Even from afar, the one known as the Hunter was massive. Easily the largest flamewalker in the Firelands, his lower snake body undulated behind him while a massive spear was strapped to his back. His two hell hounds, Riplimb and Rageface, stalked on either side of Shannox.
“Yes... I smell them too, Riplimb. Outsiders encroach on the Firelord's private grounds. Find their trail, find them for me, that I may dispense punishment!” Shannox roared.
“I can keep Shannox’s attention,” Mal volunteered. “But those dogs will be trouble.”
Wiegraff nodded slowly. “Jizal will have to take Riplimb. From the night elf reports, Rageface seems to be a bit of a wild card so I want the 2 hunters on Rageface at all times. Keep him at a distance and take him out. Cyan will stay on Shannox along with Mal. Slippy and Bulalo will rotate between both hounds.”
“Target priority?” Slippy asked.
“Rageface needs to die first,” Wiegraff replied. “Then we focus on Riplimb. Shannox is not going to be happy about his hounds dying so we need to make sure Shannox is weakened before finishing off Riplimb. Make sure to stay out of his traps. Understood?”
Everyone nodded.
At that moment, Shannox the Hunter appeared over the ridge to the east. His hounds strode by his sides. “Everyone spread out and get ready!” Wiegraff shouted. “Veexie and Oicmus will stay on the damage dealers and Jizal, I’ll stay on Mal.”
“Just say the word, boss,” Mal said as she unlimbered her shield and swung her sword first left then right.
Jizal did the same and swayed from side to side, grinding the reddish brown dirt of the Firelands under his boots. Wiegraff took a look at all the members of the unit and nodded once. “Misdirects and Tricks of the Trade to Mal and Jiz. Going in 3, 2, 1... GO!”
Mal executed a perfect heroic leap directly in front of the massive flamewalker and slammed his sword into the ground, the shockwave temporarily stunning Shannox. The hellhounds bayed once and charged even as Jizal’s shield flew into Riplimp and slammed directly into his nose. Bladewisp leaped back even as he fired several crossbow bolts into Rageface.
Shannox screamed in fury. “Aha! The interlopers! Kill them! EAT THEM!”
Veexie had already placed a holy shield on Jizal which Riplimb was trying his damnedest to get through.
“Go for the throat!” Shannox instructed Rageface.
Rageface roared at Bladewisp first then leaped a seemingly impossible distance, stunning and mauling Cyan. Killstrike, foregoing his crossbow for a longbow, took careful aim and slammed an arrow into Rageface’s side with the force only a longbow could deliver at that distance. Rageface howled in pain even as he bounded to the troll hunter who sidestepped to the left to catch the hellhound in one of his master’s own crystal ice traps.
“Everyone switch to Riplimb!” Wiegraff directed.
Both hunters turned their bows to Riplimb. They waited a split second for Jizal to step to the side before firing their weapons. Bolt and arrow whipped into the enraged hellhound, eliciting a yelp of pain and anguish. Jizal kept his shield raised even as the dog’s claws gouged furrows into the metal. Bulalo and Slippy sped into the fray, slamming mace and dagger into the hellhound’s hindquarters. Cyan called forth shadow and flame, keeping his focus on Shannox himself.
“Go for the throat!” Shannox roared. Rageface had broken free of the trap and bounded straight for Slippy. Bladewisp tracked the hound’s path and fired just as the hound reached the troll rogue. His bolt nearly skewered the hound and another howl of pain issued from the dog’s throat.
“He’s nearly done! Finish him off! Kill Rageface!” Wiegraff shouted.
Almost at the same time, both hunters whispered, “Kill shot.” Arrow and bolt streaked to their target, slamming into Rageface and nearly splitting him in two. His final howl faded into abrupt silence.
Shannox roared. “You murderers! Why... why would you kill such a noble animal?!” Cyan and Mal continued to keep Shannox’s attention as both hunters shifted their attention to Riplimb. Bulalo and Slippy moved over to focus on Shannox.
The hunters and Jizal made short work of Riplimb even as Cyan, Bulalo, and Slippy weakened Shannox further. When Riplimb went down, Shannox issued another cry. “Riplimb! No... no! Oh, you terrible little beasts! HOW COULD YOU?!”
Wiegraff motioned to Shannox. “Burn him down!”
Slippy moved to Shannox’s blind side and plunged both daggers repeatedly into his back, his hands nearly blurring with the speed of his stabbing. Bulalo slammed both maces into the flamewalkers’s back, just above Slippy’s blows. Cyan called down shadow and flame, laughing in glee as his spells engulfed his foe.
Shannox fell, his death shaking the very ground of the Firelands. As he fell, the flamewalker hissed, “The pain... Lord of fire, it hurts...”
Friday, January 6, 2012
Friday, September 23, 2011
Planning and Preparation
The searing heat was palpable as the team entered the Firelands portal. On the other side, the Avengers of Hyjal, the night elves’ elite troops, had established a beachhead.
Wiegraff spoke to the night elf commander and nodded even as his team availed themselves of much-needed provisions. The Tauren druid returned with a determined look on his face.
“Hunters, I’ll need you both to map the area and pick out our targets,” Wiegraff started issuing instructions. “This will serve as our fallback position. If things go badly in there, we rendezvous here. The Avengers of Hyjal have agreed to provide us with as much support as necessary. We move out once the hunters are done.”
In a corner, Killstrike and Bladewisp stood with eyes closed and palms held outward, rotating slowly. The skill was called Eagle Eye and was taught to all hunters. With this, they were able to get a bird’s-eye view of the territory for a long distance. “You got it, mon?” Killstrike asked.
Bladewisp nodded. “More or less. There’s a lot fo roving patrols to handle, and some of those giants look nasty. We’ll need to clear the immediate area before the primary targets.” The orc hunter pulled out a roll of soft leather and a hefty piece of charcoal and started sketching a rough map.
Even as he did so, Killstrike was talking to some of the night elves, gathering what information he could. He returned shortly and called Wiegraff over. Bladewisp’s map was done.
“Dere’s a lot of roving patrols and giants, but nothin’ we can’t handle easily,” Killstrike began, pointing at specific points along a rough path that circled the plain. “Mostly elementals, molten giants, core hounds and scorpions.”
“Dere’s a citadel here,” the troll hunter pointed at a northern structure that seemed cut off from the rest of the land. “But dere’s no bridge so not sure how we’ll get across the chasm. Dere be 4 primary targets we can see, and 1 we know about only from de night elves.”
“According to de Avengers o’ Hyjal, dis here be de lair of Beth’tilac,” Killstrike pointed at the eastern part of the map, where a narrow pathway led to a cul de sac. “From what de night elves say, she be a mean old flame spider dat has killed many a mercenary company like ours.”
The troll’s finger moved to the western part of the map. “Up dis ramp is da elemental Lord Rhyolith, supposed to be da strongest molten giant in da Firelands. Near his lair is the Shatterstone plain, where da night elf traitor Fandral Staghelm is supposed to be. Da gateway to da citadel is guarded by Baleroc, called da Gatekeeper. Dat makes 4.”
