagrand. I know the orcs of Draenor, and it is time I revisited my broken world again.”, smiling at them and nodding at the druid, and she mounted her great blue drake and vanished into the night sky. The trio mounted their steeds and the druid saluted the captain and the three flew off like a hurricane towards the southwest and the fabled floating city of Dalaran.
Since the great battle, the fall and raising of Lovetails, the epic journey through the lands beyond living and back again by the paladin and the druid, the druids darkened arm had grown stronger, more predictable and more reliable. The empathic connection between the paladin and her druid had become likewise more settled and comfortable for them both, if indeed comfortable is the word. Their conversations for the most part were brief and to the point, but to others who knew them well, it seemed as if more were being understood by both of them than there were words spoken. For each of them, it was more that they knew each others hearts than that they knew each others thoughts, though if the tried they could convey thoughts somewhat, though those came more as pictures and feelings than in the way thoughts come to us as individuals. They did not speak about feelings, since they were thusly connected it was unnecessary and since there was no changing their situation then it was needless to discuss the matter further at this time.
With this musing in mind Orious and the paladins arrived at the landing in Dalaran. He dismounted his great violet drake and they made their way to A Hero’s Welcome. The crew had a table upstairs in the back and already it was getting rowdy. When the trio came in there was a cheer and greetings all around. Plates of food were brought in for the latecomers and the better beer was liberated from the bartender.
After dinner Assassen, Brian, Love, Orious and Xolydian sat around a fire laid with apple wood, drinking the last of the innkeeper’s best lager, and talking about this new development. It had been only a few months since the defeat of the Lich King, and the secret installment of another.
It had been a fight of epic proportions. The light show they put on apparently could be seen from the Shadow Vault in the far north. The destruction of Arthas did not end their losses, for another Lich King had to be chosen lest the world be overrun with the undead of the ages. To control them Bolvar placed the helm of Ner’zhul upon his head and sat upon the frozen throne and the Lich King was reborn. Would this one remain an ally or would he too have to be defeated at some later era? Tirion and the warriors had retreated leaving Bolvar burning like a solitary star above the frozen fields of Icecrown. The loss of Bolvar was great and yet what if he could hold on to his humanity and control the myriad of undead, keeping them in the far north and preserving the world from their ravenous attention? The death of Arthas affected the druid, both because Arthas had betrayed his friends and allies in the past, but also because Orious had known Arthas as a lad, and he mourned for the king he never grew up to become. He was, of course, glad they had taken down Arthas, he and Love and Rakk had healed that fight and it took all their strength, resourcefulness and skill to keep them all alive. He did not mourn the monster, but he mourned the boy he first saw play fighting with a wooden sword in what now seemed a distant autumn in Lordaeron, though for the druid it was as recent in his memory as yesterday…perhaps this is how humans feel looking back…perhaps all those regrets stretch time until it is a taunt thread that sings its mournful song in the night winds of remembering.
Their council produced a simple plan to scour Nagrand and find the elusive Thrall and first tell him about the call of the Dragonflights and the general strangeness of happenings throughout the lands. Auberdine was being stuck with some kind of sleeping sickness and Darkshore seemed to be the focus of some kind of attack on the Emerald Dream. Some of the guild members were already there dealing with these phenomena. Elementals were behaving strangely everywhere. Did Thrall know something about these happenings or was he just a pawn in all this like Orious felt himself to be….one or another moved him into place and there he fought. It was not the first time he wished he had stayed in that dream state between life and death with his paladin. At least there he would not have been moved around the board so much with so little control of his own destiny, at least there had been the possibility of peace and happiness. A hand on his shoulder interrupted his darkened reverie. She looked in his eyes and there he saw both the reality of you knew it would be thus, and the understanding that nothing would change the connection between them, neither war nor peace, nor being pawns on a great ethereal chessboard. Indeed every ending was another beginning.
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