(2022-10-2) Demon Lord of the Blasted Lands: Part 1

Details

Author:	Alli
Summary:	Torvald, Dane, Anareline, Caspis, Imrolane, Linwel, Jenzelle, Nunuzac and Kitharian meet up at Nethergarde Keep to help deal with a lingering demonic presence in the Blasted Lands.
Rating:	T for Teen

Caspis snaps out of his reverie and looks around for a moment with a vague, searching expression, as though trying to remember where he is and why.
Anareline catches his eye, and says, "Demon influences in the Blasted Lands," as if she's answering a question.
Caspis makes a soft, affirmative sound.
Kitharian looks around. She pauses when she sees the gathered people. "You're all from Cobalt Company?"
Linwel looms.
[Anareline]: I am not, but I know several of the members. There was a message sent to the Circle and the Sentinels, I am given to understand, as well.
Caspis belatedly hears Kitharian's question, and turns to her as though processing it..
[Kitharian]: Kitharian du Lac. The captain said I was to meet Anareline here…?
Anareline nods at Kitharian.
Linwel chirps and waddles closer.
Atley marches up to the group, helmet tucked under his arm. He grunts in greeting, glancing between the others.
[Anareline]: I am Anareline.
Caspis speaks in fluent but lightly accented Common. "I am not with Cobalt Company, but I am a friend of the organization and very interested in it."
Torvald comes barreling into the keep on a horse that looks like its ready to sit down and make harumphing noises. "Woah there!" He smiles broadly at the people he nearly ran over.
Kitharian looks relieved. She inclines her head respectfully. "Ma'am."
[Caspis]: Caspis Silvershade, of the Cenarion— Expedition.
Atley faintly raises a brow at Torvald, leaning forward to peer at his horse with another small grunt.
Kitharian nods at Caspis. She has your information.
Jenzelle hurries forward towards the gathering people. She's in the right place, surely.
An absolutely massive armored Elekk waits nearby, unattended.
Caspis bows before Linwel.
Atley flicks his gaze to the elekk, then back to the others before clearing his throat. "Dane Atley. I'm with the company."
[Anareline]: I have no affiliation, but my children are in Cobalt Company and my shalan is in the Cenarion… Expedition.
[Caspis]: Greetings again.
Kitharian tries not to stare at the wildkin.
Caspis seems strangely NOT unnerved by the feathery beast.
[Torvald]: ~+TORVALD FAUNTLEROY, GENTLEMAN ADVENTURER!+~ At your service.
Linwel bows very politely to Caspis.
Atley lifts a bushy brow at Anareline. "Your children?"
Anareline nods greetings to the wildkin, as if nothing is out of the ordinary.
Torvald dismounts with a flourish.
Caspis blinks at Torvald.
[Jenzelle]: I-I'm with the company as well. Jenzelle.
Caspis bows before Jenzelle.
[Anareline]: Yes. *Ana turns to Dane.* Perhaps you have met Cellara or Celaven.
Kitharian starts to say something to Atley, but is interrupted by a flashing neon sign and looks to Torvald first.
Atley grunts. "P'raps I … " he cuts off and briefly side-eyes the wildkin. "Have."
[Torvald]: Oh, yes! Celaven, excellent chap. Very agile around raptors.
Linwel points a clawed finger at himself. "Lin-wel."
[Kitharian]: Mr. Atley. I hear you'll be Sir Atley by this evening. Congratulations.
Kitharian eyes the talking wildkin.
Atley respectfully inclines his head. "Mm, much obliged, Dame."
Torvald turns at the sound of Linwel speaking. "I say, did anyone else hear that horned chicken speaking or have I been out in the sun too long?"
Jenzelle seems delighted by the wildkin. She smiles at them.
Anareline mouths 'agile around raptors' and shrugs.
Linwel chirps innocently.
[Atley]: Aye, wager Linwel here's one of ours.
Kitharian looks relieved that someone else asked.
Torvald nods, and pours water over his head without preamble.
Atley says in response to Torvald as he openly peers over Linwel.
[Anareline]: They're a druid, I expect. *She looks at Caspis* A friend of yours?
[Kitharian]: Please call me Kit. Kitharian if you're feeling long-winded.
Caspis looks from each person to the next with an expression of gentle bewilderment.
[Linwel]: Cco-balt. Ello?
Atley looks back to Kitharian and nods. "Kit 'tis, then."
[Atley]: Aye, we're Cobalt. You've been asked to muster here, then?
[Torvald]: Kitharian it is then! *Torvald says in a cheery, long winded voice.*
Kitharian checks the level of sangfroid in the area and decides to affect the same Joe Cool attitude.
Linwel makes some cheerful whistle-chirping noises that might be a yes. Might not be.
[Anareline]: From what I'm given to understand, we have a… sin'dorei contact.
Nunuzac barks. Woof woof!
[Atley]: Mm, s'right, some blood elf.
Caspis seems less cool than… perhaps, slightly drowsy.
Atley faintly raises his brows as the spirit wolf arrives.
[Linwel]: Rururu?
Caspis does manage to frown at the word "sin'dorei" however. It's almost like having Elo here!
Nunuzac shimmers and fades a bit. "Wow, everyone is here! I didn't miss killing demons."
[Nunuzac]: How lucky.
[Atley]: Be wary for some sort of trap. I think we'll be safe, but there's no proper way of knowing.
[Anareline]: A sin'dorei who has information about demonic influences in this land, so we may do well to at least listen to them. Shall we go and see what they have to say?
Atley nods to Anareline. "Aye, let's."
[Torvald]: Well now, that's a trick!
Nunuzac giggles a bit then looks up. When she notices Linwel is a moonkin her huge eyes shimmer with awe.
The wooden steps creak under Linwel's weight. It's fine. Don't worry about it.
Caspis glares angrily at Ambassador Ardalan.
Atley eyes Ambassador Ardalan up and down.
Ambassador Ardalan looks over the assembled team. "The Alliance has been prompt in answering my call. I hope that you are truly willing to look past your differences and fight a common foe."
Atley tongues the inside of his cheek and grunts.
Caspis bares his fangs slightly at the Ambassador. He's … got some fangs on him.
Kitharian pauses one pace behind and to the right of Anareline.
[Anareline]: I would not refuse to listen merely because of the messenger.
Jenzelle nods along. Setting asside differences is exactly what she's here to do.
Nunuzac folds her hands and stands politely, beaming at Ardalan a little too intently.
[Caspis]: Mm.
Ambassador Ardalan says: Then I shall get right to it. The true power in these lands continues to grow in strength and number while the Alliance and the Horde continue to squabble over scorched earth.
Linwel moves over to stand right in front of the ambassador and then plunks down into a sitting position.
Torvald bows cheerily to Ambassador Ardalan.
Atley takes a step closer, the wood underneath creaking under the weight of him and his armor.
Caspis narrows his eyes at Ambassador Ardalan with the look of a man who hates it when people he dislikes are right.