“De night elves say there is a fifth one that roams around this plain,” Killstrike indicated the central area of the map. “He be Shannox, called the Hunter. He only comes out when many of the beasties in the area are threatened. We’ll likely see him before any of the others.”
Wiegraff nodded slowly, brows furrowed. He called the entire unit over and explained his plan. “Very well, we push outward down this ramp to the flatland. Once there, we’ll head east. I want the eastern area leading to the flame spider cleared of all elementals, scorpions, molten giants, and core hounds. Once we clear enough, I daresay this Shannox the Hunter will show himself. This cleared area will serve as our battlefield to take him out before heading to Beth’tilac. Any questions?”
A bony hand went up. Slippy, the troll rogue, piped up. “What do we know about dis Shannox? Does he have pets like our hunters? Traps mebbe?”
Killstrike stepped forward. “The night elves tell us dat Shannox is accompanied by 2 hounds, named Riplimb and Rageface.”
“We must assume that this hunter will have trapping abilities just like ours,” Bladewisp chimed in.
Oicmus, the other blood elf paladin, waved airily as he patted his nose with a cloth. The sulfurous smell here was annoying. “Pah, hounds. Filthy creatures. We should take them out before focusing on Shannox himself.”
Cyan was already rubbing his hands together. “Wonder how much gold we’ll make off of the leather from those hounds? Ok, who wants potions? Just 50 gold a vial!”
Wiegraff stared at Cyan sternly.
“What? I’m kidding! Here, everyone get a flask from my cauldron.”
Wiegraff turned to Mal and Jizal. “You two will be the vanguard of our assault. Bulalo and Slippy will be melee support while Cyan and the 2 hunters will be ranged support. Oicmus, Veexie, and myself will make sure people don’t die. Understood?”
Mal shrugged. “Jizal can pick up any stragglers after my initial assault.”
Jizal’s eyes widened. “Stragglers? My avenger’s shield will show you…”
The two were still arguing when the mercenary company mounted up and rode out. Killstrike hefted his longbow in one hand.
“You trolls really do favor longbows, eh?” Bladewisp commented.
“Yeh, mon,” the troll responded with a toothy grin. “Nothin’ like a bow and arrow to deliver death from afar with no one da wiser.”
A few hours, 2 molten giants, 2 packs of scorpions, 4 elemental scourges, and 1 core hound later, the mercenary company were gathered on the cleared flat plain resting and preparing for the arrival of Shannox the Hunter.
Earlier, they had heard his horn a few times, each one closer than the last. It was time.
Wiegraff spoke to the night elf commander and nodded even as his team availed themselves of much-needed provisions. The Tauren druid returned with a determined look on his face.
“Hunters, I’ll need you both to map the area and pick out our targets,” Wiegraff started issuing instructions. “This will serve as our fallback position. If things go badly in there, we rendezvous here. The Avengers of Hyjal have agreed to provide us with as much support as necessary. We move out once the hunters are done.”
In a corner, Killstrike and Bladewisp stood with eyes closed and palms held outward, rotating slowly. The skill was called Eagle Eye and was taught to all hunters. With this, they were able to get a bird’s-eye view of the territory for a long distance. “You got it, mon?” Killstrike asked.
Bladewisp nodded. “More or less. There’s a lot fo roving patrols to handle, and some of those giants look nasty. We’ll need to clear the immediate area before the primary targets.” The orc hunter pulled out a roll of soft leather and a hefty piece of charcoal and started sketching a rough map.
Even as he did so, Killstrike was talking to some of the night elves, gathering what information he could. He returned shortly and called Wiegraff over. Bladewisp’s map was done.
“Dere’s a lot of roving patrols and giants, but nothin’ we can’t handle easily,” Killstrike began, pointing at specific points along a rough path that circled the plain. “Mostly elementals, molten giants, core hounds and scorpions.”
“Dere’s a citadel here,” the troll hunter pointed at a northern structure that seemed cut off from the rest of the land. “But dere’s no bridge so not sure how we’ll get across the chasm. Dere be 4 primary targets we can see, and 1 we know about only from de night elves.”
“According to de Avengers o’ Hyjal, dis here be de lair of Beth’tilac,” Killstrike pointed at the eastern part of the map, where a narrow pathway led to a cul de sac. “From what de night elves say, she be a mean old flame spider dat has killed many a mercenary company like ours.”
The troll’s finger moved to the western part of the map. “Up dis ramp is da elemental Lord Rhyolith, supposed to be da strongest molten giant in da Firelands. Near his lair is the Shatterstone plain, where da night elf traitor Fandral Staghelm is supposed to be. Da gateway to da citadel is guarded by Baleroc, called da Gatekeeper. Dat makes 4.”
“De night elves say there is a fifth one that roams around this plain,” Killstrike indicated the central area of the map. “He be Shannox, called the Hunter. He only comes out when many of the beasties in the area are threatened. We’ll likely see him before any of the others.”
Wiegraff nodded slowly, brows furrowed. He called the entire unit over and explained his plan. “Very well, we push outward down this ramp to the flatland. Once there, we’ll head east. I want the eastern area leading to the flame spider cleared of all elementals, scorpions, molten giants, and core hounds. Once we clear enough, I daresay this Shannox the Hunter will show himself. This cleared area will serve as our battlefield to take him out before heading to Beth’tilac. Any questions?”
A bony hand went up. Slippy, the troll rogue, piped up. “What do we know about dis Shannox? Does he have pets like our hunters? Traps mebbe?”
Killstrike stepped forward. “The night elves tell us dat Shannox is accompanied by 2 hounds, named Riplimb and Rageface.”
“We must assume that this hunter will have trapping abilities just like ours,” Bladewisp chimed in.
Oicmus, the other blood elf paladin, waved airily as he patted his nose with a cloth. The sulfurous smell here was annoying. “Pah, hounds. Filthy creatures. We should take them out before focusing on Shannox himself.”
Cyan was already rubbing his hands together. “Wonder how much gold we’ll make off of the leather from those hounds? Ok, who wants potions? Just 50 gold a vial!”
Wiegraff stared at Cyan sternly.
“What? I’m kidding! Here, everyone get a flask from my cauldron.”
Wiegraff turned to Mal and Jizal. “You two will be the vanguard of our assault. Bulalo and Slippy will be melee support while Cyan and the 2 hunters will be ranged support. Oicmus, Veexie, and myself will make sure people don’t die. Understood?”
Mal shrugged. “Jizal can pick up any stragglers after my initial assault.”
Jizal’s eyes widened. “Stragglers? My avenger’s shield will show you…”
The two were still arguing when the mercenary company mounted up and rode out. Killstrike hefted his longbow in one hand.
“You trolls really do favor longbows, eh?” Bladewisp commented.
