(2022-12-04) A Shadowy Invitation

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Author:	inkie
Summary:	Ben meets with Captain Jocoza to deliver his report on Tempest Keep. She has news of another assignment, back in Azeroth.
Rating:	T for Teen

Arc: Season 8

“So it was a hell of an effort all ‘round, ma’am, but Cobalt’s people did themselves proud. I reckon also that the prep work we done with the mana forges for the Scryers and Aldor, and White Squad takin’ out that Legion commander, went a ways toward paving the path for the whole operation, so that is a credit on us that people ought to take notice.”

Ben is standing by the big communal table in HQ, his hands clasped behind his back in a loose semblance of a military parade rest. He’s contemplating the bowl of apples on the table, but at the end of his summation he glances up and offers Jocoza a crooked smile.

Despite his crisply white shirt and freshly shined boots, he’s looking a little worse for wear today: His thick hair has been cropped short with, apparently, some haphazard haste, and sprouts a couple of aggressive cowlicks; his entire right eyebrow is merely a faint-stubbled shadow of itself, which gives his expression a distracting asymmetry. The still-intact left eyebrow, darker and heavier than the other, seems fixed in a permanent kind of Hazan Eyebrow scowl as a result of the weird contrast.

“Anyhow, I will be back to Netherstorm shortly and see what kind of cleanup they might have for us out there, unless you have got more urgent.”

“That’s probably a good idea,” Jo nods. “I bet there’s a lot of mopping up to do.” She sighs, leaning with one hand on the table. “Did you hear that the Cobalt Blade team is starting to organize? They’re still not ready for major missions, though, I think. They haven’t got a full team quite yet.”

Ben nods. “My– folks are pretty excited about it. The project of it, I mean. I recollect the one of ‘em, the elf girl? Kind of, uh. Moody? And there was a real fresh-face fellow.” Ben pauses and then judiciously withholds further comment on the fresh-faced fellow. “How many more you reckon they’ll need? Gonna send ‘em down to Westfall and sh– places?”

"That's the plan. To show everyone Cobalt still cares about the problems in Azeroth. I think at this point they need a healer at least, and there are a few other likely candidates. They're all pretty fresh, though, and they'll need time to mesh as a team. And some good starting missions." Jo sighs, and her eyes glaze a little like she's thinking through a list. "If only the timing were a little different… I just don't think I ought to send them out in into Deadwind Pass right off. What do you think?"

Ben blinks at Jo, and his whole manner shifts: a tightening of focus, a sharpening of his posture. He stares at her. He is not raising an eyebrow, but the fact that he only has one and a half eyebrows at the moment kind of makes it look like he is. “Dead– you say ‘Deadwind Pass’?”

"Yeah, okay, sounds like definitely not a good idea, with that reaction," Jo giggles. "I'll just have to tell them we can't take this one on."

Ben takes half a step closer and bends to rest his knuckles on the table, leaning intently toward Jo. “But what’s — what one? What’s goin’ on in Deadwind Pass? There’s… a job? There?”

"It's a bit… secretive, I think?" Jo leans over the table, a little closer to Ben, and says in a quieter voice, "The Kirin Tor keeps an eye on Medivh's old tower, you know?"

Ben nods and hunches a little, leaning even closer to Jo. A couple more rounds of this and they will be nose-to-nose. “I know,” he says. “And it’s — somethin’ with the tower? Medivh’s?”

Jo nods several times and says quietly, "It seems like the whole place is overrun with ghosts these days, and the mages posted there are getting… troubling readings. They asked if we could send some anti-ghost muscle, help them see what's going on." Jo shifts back a little, no nose-bonking today. "But that could be a rough first mission. Maybe I could send them over towards Black Company…"

“No!” Ben barks, and then blanches: Whoops, don’t yell at the Captain, Ben. He clears his throat and says in a painstakingly polite tone, “Ma’am, begging your pardon, but — I mean, we have just come from the action at Tempest Keep, and the whole place around there will still be swarmin’ with Alliance and Scryers and Aldor. I do not… reckon it is urgent for us to turn up and maybe get underfoot. Medivh’s tower… I mean, Deadwind Pass is right the edge of Ference lands, you know? That is Mr. — that is our ancestoral homelands.” He pronounces ancestoral with tremendous dignity. “And Sir Elohad… He has got a family tie to the place. To Medivh’s place. If you would not mind, ma’am, I would ask your leave to take Blue Squad out there, maybe, and see what’s up?”

Oh no, he is doing puppy eyes. Serious, soldierly puppy eyes. Yes, that’s a thing.

Jo has no defense against the soldierly puppy eyes. She looks uncertain for a moment, and then nods. "I do remember Elo's stories, I just thought… Netherstorm… If you're sure the mopping up isn't urgent, and this isn't too much right after…" She gestures at his lopsided hair.

Ben straightens again with crisp military poise. “Ma’am, I will take responsibility for gettin’ in touch with our contacts out there and checking as to the immediate necessary of our presence.” He pauses. “Necessity. Ma’am.”

He clears his throat. “And no, it ain’t too much. It will be important to Mr– my dad. And I am not injured, ma’am, apart from my ruffian good looks. Plus I am gonna get a new eyebrow out of the deal.” His tone is dry. He flashes her a rueful smile.

“I guess it’s good to replace things like that, from time to time,” Jo says, peering at his eyebrow stubble. “Alright, then. Take Blue Squad back out that way, and we’ll see if there’s really trouble or if they’re just understandably twitchy about the whole tower.”

Ben nods once, and snaps a sharp salute. "Ma'am." He shifts and is once more his casual, drawling self. "I 'preciate you, ma'am. We will take care of it."