Ambassador Ardalan says: Should we continue to fight one another in these lands, only to be routed one day by the armies of the Burning Legion? It is futile. And that day may be coming sooner than you think, if we do not take steps to prevent it.
Caspis sighs at Ambassador Ardalan.
[Torvald]: Taking steps are the first step, as they say!
[Anareline]: What, exactly, is the point, then?
Ambassador Ardalan says: I would ask you to speak with a ghost near the border of the Swamp of Sorrows, a fallen hero of the Horde. He knows the truth behind these Blasted Lands.
Atley scoffs lightly, eye growing half lidded.
[Torvald]: A ghost! Fascinating!
Linwel makes a chirping sound that sounds oddly like an exclamation point would sound like if it had a sound.
[Anareline]: A Horde ghost. Interesting.
Caspis looks like he wants to bite something.
Anareline looks around to the others. "Shall we, then?"
[Jenzelle]: Why is he still…around? The ghost, I mean. Will we be able to help him pass on?
Caspis sighs resignedly.
[Kitharian]: Do we care?
Linwel gets up. "Rururu…"
Atley grunts, and briefly peers at Jenzelle.
Caspis seems to have no issue with endless spiraling ramps, for some reason.
[Jenzelle]: Well, if his battle is over, no one deserves to be stuck here.
Atley grumbles lowly.
[Kitharian]: It's an orc. They want him to pass on, let them deal with it.
[Atley]: Fallen 'hero of the Horde,' mm? I'll provide a translation. Slain butcher of unarmed women and children. Let's have a closer look.
Anareline looks like she was about to speak, but she simply nods at Dane.
[Nunuzac]: Maybe they cool off a bit when they die? Not all of the orcs were so bad before they were all bad.
The giant elekk was waiting outside the tower. It follows along.
Caspis absently follows Anareline in a way that seems more habitual than anything else.
Torvald cheerfully follows Dane. He seems like he knows what he's doing.
Atley eyes Fallen Hero of the Horde up and down.
The orc ghost turns his spectral eyes over each of the approaching team in turn. "The Alliance wishes to assist?"
Caspis peers at Fallen Hero of the Horde searchingly.
[Atley]: Somming'. Speak.
[Anareline]: It depends on what you're asking us to assist with.
Kitharian stares at the wildkin on an elekk.
Linwel slides down.
Ambassador Ardalan says: Demons? Is that good enough?
Kitharian stops staring at the wildkin not on an elekk.
[Torvald]: I do love a good fight against demons!
[Atley]: Wager it'll have to be.
Jenzelle says a quietvery quiet considering her company prayer for the orc.
Linwel growls at the mention of demons.
Atley leans off to the side and spits on the ground before returning his attention to the hero.
Fallen Hero of the Horde says: I thought to never see this day again. A day in which the Alliance fights side by side with the Horde against a common enemy. It shall be… we will unite.
Atley pauses at that and faintly raises his eyes brows, appraising the Fallen Hero more closely.
Fallen Hero of the Horde says: Before we may continue, you must hear my story.
Caspis tilts his head warily at the orc.
Caspis peacefully listens.
Fallen Hero of the Horde says: Would you believe that in my darkest hour, at the apex of my being, I failed. As I fled from the wanton destruction of the forces that overwhelmed us, the only sounds I could hear were the screams of my soldiers and the rapid beat of my own heart. A short while later, I returned to the Blasted Lands in hopes of rescuing my men and restoring my honor. Instead I was captured and beaten until dead. What I found out during my inquisition and subsequent torture was horrifying.
Kitharian listens. Her charger does that glowing thing that some spirits do. Its neck is arched and it paws the ground. Why do horses paw the ground and not hoof it? No one knows.
Fallen Hero of the Horde says: My captors were cruel beyond measure. They would alternate between Lieutenant Kirith and I, torturing one while the other watched. During a lull in the activity of an especially cruel day, Kirith told me what had happened to my men and a plan he had been formulating to free them from their masters. They suffered a fate far worse than death, or even the pain Kirith and I endured.
Anareline listens, face impassive.
[Anareline]: What could be worse than death?
Fallen Hero of the Horde says: Neither you nor I could possibly imagine the pain an individual suffers when their soul is ripped from their body. They are not dead and by no means are they alive. Instead, they walk the land, servants of those that bind them to this world. Lord Razelikh, demonic overlord of these lands, enslaved them all. Nine he took for his own, placing stones of binding near the Dark Portal. The remaining nine were divided up between his subordinates.
Linwel makes sympathetic cooing noises.
Nunuzac blinks a bit. "Oh, that sounds bad. Oh." She winces when the spirit describes the pain of various forms of soul ripping. "Yes, this is one of the problems with warlocks."
[Nunuzac]: When they take a break from making the land come apart, always with the painful and bad soul stealing.
Anareline nods at him.
[Anareline]: Subordinates?
Fallen Hero of the Horde says: The archmage Allistarj of the Shadowsworn was granted three. Lady Sevine, warlock of the Shadowsworn was also granted three. The remaining three were given to Grol the Destroyer, lord of the Dreadmaul ogres of these blasted lands. You see, without a soul, the body cannot be killed. The remnants of my men are now indestructible fighting units. Thankfully, they are bound in how far they can travel by the stones of binding.
Caspis seems to be quickly losing track of the details of the story, his eyes glazing over.
Kitharian 's charger shows every evidence of aggression toward the orc, except the actual physical attacking part.
[Anareline]: What are the stones of binding?
Fallen Hero of the Horde says: They are exactly what you need to destroy in order to free the regiment! As I had told you earlier, Kirith had a plan. Each of the servants has a weakness. Punish their physical form in proximity of their stones until they are near the state of disintegration. It is at that point, and at that point alone, that the stones of binding are vulnerable to attack. You must hurry to destroy the stones, however, as once the enslaved regain their composure, they will be invulnerable to harm once more. Fight hard and die with honor, Alliance.
Torvald is nodding along, a serious expression on his face. He strokes his mustache. "Hmm, yes. Rocks can be useful that way."
Atley quietly gnashes his teeth as he listens, face as hard as ever, but he does offer a small nod before looking to the south.
Imrolane strolls up and joins the others casually like she's been there all along.
Linwel bows formally to Imrolane.
Caspis makes a soft humming sound in Imrolane's general direction that might be a greeting, without quite looking at her.
Anareline looks at Torvald in surprise. "Do you often bind the spirits of your enemies to stones, that they may serve as invincible fighting units?
[Torvald]: Not today! *Torvald says in a cheery voice.*
Anareline narrows her eyes at Torvald, possible soul-ripper.
[Atley]: He's jesting… I wager. Let's go slay some demons.
Torvald doesn't look like he knows the first thing about soul ripping, but who can say. "Oh, using them myself? Nay, friend. But I have seen something like it done with a trogg and some strings once!"
Atley briefly eyes Torvald.
Jenzelle looks relieved. "We are going to help, then."
Caspis nods at Nunuzac.
Kitharian backs her steed away a few steps.