“Yeh, mon,” the troll responded with a toothy grin. “Nothin’ like a bow and arrow to deliver death from afar with no one da wiser.”
A few hours, 2 molten giants, 2 packs of scorpions, 4 elemental scourges, and 1 core hound later, the mercenary company were gathered on the cleared flat plain resting and preparing for the arrival of Shannox the Hunter.
Earlier, they had heard his horn a few times, each one closer than the last. It was time.
Thursday, September 22, 2011
Reboot: Into the Firelands
The heat was stifling here.
Amid the flowing lava just outside the Sulfuron Spire, dry smoke and ash drifted upwards and permeated the atmosphere. They had fought long and hard to get to this point. Supported by the Warchief’s own Kor’kron infantry, their mercenary unit had smashed through the Twilight’s Hammer resistance from Mount Hyjal to the Twilight Highlands, in the process defeating Deathwing’s most powerful lieutenants.
Even as the Bastion of Twilight had fallen, the call had sounded from Grommash Hold in Orgrimmar. The Horde and its Warchief had need of bold adventurers to drive the offensive into the Firelands, deep into the territory of the Firelord Ragnaros. As one of Deathwing’s most powerful supporters, and an elemental lord to boot, Ragnaros possessed the key to final resolution of the Cataclysm on Azeroth.
Warchief Garrosh Hellscream looked upon the mercenary unit’s leader with distaste. He would have preferred an orc be the leader of the mercenary unit that would be the first to fight in the Firelands. “Wiegraff of the Terra Cotta clan of the Tauren. Both Vol’jin and Baine Bloodhoof speak very highly of your mercenary unit.”
The Tauren druid, Wiegraff, bowed deeply before the Horde Warchief. “Lok’tar ogar, Warchief of the Horde. We stand ready for the push into the Firelands. We shall be the head of the spear that destroys Ragnaros and brings peace to this land.”
Mal, a female orc warrior, chimed in. “And glory to the Horde!” Garrosh nodded his approval at the outburst. At least there were more than a few orcs in this unit.
Cyan, a goblin warlock, whispered in a subdued voice. “And riches to us!” Veexie, a blood elf priest, chuckled as she shot him a glance. “Hush, lest you bring the wrath of the Warchief.”
The warlock shrugged. He had never felt beholden to authority, much less that of this Warchief. Garrosh wasn’t even the real Warchief, just a stand-in while the real Warchief, Thrall, was off doing other things. Thrall. Now there was a Warchief one could respect.
“Lok’tar ogar! For the glory of the Horde! The way to the Firelands lies past the gateway of Sulfuron Spire. The way lies open to you. Strike fast and true, warriors of the Horde! Attack!” Garrosh screamed.
As one, all 10 members of the mercenary crew mounted up and flew over the lake of molten fire and onto the platform that led into the Firelands.
“You ready for dis, mon?” Killstrike, a troll hunter, turned to his fellow hunter, an orc named Bladewisp.
The orc shrugged as he adjusted his Lava Bolt Crossbow, twin to the one the troll held. “We’ve fought our way this far. I’ve got a special bolt just for Ragnaros’ eye.”
The troll nodded his approval. “As do I, mon. As do I.”
Bulalo, a Tauren shaman, turned to both hunters. “Remember, when everything starts to fall apart in there, it’s Cyan’s fault.”
The blood elf paladin, Jizal, brightened considerably at that. “Finally, it’ll be someone else’s fault this time.”
Amid the flowing lava just outside the Sulfuron Spire, dry smoke and ash drifted upwards and permeated the atmosphere. They had fought long and hard to get to this point. Supported by the Warchief’s own Kor’kron infantry, their mercenary unit had smashed through the Twilight’s Hammer resistance from Mount Hyjal to the Twilight Highlands, in the process defeating Deathwing’s most powerful lieutenants.
Even as the Bastion of Twilight had fallen, the call had sounded from Grommash Hold in Orgrimmar. The Horde and its Warchief had need of bold adventurers to drive the offensive into the Firelands, deep into the territory of the Firelord Ragnaros. As one of Deathwing’s most powerful supporters, and an elemental lord to boot, Ragnaros possessed the key to final resolution of the Cataclysm on Azeroth.
Warchief Garrosh Hellscream looked upon the mercenary unit’s leader with distaste. He would have preferred an orc be the leader of the mercenary unit that would be the first to fight in the Firelands. “Wiegraff of the Terra Cotta clan of the Tauren. Both Vol’jin and Baine Bloodhoof speak very highly of your mercenary unit.”
The Tauren druid, Wiegraff, bowed deeply before the Horde Warchief. “Lok’tar ogar, Warchief of the Horde. We stand ready for the push into the Firelands. We shall be the head of the spear that destroys Ragnaros and brings peace to this land.”
Mal, a female orc warrior, chimed in. “And glory to the Horde!” Garrosh nodded his approval at the outburst. At least there were more than a few orcs in this unit.
Cyan, a goblin warlock, whispered in a subdued voice. “And riches to us!” Veexie, a blood elf priest, chuckled as she shot him a glance. “Hush, lest you bring the wrath of the Warchief.”
The warlock shrugged. He had never felt beholden to authority, much less that of this Warchief. Garrosh wasn’t even the real Warchief, just a stand-in while the real Warchief, Thrall, was off doing other things. Thrall. Now there was a Warchief one could respect.
“Lok’tar ogar! For the glory of the Horde! The way to the Firelands lies past the gateway of Sulfuron Spire. The way lies open to you. Strike fast and true, warriors of the Horde! Attack!” Garrosh screamed.
As one, all 10 members of the mercenary crew mounted up and flew over the lake of molten fire and onto the platform that led into the Firelands.
“You ready for dis, mon?” Killstrike, a troll hunter, turned to his fellow hunter, an orc named Bladewisp.
The orc shrugged as he adjusted his Lava Bolt Crossbow, twin to the one the troll held. “We’ve fought our way this far. I’ve got a special bolt just for Ragnaros’ eye.”
The troll nodded his approval. “As do I, mon. As do I.”
Bulalo, a Tauren shaman, turned to both hunters. “Remember, when everything starts to fall apart in there, it’s Cyan’s fault.”
The blood elf paladin, Jizal, brightened considerably at that. “Finally, it’ll be someone else’s fault this time.”
Sunday, July 25, 2010
The Hunt and The Horde
As the flying ship docked into Warsong Hold, I stepped off the platform and stamped my feet on the cold stone floor. My comrades had mentioned Northrend was cold and I’d prepared accordingly. Still, the bone numbing freeze that penetrated my skin was like nothing I’d ever experienced.
“You! Hunter!” A gruff voice shouted in a commanding tone. “Zaytsev, right? Lord Saurfang and Commander Hellscream await you in the War Room! On the double, soldier!”
I snapped a quick salute, slamming my fist into my breastplate, before running down the stairs toward the War Room. My faithful wolf, Ulric, was on my heels, his thick fur ample protection against the cold.