[Anareline]: Yes, let's help set them free. It will hinder our enemies.
Linwel climbs back on her elekk. She is still a moonkin in moonkin form, because elekks are big.
[Atley]: I don't need any orc, dead or alive, to convince me to send those things back to the abyss that spawned them.
Anareline's eyes widen, and she has no answer to that one.
[Atley]: I say we split into teams. I'll take the moonkin, Torvald here, and you.
Atley looks to Nunuzac and nods.
Linwel chirps! Yes, the moonkin. That's her!
[Nunuzac]: Of course! What do I call you, shield man? I am Nunuzac.
[Atley]: Aye, you.
[Atley]: Dane or Atley shall do fine.
[Linwel]: Lin-wel.
[Anareline]: That sounds good. I will take these two human women, and the others of my kind.
[Nunuzac]: That is two different names, but if you say so.
[Caspis]: I follow Anareline. *In Darnassian, to the white cat:* Shan'do, with me.
[Torvald]: Daneoratley, let us ride!
Atley grunts.
Imrolane bobs her head.
[Atley]: We'll stick to the western mountains and make our way south.
[Nunuzac]: I make lightning very good. We go.

First, team Dane, Linwel, Nunuzac, and Torvald…

Atley grunts.
[Torvald]: Lightning! There's another trick!
[Linwel]: Starrrs.
[Torvald]: Say, you were a dog earlier, yes? I wasn't just out in the sun too long? Brant here hasn't been minding the time as well as he used to.
Brant the Horse seems to be annoyed, but maybe he's just a horse.
Linwel slides off the elekk.
[Atley]: I hope you lot aren't 'fraid of a bit of bloodshed.
[Nunuzac]: Oh! This wild kin speaks. And yes, I know how to do a wolf shape. It's fast and sneaky!
Linwel removes a length of vine from one of her antlers and shakes it in the air.
[Torvald]: Well! Fascinating!
[Atley]: Can't say I've fought 'longside a wildkin 'fore…
[Nunuzac]: Easy, lightning makes no blood.
[Linwel]: Rurururu…
[Torvald]: It does make good mushroom cooking, though. Lightning.
[Atley]: Let's have at th … them.
Atley briefly side-eyes Linwel again out of faint confusion before just running in.
[Linwel]: Rrrrock.
[Torvald]: It would be interesting to have it done on purpose this time, yes!
Nunuzac promptly shoots a crackling bolt at an ogre.
Atley nods to Linwel. "Aye, this seems to be one."
[Torvald]: Oh, yes! This is definitely a rock!
[Torvald]: Very good.
[Linwel]: Lurrrre. To rrock.
[Atley]: Nunuzac, d'have you handle this.
[Atley]: You *are* the shaman.
Torvald immediately pats the rock.
Nunuzac inclines her head to the stone.
Atley whistles at Servant of Grol.
[Atley]: Oi!
[Torvald]: Hello, there!
[Nunuzac]: It is silent. I think it is unhappy to be used to bother souls.
Atley grunts. "They *are* slaves."
[Torvald]: Well, now.
Atley nods to Nunuzac. "You'll be charge of doing this from here on."
Linwel makes a triumphant sort of fanfare whistle.
Nunuzac rests her hand to the stone until it shimmers and breaks, the determined ghost falling along with the shards.
[Nunuzac]: There, now they are both less unhappy, because they are gone.
[Atley]: Death'll bring that sort'f peace, I wager.
[Torvald]: The rock was unhappy as well?
[Nunuzac]: Oh yes, they can become quite upset when mistreated.
Torvald gently pats the rock. Poor unhappy rock. There, there.
[Nunuzac]: Just like you or me.
[Atley]: I'll take your word on that, milady.
Linwel patpats the rock after Torvald.
[Atley]: You ready to make this one behave, then?
Nunuzac nods.
[Nunuzac]: So unwilling to go.
Atley grunts.
[Torvald]: Freedom! As they say.
[Linwel]: Frrrree.
[Atley]: Aye. Somming'.
[Atley]: Let's poke 'bit about here. Ought to be another one we can wretch away from 'Grol.'
Nunuzac nods with a look of relief, seeming to find some encouragement in the Servant's cry when released.
Torvald looks like all his does is poke about places.
[Atley]: Who cares to see wot's in here?
Atley gestures to the chest.
[Nunuzac]: They leave supplies? They don't use anymore.
Atley grunts at Nunuzac and steps over to sift through some of the crates.
Torvald immediately goes to inspect the box. Heedless of anything that might be inside.
Linwel pokes at a barrel which has a skull on it. It's probably fine.
[Atley]: Likely wot' the ogres've stolen from caravans.
[Atley]: Let's bugger off, to the south. There may be some of Grol's there.
[Torvald]: Juice, it seems. *He shakes a bottle experimentally, listening closely.* Still good. *He says with way too much confidence.*
Linwel clambers back up on the elekk.
[Atley]: Mind yourselves in this *accursed* place.
[Torvald]: Oh, I always mind myself in accursed places! Never know what an acurse will do to you.
[Atley]: Too right.
[Linwel]: Ruru…
[Atley]: Wot's that? Wot's 'Ruru?'
[Linwel]: Sound.
[Atley]: Aye, but wot's it mean?
[Linwel]: Means…
[Nunuzac]: Ruru… like… I know this word. You rue something when it is bad.
[Atley]: Mm, that's it, then?
[Torvald]: Rue the day, as they say!
[Linwel]: Make… sound when…
[Linwel]: Hu…mor?
[Atley]: There's another rock, there. Let's butcher these cultists.
Linwel says something in Darnassian.
[Nunuzac]: blasts an instant cluster of crushing ice upside a shadow weaver's chin, shattering it into a shower of chilly fragments.
[Atley]: Properl done.
Torvald makes the same whistle Linwel did before.
Nunuzac casts about for the cursing stone until she finds it.
[Atley]: S'press on, up the hill here.
[Atley]: S'handy we've brought along a shaman.
[Nunuzac]: It becomes sand and so do you.
Atley peers at the altar.
[Torvald]: Aren't we all sand, in the end, as they say.
[Atley]: I've not seen one of these, since…
[Nunuzac]: It's handy to be a shaman. I recommend it.
Atley shakes his head.
Nunuzac peers up at the great statues.
[Atley]: Wager I'll leave that to you, milady. My trust's in the sword and shield.
[Torvald]: How does one become a shaman? Is there dirt involved?
Linwel points at the rock.
[Atley]: Born with it or somming', mm?
Nunuzac darts past the skirmishers for the stone.
[Nunuzac]: I had to learn it!
[Atley]: S'mount up.
[Linwel]: Learrrn. Stud-dy.
[Atley]: And how'd a wildkin get their bloody hands on an elekk?
[Torvald]: Had to learn how to be born a shaman? Well, that's another neat trick!
Atley inquires harshly, but he says everything harshly.
[Linwel]: Tamed.
Atley eyes Linwel up and down.
[Atley]: Can you speak to beasts?
Linwel pats her elekk's horn. "Trrusty."
Linwel nod nod nods.
Atley grunts. "That'd do it then, I wager. S'keep moving south…" he casts one dark glance at the Altar.
Linwel does not clarify whether they can understand her or not, but she can certainly speak to them.
[Atley]: Ogres. First you smell them, then you step in them.
[Torvald]: They do say that.
Linwel beelines directly for a plant.
[Nunuzac]: Did everything here come from the other side, from Draenor?
Linwel cuts off a leaf with their claws and weaves it into their antlers.
[Nunuzac]: Where…
[Torvald]: From where now?
[Linwel]: Rrrock?
Atley shakes his head, but pauses. "Not all f'it. The ogres, aye, and some of the beasts p'raps."
[Nunuzac]: There!
Torvald seems very familiar with running into random caves.
[Nunuzac]: Did it fall?
[Atley]: Aye, well done.
[Nunuzac]: No more hurting for him.
[Atley]: When I was a lad this was all swamps. A great n' storied place, called the Black Morass.
[Atley]: Somming' about the portal's scorched the land. I doubt it'll ever return to its old way.
[Torvald]: Excellent place for foraging.
[Torvald]: Used to get lost here, when I was a wee lad.
Atley peers at Torväld searchingly.
[Linwel]: Empty.
[Atley]: From the kingdom of Stormwind, are you?
[Torvald]: Still get lost here, but for different reasons.
[Nunuzac]: The land does look much like the peninsula on the other wide now, the red scorching.
[Torvald]: Oh, born in Ravenhill. We moved to Stratholme.
[Nunuzac]: It sounds similar, too.
[Atley]: Aye… They've become foul mirror images.
[Nunuzac]: Very unhappy land.
Atley turns his head away and flinches. "Aye. You're a Fauntleroy, aren't you," he says, as if reminding himself.
[Nunuzac]: What is a fauntleroy?
Atley looks to Torvald for that.
Nunuzac studies Torvald as if searching for him to be something other than a regular human.
[Torvald]: Aye!
Linwel feeds their elekk a piece of fruit. Where did it come from? Don't worry about it.
[Atley]: S'a surname, lass.
Torvald looks large for a human, but nothing seems to stand out about him. Except for the mustache. That might be mystical. Who can say.
[Atley]: We're due south-east, you lot, and hold fast. We'll be drawing near the portal.
[Torvald]: I am a Fauntleroy!
[Nunuzac]: Oh, just a name. I thought maybe a word I did not know.
Atley grunts.
[Torvald]: My pa used to say it meant something about kings, but pa was always good for a tall yarn.
Linwel whistles. "Rock!"
[Atley]: Aye, there's a rock…
[Atley]: But where's the slave?
[Nunuzac]: Wild kin has good eyes.
Linwel sniffs the air.
Atley peers at you searchingly.
[Atley]: Have you got anything?
Atley asks, eyes glaring at the Portal.
[Linwel]: Firrrebloom.
Linwel heads for a plant. Not the right question, Linwel. Gosh.
[Torvald]: Well.
Linwel's elekk immediately falls down a crevasse. This is gromsblood.
Torvald looks ready to fight the plant. Is this what they're doing?
[Linwel]: Firrrebloom.
[Torvald]: Hello there chap!
Linwel weaves a little red flower into their antlers.
Torvald seems uncannily good at getting himself into some amount of trouble.
Atley stares Servant of Razelikh down.
[Torvald]: Not his fault, got it!
Linwel examines their elekk's legs for any signs of injury. The elekk is fine.
[Atley]: These were recently killed. Far more recent than I thought.
Torvald looks around to Dane, the only one who Torvald seems to think might be a he. "It's not your fault."
Nunuzac tilts her head at the servant's final words, stooping momentarily. "Who? Hmm…"
[Atley]: I wager they'll be roaming these kills. Let's range.
Atley frowns in confusion at Torvald. "…Aye."
Torvald nods back. Job, accomplished.
[Linwel]: Starrrs!
Linwel calls down a magical meteor shower, or something like that.
Torvald makes a wish on the falling star.
Nunuzac marvels at the shower of falling stars, before remembering herself and whispering to the cursing stone. It falls apart.
Atley steps well out of the way of falling stars.
[Linwel]: Trrrebor?
[Torvald]: Right-o, chap.
[Atley]: Trebor. Might be that orc.
Nunuzac frowns when she puts her hands on the stone.
[Nunuzac]: It would not listen at first.
[Atley]: The stone disobeyed you?
[Torvald]: Oh, stubborn as a rock, as they say.
Atley sounds skeptical, but deferential.
[Nunuzac]: At first, yes.
Linwel chirps.
Atley grunts.
[Atley]: I see another, there.
[Nunuzac]: It may not have wanted to go. But now its fate is tied to the person.
Linwel whistles and points at an orc in the distance.
[Torvald]: Do you suppose we all have a rock we're tied to somewhere?
[Torvald]: I hope mine's sturdy!
[Linwel]: Rururu…
[Nunuzac]: I don't know enough to say no!
[Atley]: D'say not, myself.
[Atley]: When I die, I'll die.
[Linwel]: Die… when die. Rurururu…
[Torvald]: I do believe we have excellent proof that perhaps when you die, you won't die. Not unless someone gets your rock.
[Atley]: I doubt m'tied to some bloody stone somewhere.
[Torvald]: Yet!
[Linwel]: Bound. Daneoratley not… bound to rrrock.
Atley pauses, but grunts.
[Atley]: S' Dane *or* Atley, Linwel.
[Linwel]: DaneORatley?
Nunuzac becomes ghostly and wolfy and dashes around searching for another stone while the servant lingers.
[Atley]: S'go with Dane.
[Linwel]: Dane.
[Torvald]: Atley, yes. Like the woodcutters.
[Atley]: Aye, s'it.
Atley blinks, suddenly remembering.
[Linwel]: Wherrre… rock?
[Nunuzac]: It's not listening!
[Torvald]: Excellent lumber.
[Atley]: You knew f'my kin?
[Torvald]: My pa did.
Nunuzac barks at Felbeast.
[Torvald]: Used to complain all the time when we went north. 'Nottin' like the Atley's! Should be ashame of themselves.'
Atley grunts uncertainly.
[Atley]: Your kin's from 'round Grand Hamlet, you said?
Linwel waits by the stone.
Nunuzac sits beside the stone in lupine form and makes hushed growls as if having a discussion with it.
[Torvald]: Ravenhill, in Brightwood. Pa was from Lordaeron originally. Met Ma down in the south, moved there to be closer to her family. Until, well.
[Torvald]: Undead make terrible neighbors.
[Atley]: Aye.
Nunuzac gathers up shards of stone and sandy detritus from the last rock before following.
[Atley]: Properly.
[Nunuzac]: I tell the not listening rock, you will in time become a rock again. They want it to go faster than that.
[Torvald]: An impatient rock?
Nunuzac shakes her head with a tut.
[Linwel]: Starrrs!