“Hunter Zaytsev reporting as ordered, sir!” I saluted even as Saurfang and Garrosh looked up from a pile of maps in the center of the room.
Garrosh’s eyes narrowed. “Ah, you’re that hotshot hunter everyone’s been talking about eh? Able to hit a robin’s eye at two hundred paces, they claimed. Unless you can shoot right into the Lich King’s helm, I’m not impressed.”
Saurfang sighed, obviously used to such words. “Welcome to Northrend, Zaytsev. It heartens me to see young and brave Horde soldiers taking up arms against the Lich King. First things first, soldier, here are your orders. The way to Icecrown Citadel is long and difficult. When the time is right, I’d dearly want to be there when you do shoot right into the Lich King’s cursed helm. Until then, hunter, lok’tar ogar! For the Horde!”
“You! Hunter!” A gruff voice shouted in a commanding tone. “Zaytsev, right? Lord Saurfang and Commander Hellscream await you in the War Room! On the double, soldier!”
I snapped a quick salute, slamming my fist into my breastplate, before running down the stairs toward the War Room. My faithful wolf, Ulric, was on my heels, his thick fur ample protection against the cold.
“Hunter Zaytsev reporting as ordered, sir!” I saluted even as Saurfang and Garrosh looked up from a pile of maps in the center of the room.
Garrosh’s eyes narrowed. “Ah, you’re that hotshot hunter everyone’s been talking about eh? Able to hit a robin’s eye at two hundred paces, they claimed. Unless you can shoot right into the Lich King’s helm, I’m not impressed.”
Saurfang sighed, obviously used to such words. “Welcome to Northrend, Zaytsev. It heartens me to see young and brave Horde soldiers taking up arms against the Lich King. First things first, soldier, here are your orders. The way to Icecrown Citadel is long and difficult. When the time is right, I’d dearly want to be there when you do shoot right into the Lich King’s cursed helm. Until then, hunter, lok’tar ogar! For the Horde!”
Monday, April 19, 2010
Hiatus and Transformation
Given our guild's recent upheaval and inactivity on the raiding landscape, I will now be officially placing my main character, Bladewisp, on sabbatical. He'll show up from time to time only for inventory management purposes and other such mundane tasks. Otherwise, he'll be cooling his heels on the bench, so to speak.
Doesn't mean I'll stop playing though. Allow me to introduce my new Horde alt, Zaytsev, orc hunter. I'll be focusing on leveling him up so as to experience life and leveling Horde-style.
In case you're curious, Zaytsev is the name of a Russian sniper back in WW2 which formed the basis for the movie "Enemy at the Gates" starring Joseph Fiennes and Jude Law. Cool huh?
Doesn't mean I'll stop playing though. Allow me to introduce my new Horde alt, Zaytsev, orc hunter. I'll be focusing on leveling him up so as to experience life and leveling Horde-style.
In case you're curious, Zaytsev is the name of a Russian sniper back in WW2 which formed the basis for the movie "Enemy at the Gates" starring Joseph Fiennes and Jude Law. Cool huh?
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Bladewisp's Diary (Entry #6)
The Skybreaker cast its lines and moored itself at the entry to the Upper Spire which SI:7 agents said the Scourge called Deathbringer’s Rise. The Alliance vessel was well-stocked and we all replenished much-needed supplies as we took a breather before assaulting the heart of Icecrown Citadel.
I thanked a human fletcher for providing me with enough iceblade arrows to fill my depleted magical quiver while, nearby, both Brutusk and Jarvisius chatted up an herbalist who provided them with herbal reagents for spellcasting. Even Brendah managed to refill vials of poison from a shady crewman.
Avierra was conferring with Muradin. “Any news concerning the healer we sent back to Light’s Hammer?”
The wizened dwarf shook his head. “Nay, lass. I’ve had no word from the Highlord. I suggest ye concentrate on the task at hand. No telling what’s inside those doors.”
Avierra nodded in agreement. “Have we figured out a way to open those doors?”
Muradin shook his head. “One of my goblin crewmen is thinking about explosives but there’s a danger of damaging the Skybreaker in the blast. I’m fairly sure the doors are booby trapped so I’ll be sending a team of… volunteers to check them out.”
The paladin cocked an eyebrow. “Volunteers?”
Muradin shrugged. “I’m pretty sure they’re SI:7 but the King doesn’t want me to blow their cover, apparently.”
“Of course,” Avierra remarked. “Wouldn’t want to do that…”
One of the crewmen came bursting through the door. “Captain! You’ll want to come see this.”
Muradin and Avierra rushed out on deck and were greeted with the sight of a lone undead orc standing before the now-open double doors. “For every Horde warrior you kill, for every Alliance dog that falls, the Scourge grows stronger. Even now, the Lich King’s val’kyr work to raise your fallen into Scourge. Come, let me show you the power that the Lich King has bestowed upon me.”
Captain Muradin’s amazement was clear. “A lone orc? Against the might of the Alliance?? CHARGE!!!” Five Alliance soldiers rushed in to engage the undead orc. They were all taken by an invisible shadowy force by the throat and raised high in the air as the orc laughed. The soldiers struggled in vain as Muradin stood in shock.
“Dwarves…” The orc chuckled.
“Engage the orc!” Avierra roared. Azmuth and Mal rushed in from opposite sides, having already decided not to take the direct route. Calimdan, Brendah, and Jizal were close behind, wicked claws and steel hammering into the lone undead guardian. Jarvisius and I hurled magic and arrow from a distance, one on each side. The healers were spread out in a fan-like formation to cover as much of the platform as possible.
“He’s getting stronger!” Azmuth warned as the orc seemed to shrug off blows that would have felled most normal undead monsters. “Not sure how long we can keep this up!”
Avierra clenched her teeth. It appeared as if the orc was feeding off the blood being shed on that platform. Crimson globes appeared to float off of us that were, in turn, absorbed by the undead orc. “He’s feeding off of us somehow!” Avierra shouted as she redoubled her healing efforts.
The orc gave a massive heave that sent our people sprawling and laughed. He raised both fists into the air and crimson lightning arced down from the sky. In their wake, a pair of blood beasts had appeared. Even as we proceeded to engage, Avierra gave a warning shout.
“The blood beasts will feed him further,” Avierra warned. “Don’t engage them. Let Jarvisius and Bladewisp take them from range!”
I quickly nodded at Jarvisius as I loosed a distracting shot at the nearest blood beast. It roared and came crawling toward me. While its movement speed was slow, I had to make sure to keep out of its reach. I dropped a freezing trap before leaping backward. The trap slowed the beast even more, while I fired three explosive shots in rapid succession. The explosive charges in the arrows burst into flame from within the beast, incinerating it from the inside out. On the other side of the platform, Jarvisius and his pet imp Zignar were likewise making short work of their own blood beast. I quickly turned back to firing at the undead orc.
“It’s working!” Hotohuri shouted, in tree form. Until you’ve seen a tree shout, you haven’t lived. “His wounds aren’t healing themselves!”
We redoubled our efforts. Twice more, he summoned a pair of blood beasts and both times, Jarvisius and I took them from range and destroyed them before they could energize him further. Avierra assisted on these, dropping a holy stun on both beasts to give us more time to kill them.
Mal swung a particularly vicious blow at the orc. Instead of shrugging it off like he did before, the orc appeared to stagger, opening him up to a few blows from Brendah.
“He’s weakening!” Mal crowed in triumph before the orc roared and fetched Mal a well-placed blow that sent the night elf warrior sprawling. He shook his head to clear the cobwebs before giving a shout and rejoining the fray.
The undead orc heaved, sending all our melee people sprawling for a bare split second. He pointed a finger at Hotohuri (in tree form) and his eyes seemed to burn with fury. “Mark of the Fallen!”
A brand magically appeared on Hotohuri’s trunk, seemingly burned into the very wood. As our melee assaulted the orc again, the orc smashed his fist into Mal. The night elf warrior staggered, blood flying from his nose and mouth. Hotohuri, yards away, felt the blow as if she was the one struck and fell to her knees, coughing and spitting blood.
Avierra noted this and her eyes widened. “Take him down now! Hotohuri’s gonna need heals!”
Hotohuri shook her head, leaves swaying in her tree form. “I can heal myself. Keep our people alive! Take that orc down.” Even as she spoke, more wounds seemed to magically appear on the bark of her tree form. She cast more healing spells on herself, barely keeping up with the pace of damage being inflicted.
Everyone redoubled their efforts. Jizal flicked me a hand signal, quickly echoed by Jarvisius, Calimdan and Brendah. Azmuth noted the signal and hissed, “Hysteria on Jizal.”
Jizal’s sword glowed a near-phosphorescent white, Jarvisius began to gather fel power for a massive fireball, Calimdan edged back slightly to give himself room to swing, Brendah dug deep into her bag of tricks and both knives came up sizzling with deadly poison. I nocked an arrow and fixed my eyes on the orc’s left eye, everything else became muted and time seemed to slow. Kill shot time, I thought to myself.
“NOW!” Avierra roared.
Jizal’s incandescent sword slammed into the orc’s back with savage holy power.
Jarvisius let loose with a massive fel fireball that engulfed the orc in green burning death.
Calimdan rushed in with a clawed swipe that struck at the orc’s legs, hamstringing him.
Brendah jammed both knives bubbling with deadly poison deep into the orc’s bowels.
My arrow flew straight and true, burying itself to the fletching in the orc’s left eye.
Everyone leaped back as the orc shuddered and fell, hitting the ground with a boom that shook the very walls of the citadel. The orc’s helm rolled away and we got a look at his face. “It’s Saurfang the Younger,” Brutusk noted. “He was taken at the Wrathgate, along with Highlord Bolvar.”
“At the very least, he now rests in peace,” Avierra said.
The mark on Hotohuri faded away upon Saurfang’s passing. Soon, she was capering around the platform, still in tree form, and glad to be alive.
The Horde ship returned at that point, with Saurfang the Elder having heard about his son falling to the Alliance. While Muradin seemed inclined to stop the elder orc from taking his son’s corpse for burial, King Varian Wrynn of Stormwind intervened. For once, it appeared as if the hope for peace between the Horde and the Alliance was not so fleeting.
Before the old orc leader left with his son’s corpse, Mal turned to Brendah. “Don’t you want your knives back?”
The little gnome made a face. “Pfft. I’ve got knives aplenty.”
“You sure? Hate to lose a good knife, much less two.” Mal observed.
“Shut up, night elf,” she hissed.
“They looked expensive,” Mal noted sadly.
“I hate you, Mal,” she said.
The night elf warrior grinned and sauntered away. “And you’re still a poopyhead!” Brendah shouted after him.
I thanked a human fletcher for providing me with enough iceblade arrows to fill my depleted magical quiver while, nearby, both Brutusk and Jarvisius chatted up an herbalist who provided them with herbal reagents for spellcasting. Even Brendah managed to refill vials of poison from a shady crewman.
Avierra was conferring with Muradin. “Any news concerning the healer we sent back to Light’s Hammer?”
The wizened dwarf shook his head. “Nay, lass. I’ve had no word from the Highlord. I suggest ye concentrate on the task at hand. No telling what’s inside those doors.”
Avierra nodded in agreement. “Have we figured out a way to open those doors?”
Muradin shook his head. “One of my goblin crewmen is thinking about explosives but there’s a danger of damaging the Skybreaker in the blast. I’m fairly sure the doors are booby trapped so I’ll be sending a team of… volunteers to check them out.”
The paladin cocked an eyebrow. “Volunteers?”
Muradin shrugged. “I’m pretty sure they’re SI:7 but the King doesn’t want me to blow their cover, apparently.”
“Of course,” Avierra remarked. “Wouldn’t want to do that…”
One of the crewmen came bursting through the door. “Captain! You’ll want to come see this.”
Muradin and Avierra rushed out on deck and were greeted with the sight of a lone undead orc standing before the now-open double doors. “For every Horde warrior you kill, for every Alliance dog that falls, the Scourge grows stronger. Even now, the Lich King’s val’kyr work to raise your fallen into Scourge. Come, let me show you the power that the Lich King has bestowed upon me.”
Captain Muradin’s amazement was clear. “A lone orc? Against the might of the Alliance?? CHARGE!!!” Five Alliance soldiers rushed in to engage the undead orc. They were all taken by an invisible shadowy force by the throat and raised high in the air as the orc laughed. The soldiers struggled in vain as Muradin stood in shock.
“Dwarves…” The orc chuckled.
“Engage the orc!” Avierra roared. Azmuth and Mal rushed in from opposite sides, having already decided not to take the direct route. Calimdan, Brendah, and Jizal were close behind, wicked claws and steel hammering into the lone undead guardian. Jarvisius and I hurled magic and arrow from a distance, one on each side. The healers were spread out in a fan-like formation to cover as much of the platform as possible.
“He’s getting stronger!” Azmuth warned as the orc seemed to shrug off blows that would have felled most normal undead monsters. “Not sure how long we can keep this up!”
Avierra clenched her teeth. It appeared as if the orc was feeding off the blood being shed on that platform. Crimson globes appeared to float off of us that were, in turn, absorbed by the undead orc. “He’s feeding off of us somehow!” Avierra shouted as she redoubled her healing efforts.
The orc gave a massive heave that sent our people sprawling and laughed. He raised both fists into the air and crimson lightning arced down from the sky. In their wake, a pair of blood beasts had appeared. Even as we proceeded to engage, Avierra gave a warning shout.
“The blood beasts will feed him further,” Avierra warned. “Don’t engage them. Let Jarvisius and Bladewisp take them from range!”