[Atley]: You said you told the rock you'd toss it into a calderar?
[Nunuzac]: I did!
Atley grunts.
[Nunuzac]: Then it came apart, I will do its wish.
[Torvald]: Negotiating with rocks seems like you have your work cut out for you.
[Linwel]: Starrs!
[Atley]: S'bugger off back to the ghost, thrn.
Linwel nod nod nods.
Nunuzac wrinkles her nose a bit while trying to parse this directive.

Meanwhile, team Anareline, Caspis, Jenzelle, and Kitharian…

Jenzelle tries not to appear nervous, being surrounded by elves.
Caspis has an obvious vibe of familiarity with the other two night elves. Even though not all kaldorei know each other, it would seem that these three decidedly do.
Anareline glances back at the priestess.
Jenzelle offers a smile.
[Anareline]: Are you alright?
Kitharian says to the corpse, "We're busy."
[Jenzelle]: This is my first mission for Cobalt, that's all.
Kitharian smiles at Jenzelle. "So far, you're doing well."
[Anareline]: I'm sure you'll do fine. *Anareline forces a smile, trying to be encouraging*
[Anareline]: I think this orc ahead may be one of our targets.
[Caspis]: May I claim the skins of these beasts?
[Caspis]: I am a leatherworker, a trade taught to me by my father long, long ago.
[Caspis]: And I am currently rather short on supplies.
Anareline nods.
Imrolane bobs her head.
Imrolane casually spits out some skin at Cas's feet.
Caspis wipes off the cat-drool and tucks away the skins in his mysterious Bag of Holding..
Kitharian looks at Caspis, interested. "I can skin, but usually sell the leather and pelts. I'll send some to you."
Caspis thanks Kitharian.
[Caspis]: Your generosity is appreciated.
Jenzelle murmurs a prayer…
Caspis bows before Kitharian.
[Anareline]: I think that's freed him.
[Anareline]: Seventeen more to go…
[Kitharian]: Interesting.
[Jenzelle]: The orc was right, then!
[Caspis]: As always, shalan, I rely on you to track the details.
[Anareline]: This one is a Tauren. Do you see the stone?
[Jenzelle]: There.
[Kitharian]: Hard to miss him.
[Anareline]: Ah, around the corner
[Anareline]: And a troll…
[Caspis]: Well done.
Caspis gazes at the portal.
Caspis gets lost in thought…
[Anareline]: It must gall them, now that the portal is open. That they are bound to this place.
Caspis snaps out of it and follows.
[Jenzelle]: That wouldn't be right!
[Anareline]: What wouldn't be, priestess?
[Jenzelle]: To leave them like this.
[Kitharian]: I may have suggested it.
[Anareline]: Ah. Well. I think it wouldn't be right to leave a demon invincible servants. When we know how to kill them.
Kitharian concedes Anareline's point with a head bobble.
Caspis gazes at the ruined war machines and drifts off again, but luckily his saber knows to follow Anareline.
[Anareline]: Let's not engage the dragon.
[Caspis]: …Dragon? *He snaps to attention.*
[Anareline]: Yes, there was one flying by. Rather large, for these days.
Kitharian smiles a little.
[Caspis]: What color?
[Kitharian]: Green.
[Caspis]: Hmmm.
[Imrolane]: [Darnassian] Black.
[Anareline]: If we see it again I will look more closely. I was mostly watching its trajectory.
[Caspis]: Shan'do said black.
Caspis's tone implies, so it was probably black..
Servant of Razelikh says: The Defiler… must warn Thrall…
[Jenzelle]: This one spoke…
[Kitharian]: Warn Thrall?
[Caspis]: Hmm.
[Kitharian]: That sounds like a quick trip to the Shadowlands.
Anareline frowns at the dead tauren.
[Anareline]: I'm afraid we will not be warning Thrall for him. I suspect cooperation goes only so far.
[Jenzelle]: What is the Defiler?
[Caspis]: Archimonde.
[Anareline]: Ah. Then his news is out of date, in any case.
[Caspis]: Often the case, with spirits.
[Jenzelle]: They must have been stuck for so long…
[Caspis]: No more than a decade, surely?
[Caspis]: Has it been longer since Archimonde fell?
Jenzelle 's eyes widen. "That's so long though!"
[Caspis]: …Ah.
Anareline looks at Jenzelle for a moment, and then decides to help. "You may have ended up with a group of those for whom one thousand years is not… terribly long."
[Jenzelle]: A-a thousand? Isn't long? *She looks awed.*
[Anareline]: Kitharian, Jenzelle, if we seem eccentric, that would be why.
[Caspis]: She exaggerates ever so slightly.
[Caspis]: But I am over ten thousand years old. Even for my people, that is old, but… ten years is of little consequence to most of us, I think it is fair to say.
[Kitharian]: That sounds like far too long. But humans are like that.
[Kitharian]: Ten thousand years….
[Jenzelle]: I can't even imagine living that long.
[Caspis]: And how old are you, young humans?
[Kitharian]: Twenty-nine.
[Caspis]: Ah, so just of age.
[Jenzelle]: Twenty-two.
Caspis nods.
[Imrolane]: [Darnassian] What do they mean? Twenty nine…hundreds?
[Kitharian]: Ugh. Warlocks.
[Anareline]: [Darnassian] I am quite certain they mean years.
Caspis murmurs to his Shan'do in Darnassian, clearly translating.
[Caspis]: [Darnassian] They come of age at the same age we do - these are but new adults, it seems.
Kitharian clears her throat. Loudly.
Anareline looks back to the humans. "We would consider you grown among our own people, as well."
[Anareline]: Caspis was explaining your age.
[Jenzelle]: Ah, that's good to know.
Caspis looks like he would add something, but changes his mind.
[Anareline]: Imrolane had wondered if perhaps you meant twenty-nine centuries. *Ana smiles faintly*
Kitharian relaxes. "Thank you for explaining."
Kitharian laughs.
[Caspis]: You seem wiser than your years.
[Anareline]: I think there are only a few yet left to free.
[Caspis]: Most of our people, at twenty-nine, are very… flighty.
[Kitharian]: Among humans, at almost thirty I would be expected to be married by now, and to have children of my own.
[Caspis]: I suppose that makes sense.
[Caspis]: You have less than a century all told, yes?
[Anareline]: It would be… unusual… for a kaldorei to have children at twenty-nine.
[Kitharian]: Yes. Every once in a while, someone lives longer.
[Caspis]: I believe your people gain wisdom at an accelerated rate, to compensate.
[Imrolane]: [Darnassian] How long? Humans. Do they live?
Caspis explains to Imrolane in Darnassian.
[Kitharian]: Some of us try, at any rate.
[Caspis]: They usually live less than a century.
[Jenzelle]: Oh, I don't know about that, I think we have a lot we can learn from your people.
Kitharian nods.
[Caspis]: Simply saying so is a sign of wisdom most kaldorei do not possess at thirty.
[Imrolane]: [Darnassian] So brief…like mayflies.