I quickly nodded at Jarvisius as I loosed a distracting shot at the nearest blood beast. It roared and came crawling toward me. While its movement speed was slow, I had to make sure to keep out of its reach. I dropped a freezing trap before leaping backward. The trap slowed the beast even more, while I fired three explosive shots in rapid succession. The explosive charges in the arrows burst into flame from within the beast, incinerating it from the inside out. On the other side of the platform, Jarvisius and his pet imp Zignar were likewise making short work of their own blood beast. I quickly turned back to firing at the undead orc.
“It’s working!” Hotohuri shouted, in tree form. Until you’ve seen a tree shout, you haven’t lived. “His wounds aren’t healing themselves!”
We redoubled our efforts. Twice more, he summoned a pair of blood beasts and both times, Jarvisius and I took them from range and destroyed them before they could energize him further. Avierra assisted on these, dropping a holy stun on both beasts to give us more time to kill them.
Mal swung a particularly vicious blow at the orc. Instead of shrugging it off like he did before, the orc appeared to stagger, opening him up to a few blows from Brendah.
“He’s weakening!” Mal crowed in triumph before the orc roared and fetched Mal a well-placed blow that sent the night elf warrior sprawling. He shook his head to clear the cobwebs before giving a shout and rejoining the fray.
The undead orc heaved, sending all our melee people sprawling for a bare split second. He pointed a finger at Hotohuri (in tree form) and his eyes seemed to burn with fury. “Mark of the Fallen!”
A brand magically appeared on Hotohuri’s trunk, seemingly burned into the very wood. As our melee assaulted the orc again, the orc smashed his fist into Mal. The night elf warrior staggered, blood flying from his nose and mouth. Hotohuri, yards away, felt the blow as if she was the one struck and fell to her knees, coughing and spitting blood.
Avierra noted this and her eyes widened. “Take him down now! Hotohuri’s gonna need heals!”
Hotohuri shook her head, leaves swaying in her tree form. “I can heal myself. Keep our people alive! Take that orc down.” Even as she spoke, more wounds seemed to magically appear on the bark of her tree form. She cast more healing spells on herself, barely keeping up with the pace of damage being inflicted.
Everyone redoubled their efforts. Jizal flicked me a hand signal, quickly echoed by Jarvisius, Calimdan and Brendah. Azmuth noted the signal and hissed, “Hysteria on Jizal.”
Jizal’s sword glowed a near-phosphorescent white, Jarvisius began to gather fel power for a massive fireball, Calimdan edged back slightly to give himself room to swing, Brendah dug deep into her bag of tricks and both knives came up sizzling with deadly poison. I nocked an arrow and fixed my eyes on the orc’s left eye, everything else became muted and time seemed to slow. Kill shot time, I thought to myself.
“NOW!” Avierra roared.
Jizal’s incandescent sword slammed into the orc’s back with savage holy power.
Jarvisius let loose with a massive fel fireball that engulfed the orc in green burning death.
Calimdan rushed in with a clawed swipe that struck at the orc’s legs, hamstringing him.
Brendah jammed both knives bubbling with deadly poison deep into the orc’s bowels.
My arrow flew straight and true, burying itself to the fletching in the orc’s left eye.
Everyone leaped back as the orc shuddered and fell, hitting the ground with a boom that shook the very walls of the citadel. The orc’s helm rolled away and we got a look at his face. “It’s Saurfang the Younger,” Brutusk noted. “He was taken at the Wrathgate, along with Highlord Bolvar.”
“At the very least, he now rests in peace,” Avierra said.
The mark on Hotohuri faded away upon Saurfang’s passing. Soon, she was capering around the platform, still in tree form, and glad to be alive.
The Horde ship returned at that point, with Saurfang the Elder having heard about his son falling to the Alliance. While Muradin seemed inclined to stop the elder orc from taking his son’s corpse for burial, King Varian Wrynn of Stormwind intervened. For once, it appeared as if the hope for peace between the Horde and the Alliance was not so fleeting.
Before the old orc leader left with his son’s corpse, Mal turned to Brendah. “Don’t you want your knives back?”
The little gnome made a face. “Pfft. I’ve got knives aplenty.”
“You sure? Hate to lose a good knife, much less two.” Mal observed.
“Shut up, night elf,” she hissed.
“They looked expensive,” Mal noted sadly.
“I hate you, Mal,” she said.
The night elf warrior grinned and sauntered away. “And you’re still a poopyhead!” Brendah shouted after him.
Monday, February 22, 2010
Bladewisp's Diary (Entry #5)
I shook my head wearily. “That was a close call. If she had re-animated and empowered 2 more of those minions, we would’ve been overwhelmed.”
“Good thing she didn’t then,” Brutusk remarked cheerfully as he rummaged around in his bag of herbs.
“On the platform, everyone,” Avierra instructed. “If SI:7 intelligence is to be believed, this should take us to the Skybreaker. The airship will then take us to the Upper Spire.” The platform’s regular rise and drop made it easy to clamber on from the Oratory of the Damned and hop off at the top. Once there, we came upon heavy fighting between Alliance and Horde soldiers.
“Orgrim’s Hammer has already left!” One of the Alliance officers screamed at us over the howling wind. “It’s a three-way between us, some of the Horde soldiers, and the Scourge. The Skybreaker is moored off to the left. You’ll need to fight your way past the skirmishes.”
Mal whistled as he observed the skirmishes ahead. “This should be interesting. They haven’t spotted us yet. We can drop on them like a hurricane and they’ll never know what hit them.”
Jizal nodded in agreement. “I like your plan, Mal.”
The night elf warrior smirked. “You always like my plans.”
Jizal shrugged. “We’re still standing here talking?”
With cries and howls, we descended on the fighting like screaming banshees, crashing into the Horde soldiers and breaking through their lines like madmen. Our healers stayed back, making sure we got healed when the fighting got too confusing. I was firing 3 arrows at a time, each arrow hitting a Horde soldier. I reveled in the chaos of it all. It felt good to let loose.
In the middle of the fighting, Mal and Jizal stood back to back, swords arcing up and down in silvery lines of glimmering death, ending in trails of crimson on the icy stone. Avierra took the outliers, supported by Azmuth and Calimdan. They made short work of the Horde healers, quickly sending them to their deaths.
We veered left and came upon another knot of fighting. Mal leaped high and brought his massive sword crashing down, cracking the ice-ridden stone and hurling soldiers aside, Horde and Alliance both. Jizal followed at Mal’s heels. “For the Alliance!” The paladin screamed, rallying the Alliance troops, still dazed from Mal’s charge.
The soldiers roared and pushed forward, bringing swords and maces to bear. The Horde fell back, stunned. I grabbed a curved shield off a fallen soldier and rode it down the slick ice stone, firing arrows into the Horde massed on the steps. At the last moment, I leaped off, fired 3 more arrows, and saw the shield fly off the steps and embed itself in the throat of a wide-eyed orc warrior.