[Caspis]: [Darnassian] I have come to admire, Shan'do, how much humans do with how little time.
Anareline shoots a glance at Imrolane.
[Kitharian]: Do you stop counting your years at some point?
[Caspis]: I was telling Shan'do how much humans do with so little time.
Caspis nods at Kitharian.
[Caspis]: I do not know my specific age.
[Caspis]: I only know that it exceeds ten thousand years because they say the world was shattered ten thousand years ago, and I remember this.
[Imrolane]: [Darnassian] Hm. They do like to build. A lot.
Kitharian blinks and shakes her head. "Amazing."
[Anareline]: Nor do I. I might get a close guess.. but I do not count each year passing.
[Caspis]: Age matters while a kaldorei is maturing, and to some extent there is a difference between… five hundred and five thousand. But the exact increments matter little.
Kitharian grins at Jenzelle. "Can you even imagine?"
Jenzelle shakes her head. "Not even a little. What would I do with all that time? Help people, I guess."
[Caspis]: It gives us a very different perspective. Humans spend a great deal of time thinking about what to do with time, as you have said.
[Anareline]: We will have to find the trick of that.
[Caspis]: For us, we simply let life unfold, observe patterns, go where the wind takes us. For the most part.
[Caspis]: There is a slight sense of urgency among the very young, at times.
Anareline nods.
[Caspis]: Especially now.
[Caspis]: Children today know that they will not live forever under even the best circumstances.
[Caspis]: I suspect our culture will change accordingly.
[Kitharian]: And these are hardly that. That must make it difficult on Night Elf parents.
[Caspis]: It is.
[Anareline]: None of my children will ever reach my years in age.
[Anareline]: It was not a thing I expected when they were born.
[Anareline]: We can wait here for the others.
Kitharian thinks about that, disturbed a little to judge by her frown.
[Jenzelle]: So this is a new change? That you don't…live as long?
[Caspis]: There was worry at first that we might have to "catch up" our extra years. But years have gone by with no sign of this.
[Caspis]: We will still live… over a thousand years. I am not certain of those numbers.
[Caspis]: Even naturally, elves are very long-lived.
[Caspis]: But we will now die of old age, which has not been the case for millennia.
[Caspis]: This was what we sacrificed to defeat Archimonde.
[Anareline]: It was… with the fall of Nordrassil.
[Caspis]: We destroyed the World Tree by which Nozdormu had granted our immortality.
[Caspis]: His blessing placed us outside of time, and we willingly destroyed this.
[Kitharian]: At Hyjal. I've read about it.
Caspis nods.
Fallen Hero of the Horde points to the west.
[Jenzelle]: Do you um…get weaker, with age? Humans often get a bit more…fragile, the older we get.
[Caspis]: This will happen now. But it has not yet, to me.
[Caspis]: Likely not for several centuries.
[Anareline]: I do not know how gradual it might be.
[Caspis]: This is new territory for us all.
[Kitharian]: How can anyone know?
[Jenzelle]: Do you think…even among those of you that are over ten…thousand…it might happen at different rates?
[Caspis]: Before the tree was destroyed, many of us assumed that those over the natural lifespan would simply… wither instantly.
[Caspis]: We were still willing.
[Kitharian]: Is there even anyone alive who remembers a time before immortality? Old elves that then became immortal?
[Caspis]: But it has not yet occurred. The future, however, remains uncertain.
[Caspis]: Those who were older when the tree was planted remember.
[Caspis]: Everyone who had reached maturity at that time simply stopped aging wherever they were in that process.
[Caspis]: The children continued to grow, to reach maturity, but then their aging stopped.
[Caspis]: Physically, at least.

The groups reconvene.

Atley tugs Hutch to a stop and raises a hand, peering at the others. He briefly eyes Imrolane.
Fallen Hero of the Horde says: Hello, my Alliance friends. Did it work?
[Atley]: Wager we've found all the stones.
Anareline nods at the ghost. "For our part, we have freed many of your people."
Imrolane eyes Dane back.
[Anareline]: Yes, ghost. It worked.
Nunuzac pats her pouch of sandy rock bits at her waist.
Fallen Hero of the Horde says: You have done it! The poor, tortured souls can finally rest.
Caspis nods at Fallen Hero of the Horde.
Ferocity continues to stamp his feet, and tosses his head at the orc. The pointy bit on his barding makes it a bit more threatening. But he stays put.
Fallen Hero of the Horde says: Our work is not yet over, though. We have much to discuss and much more to accomplish.
Fallen Hero of the Horde points to the west. To a Tauren ghost who has appeared.
Corporal Thund Splithoof says: Before we leave this plane, I am able to manifest one more time. Thank you for freeing us all. Please accept this gift as thanks.
Atley peers at Corporal Thund Splithoof searchingly.
Atley mutters something along the lines of, "How long's he been there, then…?"
[Anareline]: I think he is one of those we freed. There were Tauren among them.
[Atley]: Mm. Aye.
Fallen Hero of the Horde says: One of my men is still unaccounted for, lost somewhere in the Blasted Lands. I am talking about Lieutenant Kirith, of course.
Ferocity seems less upset at the Tauren, so he stays pointed that way.
Caspis nods absently.
Jenzelle smiles at Thund Splithoof.
Fallen Hero of the Horde says: As I had mentioned earlier, we were both imprisoned and tortured by Allistarj, but poor Kirith, his strength of will faltered.
Fallen Hero of the Horde says: I could hear the experiments from my cage; the tortured screams rang through the halls of the cave. That was the last I saw or heard of Kirith.
Kitharian twists in the saddle to listen to the orc.
Atley seems equally bemused to commune with either of these spirits.
Anareline 's frown deepens.
Nunuzac rests her hands over her heart for a moment at Anareline's words, smiling at the ghostly tauren.
Fallen Hero of the Horde says: I am no longer able to travel as once I could. Can you find what became of Kirith?
Linwel nod nod nods.
Caspis mounts up.
Atley glances around before settling on Imrolane.
[Atley]: You.
[Atley]: You've the look of a tracker.
Caspis's saber knows what to do, immediately orienting itself toward Anareline's saber.
[Anareline]: Allistarj, you said. We went by his camp. Or hers?
Imrolane frowns at Dane, then looks to Caspis.
[Imrolane]: [Darnassian] What does he say?
Atley … grunts.
Caspis says softly to Dane, "She does not speak Common well."
[Caspis]: He said you seem to be a tracker.
[Atley]: Right then.
Caspis appears lost in thought.
[Linwel]: Starrrs!
[Imrolane]: [Darnassian] How will I track if everyone rides away first?
[Anareline]: Leave none alive!
Imrolane shakes her head.
Caspis shrugs at Imrolane. Who knows?
[Torvald]: Even the unalive!
[Anareline]: Do you think he may be in here?
Caspis clearly has no idea what they're doing anymore, but follows the herd.
Anareline glances at Torvald and amends to, "Leave none moving."
Anareline looks to Imrolane to say which way.
Linwel whistles. They seem to like the way the echo sounds in the cave, because they whistle again.
Caspis is clearly just thinking about something else entirely as he follows along, occasionally slinging a spell.
Torvald whistles back.
Caspis blinks at Kirith the Damned.
[Anareline]: There is a ghost!
Nunuzac shrieks a little at the sight of a felhound bigger than an elekk.
[Linwel]: Rrrru?
Kirith says: Trebor? Trebor sent you?
[Anareline]: What have they done to you…
Atley squints at Kirith.
Caspis is still staring at what's left of the felhound. He shudders.
Kirith says: Let us not mince words, Alliance; my time here is limited.
[Jenzelle]: This demon has a cruel sense of humor…
[Kitharian]: A ghost demon. That's a new one.
Kirith says: You must destroy the triad of power which protects the demon lord, Razelikh. Doing so will not be as simple a task as freeing my damned soul.
Kitharian kicks the body with a toe. Just to see.
Kirith grins. "You see, each of Razelikh's underlings wears a third of an amulet of Razelikh's creation around their neck. The very same amulet you will need in order to summon the arch demon."
Nunuzac covers her mouth and regains her composure.
Kirith says: Return to Trebor and tell him what is required to summon Razelikh. He will be able to guide you further. And thank you for destroying this horrific anchor for my spirit.
Torvald strokes his mustache and nods. "Hm, yes, standard procedure. Can't have an amulet all in once place."
[Caspis]: … During the war we would find sorcerers of the moon guard, lying on the ground like fallen rinds of fruit… hollowed out utterly by these creatures…
Atley smacks his lips as he listens, thumbs cinched in his belt.
Atley nods to Caspis. "Wretched monsters, to be certain."
Caspis blinks and shakes his head slightly.
Linwel makes soft chirping noises.
[Atley]: S'ride back to the orc, pass on wot' we've learned.
Kitharian stares at the wildkin. Oh yeah. There's that thing again.
Anareline nods.
Linwel looms casually.
Caspis nods absently.
[Torvald]: Sally forth!
[Anareline]: Caspis, is the wildkin one of your students or colleagues?
[Linwel]: Drrruid.
[Atley]: … This isn't properly a wildkin?
Kitharian stares more. Oh right, it talks.
Linwel climbs up onto their elekk again.
[Atley]: It's a *druid?*
Anareline nods at Linwel. "I assumed so, yes."
[Linwel]: Moonkin… drrruid.
[Anareline]: I have seen my shalan take such a form. *Ana inclines her head towards Caspis*
[Caspis]: It is useful in many situations, but I prefer this form.
Nunuzac pets the feathers of Linwel's wing, once, on the principle that it's only fair.
Atley leans back to see how Linwel responds.
Anareline explains what Kirith has told them.
Linwel makes a noise that's almost like purring.
Trebor says: The demon lord displays a cunning almost as calculated as his brutality. The triad is protected by Razelikh, even as they protect him.
Nunuzac looks simply delighted.
Caspis frowns with disappointment at Fallen Hero of the Horde.
[Caspis]: What must be done?
Kitharian watches Nunu with envy.
Trebor says: In exchange for their servitude, Razelikh granted each of them nearly unlimited power within the Blasted Lands. The amulet pieces are each attuned to the lifeforce of their owner, granting them immortality.
Kitharian remembers to listen. Right. Demon lord.
[Caspis]: Mm.
Trebor says: As for what must be done, that is hard to say. As long as they remain within the Blasted Lands, they cannot be slain, their life spans extended until the end of days.
Torvald pets the other side of Linwel as he listens. Apparently this is what one does with Moonkin? Who can say.
Trebor says: Though… there is one who may be able to assist you further. Travel to Azshara and find the demon hunter, Loramus Thalipedes. Search the islands.
Linwel is so fluffy and soft.
[Atley]: Demon hunter… D'not turn away their input in a matter such as this.
[Anareline]: The… demon hunter. *Ana repeats, frowning*
Caspis narrows his eyes.
Caspis spits in the dirt.
[Kitharian]: Technically, I could be called a demon hunter. I suspect they mean something different, though.
[Caspis]: Illidan's ilk.
[Atley]: Unless they're *barking* mad, n' I realize that's a tall order, they ought to be a great aid.
[Anareline]: Yes, for our kind, it means something different.
[Torvald]: Aren't we all demon hunters, here?
Kitharian holds a hand out to Torvald as if to say "See?"
Jenzelle looks to Caspis for an explanation.
[Anareline]: No, Torvald, we are not. We kill demons, but we are not demon hunters.
[Caspis]: Have you torn out your eyes? Filled your body with demonic ichor?
[Caspis]: Then no.
Linwel growls.
Kitharian sniffs. "I didn't need to."
[Atley]: Sounds like a fifth of Badlands bourbon and an 'arse kicking.
[Torvald]: Demon….killers then? I suppose that's a step up from hunting!
[Torvald]: Not today, *Torvald says to Capsis.*
[Anareline]: Well. We've come this far. We could at least see if he has any knowledge that might aid us.
[Caspis]: I am a druid. That is the only descriptor I require.
[Atley]: Aye. S'make for Azshara.
Kitharian grins at Caspis.
Atley grunts.
Kitharian bursts out laughing at Nunuzac.
[Torvald]: Better fruit punch than punch fruit, as they say.
Linwel comes down the docks at a sprint, leading his elekk behind him.
Atley peers at Linwel searchingly.
[Atley]: So you *are* an elf.
Torvald seems very familiar with the Booty Bay dock situation.
Linwel shakes his head. "Moon-kin."
[Atley]: … Mm.
Torvald has his back turned to Linwel though, so he can't see her other form.
Linwel wiggles back into Moonkin form.
Kitharian doesn't stare. She stares at… um… the deck. Cool deck.
Caspis is clearly mentally Elsewhere right now. Shocker.
[Linwel]: Boat… trrravel.
[Anareline]: Forest Song is the closest outpost to Aszhara.
[Anareline]: I expect we will find this Loramus somewhere isolated.
Caspis is off in his own little world…
[Anareline]: They are not… welcome… most places.
[Atley]: Can any of you sense him?
Linwel climbs back on their elekk.
Kitharian blinks at Atley, then looks at the elves to see if it's even possible.
Anareline shakes her head. "The ghost said the islands, if his information is not outdated."
[Atley]: The bay's littered with them, we ought to start searching.
[Caspis]: Mm.
Nunuzac looks around at the hilly forests, eyes curious.
[Anareline]: Let's head out.
[Anareline]: We'll need to make our way down to the coast.
Caspis nods absently.
[Jenzelle]: There's a…lot of ruins here.
[Nunuzac]: Oh, these buildings… night elf lands here too?
[Caspis]: Yes.
[Anareline]: They were.
[Caspis]: This was near the center of the empire.
Anareline looks curiously at Jenzelle.
[Atley]: Mm…
Atley glances back at the water.
Torvald looks at Nunuzac, and brandishes a flower. "Does that mean by extension, I am your favorite, my lady?"