I spotted a Horde healer near the back of the lines trying to get away. An aimed shot later, and he was lying on the cold stone, choking on his own blood with one of my iceblade arrows sticking out of his throat.
“Not a very honorable kill, Wips,” Adialetha noted.
“This isn’t a very honorable war, human,” I noted irritably, firing off another arrow. “If need be, I’ll slaughter them like animals if that’s what it takes.”
The human priestess shook her head sadly, as if in regret. Her eyes suddenly widened and she began to choke. I stared at the black-fletched arrow sticking out of her throat. That was a kill shot, no mistake. I looked around wildly and spotted a Horde troll archer taking a bead on me. I snapped a shot at him, forcing him to duck down behind a wall. “Healer down!” I shouted even as I leaped to the left, keeping my eye on the archer. Our priestess had sunk to her knees, blood pulsing onto the stone.
My eyes narrowed into slits as I drew another arrow. The troll had lost sight of me and was taking aim at other targets. As soon as his head cleared the wall, I released my shot. It sped straight and true, slamming into his head with the force only a longbow could deliver at that range. His head burst open like an overripe melon. One shot, one kill.
Brutusk and Hotohuri were already at Adialetha’s side, doing what they could to heal the extensive damage wrought by the kill shot. “This is beyond our skills,” Brutusk admitted sadly. “She needs to be sent back to Light’s Hammer. Perhaps the Highlord will have healers who can bring her back.”
Mal whipped out a strange-looking device. “This is Rage On mercenary company,” he spoke into the device tersely. “We have a healer down in need of evacuation. Can you assist?”
The response was immediate. “Place the device on your healer and step back.”
Mal did as instructed and a bright shimmer engulfed the corpse of our priestess. In a flash, she was gone. Hopefully, to someplace where she could be brought back to life. But for now, she was lost to us.
Avierra turned to Jarvisius. “We’ll need a teleportation gate,” Avierra was saying. “I’ll have to take over Adialetha’s healing duties. That means Azmuth and Mal will be taking point. We’ll be bringing Brendah in now.”
Azmuth nodded. “Having a rogue will make it easier to find and disarm any traps.” Brendah was our resident expert on all things dishonest and shady including, but not limited to, poisons, lockpicking, booby traps, and other such nefarious devices. She was a gnome who’d grown up in the deeper recesses of Ironforge. We always made sure to check our gold whenever she was around, but she was a solid member of our crew, capable and dependable.
Jarvisius cast the teleportation gate spell and, in a matter of a few seconds, Brendah arrived, an impish grin on her face and a well-balanced knife in each hand. “Hey guys, about time you brought me in here. Good thing I wore extra clothes. It’s cold!”
Jizal was listening to an Alliance officer off to one side. “Thank you for the assistance,” the massive draenei was saying. “We were outnumbered before you arrived. Captain Muradin is aboard the Skybreaker and waiting for you. We will guard your rear.”
Avierra nodded curtly. “Let’s move out, people!”
We encountered an undead frost dragon blocking the way to the Skybreaker. It roared its defiance at our tiny company. Azmuth and Mal glanced at each other before drawing swords, roaring in turn, and rushing in to engage. Calimdan, Brendah, and Jizal were close at their heels while Jarvisius and I stayed with the healers. The undead monster gave a final ululating scream before crumbling to dust in the wake of our assault.
We ran to the waiting skyship moored on our left. “About time ye got here,” Captain Muradin remarked as he signaled for the lines to be released. He was a stalwart dwarf, one of the longest residents of Northrend from the Alliance side. “Let’s be off then. We’ve got a meetin’ with destiny. Hold on to yer hats!”
As the skyship’s engines shuddered with power, the Skybreaker rose gracefully in the chill air. “What in the blazes is that? Grab me spyglass, crewman.”
Muradin squinted into his spyglass before stiffening. “Horde, sailin’ in fast and hot!”
A goblin was already scrambling among the crew, distributing rocket packs in case the battle got ugly. Avierra was already issuing orders.
“I want Bladewisp and Jarvisius manning those cannons,” she was saying tersely. “The rest of us will defend the Skybreaker. The Horde will definitely send their people across. We cut them down and make sure to defend those cannons. The faster we bring down Orgrim’s Hammer, the sooner we’ll be able to make our way to the Upper Spire.”
Jarvisius and I were already taking our places at the cannons, testing the controls and adjusting the aiming reticles. As soon as the Horde skyship was in range, we commenced firing. The massive boom of the cannons was punctuated by the screams of Horde soldiers who had teleported onto our ship. Mal and the rest of the company were obviously taking care of business.
In the distance we could vaguely hear the Horde captain shouting. “We’re taking hull damage. Get a battle mage out here to knock out those cannons!” A blood elf frost mage ran out and lifted both hands into the air, incanting a freezing spell on our cannons. In short order, our cannons were useless.
“Az, we’re taking Bladewisp, Jarvisius, and Calimdan over there and taking out that mage!” Avierra screamed as she engaged her jetpack. I quickly engaged my jetpack and sailed over onto the Horde ship. I targeted the frost mage and released an arrow before even landing. From the corner of my eye, I saw Jarvisius shoot a green-tinged fireball at the mage even as Calimdan, in cat form, careened into the mage in a direct assault. Azmuth was keeping the Horde captain, a hideous orc wielding a massive axe, busy with Avierra’s healing support.
“Mage down!” Calimdan shouted as he engaged his jetpack to jump back. I did the same and was quickly back in my cannoneer seat shooting cannonballs at the Horde ship.
This sequence happened a few more times before the Horde ship disengaged, having taken too much hull damage to stay in the sky.
“I hate sailing,” Hotohuri was saying as she shimmered into night elf form.
“Technically, we were flying,” Jizal reminded her.
She shrugged. “Same difference.”
“Good thing she didn’t then,” Brutusk remarked cheerfully as he rummaged around in his bag of herbs.
“On the platform, everyone,” Avierra instructed. “If SI:7 intelligence is to be believed, this should take us to the Skybreaker. The airship will then take us to the Upper Spire.” The platform’s regular rise and drop made it easy to clamber on from the Oratory of the Damned and hop off at the top. Once there, we came upon heavy fighting between Alliance and Horde soldiers.
“Orgrim’s Hammer has already left!” One of the Alliance officers screamed at us over the howling wind. “It’s a three-way between us, some of the Horde soldiers, and the Scourge. The Skybreaker is moored off to the left. You’ll need to fight your way past the skirmishes.”
Mal whistled as he observed the skirmishes ahead. “This should be interesting. They haven’t spotted us yet. We can drop on them like a hurricane and they’ll never know what hit them.”
Jizal nodded in agreement. “I like your plan, Mal.”
The night elf warrior smirked. “You always like my plans.”
Jizal shrugged. “We’re still standing here talking?”