Anareline eyes the felhunters.
[Atley]: We've a charmer on our hands.
You point at Loramus Thalipedes.
Nunuzac taps her chin, considering.
Imrolane growls menacingly at Shahiar.
[Nunuzac]: It's more the water's decision than mine.
Kitharian grimaces in distaste. Ferocity, on the other hand, is perfectly dry.
[Nunuzac]: But you are okay.
Nunuzac gently pats Torvald.
Caspis bares his teeth and snarls at Shahiar.
Torvald presents the flower to water. "Well met, milady water!"
[Anareline]: I think this is the place. *Ana puts a hand warily on the hilt of her sword*
Linwel growls.
Kitharian eyes the demondogs. "That's a lot of them…"
[Anareline]: Loramus Thalipedes?
Caspis growls menacingly at Zaman.
Caspis glares angrily at Raytaf.
Anareline | Loramus Thalipedes says: Yes. What are you doing here?
Atley glares angrily at Zaman.
Linwel keeps growling.
[Torvald]: What are any of us doing here, really?
Kitharian looks at Anareline.
Loramus Thalipedes says: That's… that's exactly what I just asked.
Torvald is a man of deep thoughts. Or maybe he's really not sure why they're here.
[Atley]: We're working against the demons, in the Blasted Lands.
[Atley]: Somman' told us you'd be of some aid.
Linwel nod nod nods.
Atley stares Loramus Thalipedes down.
Anareline nods at Dane. "We seek to kill a demon."
Caspis glares angrily at Loramus Thalipedes.
[Torvald]: We're Demon Killers, you see.
Loramus Thalipedes says: You want to kill the demon of the Blasted Lands? Then I will help you. Although, I do not think you fully understand what you are up against.
[Atley]: L'go on then, mate. S'not be coy.
Imrolane growls menacingly at Raytaf.
Loramus Thalipedes says: If you wish to battle demons, then you would do well to listen to my tale.
Kitharian listens intently.
Jenzelle crowds close with everyone else because the alternative is standing next to felhounds.
Torvald pets Zaman as he gets closer to the group. Does Torvald think the fel hunter is a puppy? Who can say.
Caspis sighs at Loramus Thalipedes.
Caspis listens intently to Loramus Thalipedes.
Loramus Thalipedes says: Can you see them, mortal? No… I did not think you could. Sighted but sightless - it is your gift and your curse.
Loramus Thalipedes says: In the age of war, Razelikh the Defiler served as the most fearsome of Lord Kazzak's lieutenants. When the Legion was defeated and Kazzak forced back into the Tainted Scar, Razelikh was tasked by his master to secure the Blasted Lands.
Loramus Thalipedes says: While the Alliance fought petty battles with the Horde over territory outside of the Blasted Lands, Razelikh was uniting the differing Shadow Council sects and the brutish Dreadmaul ogres of the land.
Loramus Thalipedes says: Tragically, it was Thrall's wisdom that finally sealed the bond between the demon lord and his minions. It was Trebor's regiment that served as the catalyst to unite the demon lord, the shadowsworn sects and the ogres. The lure of nearly unlimited power and the granting of immortal shock troops to each respective leader sealed the deal in blood.
Loramus Thalipedes says: What Sevine, Allistarj, and Grol did not realize was that just as their servants were bound to the land, so would they be… You see, the price for their own immortality was also imprisonment and eternal servitude under the command of Razelikh. The cruel cunning of Razelikh had emerged the victor once again.
Loramus Thalipedes says: Their minds are now tainted. Yes, even more so than before. They live only to serve and protect Razelikh. The amulet fragments they each hold are the key to summoning the demon lord. What you do not understand is that none of them can be harmed through any conventional means.
[Anareline]: We will do this with or without your help, Loramus.
Loramus Thalipedes says: Then let us pretend that you undergo the long and arduous task of creating the bane necessary to break through the demonic wards placed upon the triad. What would be your next course of action? To face the Defiler in his lair?
Torvald looks like he's willing to pretend he went through an arduous task.
[Anareline]: Yes.
[Torvald]: Sounds fine!
[Linwel]: Rurururu…
Kitharian nods at Linwel. Yeah. What they said.
[Atley]: S'right.
Loramus Thalipedes laughs.
Loramus Thalipedes says: You're serious? So be it…
[Caspis]: [Darnassian] I remember when you were too small to wipe your own backside, you arrogant, tainted upstart. Mind your tone in the presence of your elders and heroes of the alliance.
Imrolane snorfles in amusement.
Caspis's tone suggests that maybe no one ought to translate what he just said.
Atley peers at Imrolane searchingly.
Loramus Thalipedes staggers.
Loramus glares at Caspis. "If you truly want my help, you could be more considerate."
Jenzelle whispers, hoping the demon hunter can't hear her, "Why isn't he wearing a shirt?"
[Caspis]: [Darnassian] I want nothing from you. I cannot speak for the rest.
[Torvald]: Dark Iron shirt, maybe.
[Torvald]: I have one just like it.
[Atley]: Come off it, you lot. F'we can get along with a dead greenskin, we make due with this one.
Caspis looks like he is seriously on the verge of tearing out the guy's throat with his bare fangs.
Anareline whispers to Jenzelle, "Arrogance."
Imrolane growls in a tone of warning.
[Atley]: S'just do wot' we came here to do, figger' a way to kill demons.
Loramus Thalipedes says: You are foolhardy, Alliance. It is an admirable quality of your kind - to blindly enter battle when you have little to no chance of success. I will assist you, if only to see just one of Razelikh's minions fall.
[Caspis]: [Darnassian] Was I just called blind by a man who has torn out his own eyes?
Torvald does look like he's foolhardy and blindly enters battles frequently.
Caspis bares his teeth and snarls at Loramus Thalipedes.
Loramus Thalipedes says: And then, this is what I ask of you: The name of the beast must be found.
Atley deadpans Loramus. "Right then. You tell us wot' we need and hang 'bout on this island, we'll take the fight to them."
Loramus Thalipedes says: I will see what I can uncover. Return to me again, if you would like to know more.
Caspis spits in the dirt.
Kitharian looks blandly confident.
Loramus Thalipedes says: Or do not. I do not care.
Caspis growls menacingly at Loramus Thalipedes.
[Kitharian]: Thank you, Loramus Thalipedes.
[Kitharian]: We'll return.
Caspis seems to have two modes: drowsy inattention and Ready To Do Murder.
Linwel stretches their arms out and the feathers flare into wings as they take their flight form. They fly away as a bird without saying goodbye.
[Atley]: M'buggering off. I've to clean up.
[Atley]: Have we all got passage?
[Caspis]: I can swim.
[Torvald]: Ah HA! The water likes me!
Atley nods at Caspis.
[Kitharian]: Hearthstones work here.
Torvald leaps off into the water.
Atley peers at Jenzelle searchingly.
[Atley]: And you?
[Jenzelle]: I should be okay, thank you.
[Atley]: I trust the rest f'you know wot' to do.