With cries and howls, we descended on the fighting like screaming banshees, crashing into the Horde soldiers and breaking through their lines like madmen. Our healers stayed back, making sure we got healed when the fighting got too confusing. I was firing 3 arrows at a time, each arrow hitting a Horde soldier. I reveled in the chaos of it all. It felt good to let loose.
In the middle of the fighting, Mal and Jizal stood back to back, swords arcing up and down in silvery lines of glimmering death, ending in trails of crimson on the icy stone. Avierra took the outliers, supported by Azmuth and Calimdan. They made short work of the Horde healers, quickly sending them to their deaths.
We veered left and came upon another knot of fighting. Mal leaped high and brought his massive sword crashing down, cracking the ice-ridden stone and hurling soldiers aside, Horde and Alliance both. Jizal followed at Mal’s heels. “For the Alliance!” The paladin screamed, rallying the Alliance troops, still dazed from Mal’s charge.
The soldiers roared and pushed forward, bringing swords and maces to bear. The Horde fell back, stunned. I grabbed a curved shield off a fallen soldier and rode it down the slick ice stone, firing arrows into the Horde massed on the steps. At the last moment, I leaped off, fired 3 more arrows, and saw the shield fly off the steps and embed itself in the throat of a wide-eyed orc warrior.
I spotted a Horde healer near the back of the lines trying to get away. An aimed shot later, and he was lying on the cold stone, choking on his own blood with one of my iceblade arrows sticking out of his throat.
“Not a very honorable kill, Wips,” Adialetha noted.
“This isn’t a very honorable war, human,” I noted irritably, firing off another arrow. “If need be, I’ll slaughter them like animals if that’s what it takes.”
The human priestess shook her head sadly, as if in regret. Her eyes suddenly widened and she began to choke. I stared at the black-fletched arrow sticking out of her throat. That was a kill shot, no mistake. I looked around wildly and spotted a Horde troll archer taking a bead on me. I snapped a shot at him, forcing him to duck down behind a wall. “Healer down!” I shouted even as I leaped to the left, keeping my eye on the archer. Our priestess had sunk to her knees, blood pulsing onto the stone.
My eyes narrowed into slits as I drew another arrow. The troll had lost sight of me and was taking aim at other targets. As soon as his head cleared the wall, I released my shot. It sped straight and true, slamming into his head with the force only a longbow could deliver at that range. His head burst open like an overripe melon. One shot, one kill.
Brutusk and Hotohuri were already at Adialetha’s side, doing what they could to heal the extensive damage wrought by the kill shot. “This is beyond our skills,” Brutusk admitted sadly. “She needs to be sent back to Light’s Hammer. Perhaps the Highlord will have healers who can bring her back.”
Mal whipped out a strange-looking device. “This is Rage On mercenary company,” he spoke into the device tersely. “We have a healer down in need of evacuation. Can you assist?”
The response was immediate. “Place the device on your healer and step back.”
Mal did as instructed and a bright shimmer engulfed the corpse of our priestess. In a flash, she was gone. Hopefully, to someplace where she could be brought back to life. But for now, she was lost to us.
Avierra turned to Jarvisius. “We’ll need a teleportation gate,” Avierra was saying. “I’ll have to take over Adialetha’s healing duties. That means Azmuth and Mal will be taking point. We’ll be bringing Brendah in now.”
Azmuth nodded. “Having a rogue will make it easier to find and disarm any traps.” Brendah was our resident expert on all things dishonest and shady including, but not limited to, poisons, lockpicking, booby traps, and other such nefarious devices. She was a gnome who’d grown up in the deeper recesses of Ironforge. We always made sure to check our gold whenever she was around, but she was a solid member of our crew, capable and dependable.
Jarvisius cast the teleportation gate spell and, in a matter of a few seconds, Brendah arrived, an impish grin on her face and a well-balanced knife in each hand. “Hey guys, about time you brought me in here. Good thing I wore extra clothes. It’s cold!”
Jizal was listening to an Alliance officer off to one side. “Thank you for the assistance,” the massive draenei was saying. “We were outnumbered before you arrived. Captain Muradin is aboard the Skybreaker and waiting for you. We will guard your rear.”
Avierra nodded curtly. “Let’s move out, people!”
We encountered an undead frost dragon blocking the way to the Skybreaker. It roared its defiance at our tiny company. Azmuth and Mal glanced at each other before drawing swords, roaring in turn, and rushing in to engage. Calimdan, Brendah, and Jizal were close at their heels while Jarvisius and I stayed with the healers. The undead monster gave a final ululating scream before crumbling to dust in the wake of our assault.
We ran to the waiting skyship moored on our left. “About time ye got here,” Captain Muradin remarked as he signaled for the lines to be released. He was a stalwart dwarf, one of the longest residents of Northrend from the Alliance side. “Let’s be off then. We’ve got a meetin’ with destiny. Hold on to yer hats!”
As the skyship’s engines shuddered with power, the Skybreaker rose gracefully in the chill air. “What in the blazes is that? Grab me spyglass, crewman.”
Muradin squinted into his spyglass before stiffening. “Horde, sailin’ in fast and hot!”
A goblin was already scrambling among the crew, distributing rocket packs in case the battle got ugly. Avierra was already issuing orders.
“I want Bladewisp and Jarvisius manning those cannons,” she was saying tersely. “The rest of us will defend the Skybreaker. The Horde will definitely send their people across. We cut them down and make sure to defend those cannons. The faster we bring down Orgrim’s Hammer, the sooner we’ll be able to make our way to the Upper Spire.”
Jarvisius and I were already taking our places at the cannons, testing the controls and adjusting the aiming reticles. As soon as the Horde skyship was in range, we commenced firing. The massive boom of the cannons was punctuated by the screams of Horde soldiers who had teleported onto our ship. Mal and the rest of the company were obviously taking care of business.
In the distance we could vaguely hear the Horde captain shouting. “We’re taking hull damage. Get a battle mage out here to knock out those cannons!” A blood elf frost mage ran out and lifted both hands into the air, incanting a freezing spell on our cannons. In short order, our cannons were useless.
“Az, we’re taking Bladewisp, Jarvisius, and Calimdan over there and taking out that mage!” Avierra screamed as she engaged her jetpack. I quickly engaged my jetpack and sailed over onto the Horde ship. I targeted the frost mage and released an arrow before even landing. From the corner of my eye, I saw Jarvisius shoot a green-tinged fireball at the mage even as Calimdan, in cat form, careened into the mage in a direct assault. Azmuth was keeping the Horde captain, a hideous orc wielding a massive axe, busy with Avierra’s healing support.
“Mage down!” Calimdan shouted as he engaged his jetpack to jump back. I did the same and was quickly back in my cannoneer seat shooting cannonballs at the Horde ship.
This sequence happened a few more times before the Horde ship disengaged, having taken too much hull damage to stay in the sky.
“I hate sailing,” Hotohuri was saying as she shimmered into night elf form.
“Technically, we were flying,” Jizal reminded her.
She shrugged. “Same difference.”
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