(2022-12-18) The Fall of Kael'thas, Take Two (S8 E9 White Squad)

Details

Author:	OzmaAsimov
Summary:	White Squad travels to the Isle of Quel'Danas to investigate the reports of Kael'thas Sunstrider's continued existence…and to put an end to it.
Rating:	T for Teen

Arc: Season 8

[Cressidha]: Dane. Auralind. Good afternoon.

Atley turns to the two of them and nods, visibly more gruff than usual.

[Auralind]: Elune adore.

Cressidha offers Auralind some water as per usual.

Auralind bows her head reverentially as she accepts the water, "Shaha lor'ma dula Luvas'alith."

Cressidha says politely, "You're welcome."

[Atley]: Any idea where Colson and the lad are?

Cressidha offers Dane water as well. "Colson should be here. Alysson…" She looks around.

Atley accepts the water and fastens it to his belt. "Cheers, Cress."

Cressidha turns. "Alysson, good afternoon."

[Alysson]: There's a tree here!

[Atley]: Come about, lad. We've a hard day ahead f'us.

[Cressidha]: There is.

Alysson glances around. "Hey, uh…I think we're short one?"

[Cressidha]: Yes, Colson should be here—

[Atley]: We are. Not like him to be running late.

[Alysson]: Oh! There.

[Auralind]: Two, actually…ah, here he comes.

Aspenwood arrives at that exact moment, he's fine. He's not out of breath, hair blown back.

Atley eyes Aspenwood up and down.

Aspenwood is a little out of breath.

Auralind smiles as Elu'shalla bounds up to join the group.

Cressidha turns to her brother, brows raised.

[Atley]: You 'right?

[Cressidha]: Ah! Elu'shalla's with us again.

Aspenwood clears his throat, and there's a faint flush to his cheeks. "Ah, yes, Of course. Please excuse my lateness."

[Alysson]: Aw, where's the lava drooler?

Cressidha smiles at the lion, then at her brother.

Atley eyes Colson for a moment before he clears his throat.

Atley eyes Elu’shalla up and down.

[Atley]: Ah — you've the terror again.

Atley asks, immediately getting distracted.

Cressidha looks around at the others and quickly pulls on her tabard.

[Auralind]: Shei'van…is in need of rest.

Aspenwood uses this opportunity to straighten his tabard.

[Aspenwood]: Oh? Is he…ah…unwell?

[Alysson]: He's not hurt or nothin' I hope?

Atley grunts and nods before he turns back to the group as a whole. "Right then. As I'm sure some of you've heard, Kael'thas Sunstrider… is still alive."

Auralind looks to Dane, leaving the questions about the fel pup unanswered.

Cressidha frowns and folds her arms.

[Alysson]: That was…bad, right? Bad guy?

[Cressidha]: Yes.

[Auralind]: Very bad.

[Aspenwood]: Yes.

[Atley]: Aye. That's bad. He launched a raid with his forces on Silvermoon City. They managed to steal a naaru that the blood elves had been holding hostage to siphon its magic.

Cressidha narrows her eyes.

[Atley]: The Aldor have dispatched their forces to the isle of Quel'danas, just north of the greater Quel'thalas. That's where Kael'thas has held up… He's going after the Sunwell itself.

Aspenwood stiffens. "Yes. They…" Colson exhales slowly.

Alysson looks blank. He's listening, just…he doesn't get it.

[Cressidha]: Jo mentioned these as rumors, in the newsletter. They've been verified?

[Atley]: The Aldor are stretched thin, and word says they're getting hammered. Today, we are their relief. We've orders to report to an Exarch on site.

[Aspenwood]: I see.

Atley sets his jaw and glares intently at Cressidha. "They have."

Cressidha frowns. "Very well."

[Atley]: We'll report to General Tiras'allan 'fore we head off. They've a portal established here that'll right lead to the elven homeland.

[Alysson]: Say…what's a sun well?

Auralind sighs.

[Atley]: It's an ancient font, from where the elves drew their magical powers. Ar — The Lich King sacked it in the Third War.

Auralind sighs. "High elves."

Atley nods briefly to Auralind.

Aspenwood looks at Alysson. Is any of that being absorbed?

[Alysson]: Huh. Dunno how you put a well in a sack, but this Kael'thas is plannin' to take it out again?

[Atley]: Ought to be no bloody surprise either that the Horde was just fine holding a naaru hostage.

Aspenwood opens his mouth, considers that, and closes it again.

[Atley]: He's planning to *use* it, lad.

[Alysson]: Oh.

[Atley]: Let's get on with it.

[Cressidha]: Understood.

Alysson mutters to himself, "Sack an' all, huh?"

[Aspenwood]: Yessir.

Atley salutes General Tiras'alan with respect.

[Atley]: General. We're with Cobalt Company.

[Cressidha]: How may we be of assistance?

General Tiras'alan turns to the grpu, his features grim. "Good. Our current intelligence leads us to believe that Kael’thas is attempting to use the Sunwell’s power to summon Kil’jaeden the Deceiver and his Burning Legion."

General Tiras'alan "It will be a direct attack upon Azeroth itself…"

Cressidha turns to Alysson. "That's bad," she translates, deadpan.

[Alysson]: Now the sack thing is makin' more sense. He's gonna pull things outa it.

Aspenwood’s face is a steady neutrality. He's not going to laugh at the translation for Alysson. He's NOT.

Aspenwood is laughing on the inside.

Cressidha nods very seriously.

General Tiras'alan says: "Just as Queen Azshara attempted to summon the Legion through the Well of Eternity ten thousand years ago, resulting in the Great Sundering."

Auralind’s eyes widen, staring blindly at nothing, but filling with rage. "Kil'jaeden…"

General Tiras'alan says: Archmage Ne'thul is on the ground in Quel'danas. Report to him.

Aspenwood nods sharply, saluting with military precision in what might be an automatic response to the order.

[Cressidha]: We shall.

Atley salutes General Tiras'alan with respect.

[Atley]: We're this way, you lot.

Atley turns and marches off, tugging on his helmet before he yanks his sword out.

[Alysson]: So was the Well 'o Eternity in a sack too?

[Cressidha]: …

[Auralind]: NO!

Auralind growls.

Aspenwood leans in closer to Alysson as they walk. "To’sack' means to plunder and destroy, Alysson. They are not the same words."

[Auralind]: Take cover!

Atley steps into the sunlight, glaring out from under his helmet. "They're under siege. Last time I stepped foot in the Eversong was the better part of twenty years ago."

Aspenwood keeps his eyes closed for a moment after they arrive, and then immediately shields. Oh, they are under attack it seems.

[Atley]: Keep your bloody heads on!

Cressidha touches the translocator orb.

Aspenwood braces himself as he touches the orb.

[Cressidha]: Auralind, the orb in front of you will take you to my location here.

Cressidha steps aside for her.

Aspenwood is fine. This is fine. He's not disoriented.

Aspenwood might be a little disoriented.

Atley glares angrily at Astromancer Darnarian.

Auralind grimaces as she appears at the second orb.

[Auralind]: I did not enjoy that…

Cressidha heads down the ramp.

Aspenwood moves slowly following Cress. "Nor did I."

[Alysson]: So are these…not bad elves?

Auralind takes a moment to reorient herself.

Atley just grumbles and keeps moving.

Cressidha looks around with interest.

[Atley]: It's a bloody battlefield.

[Aspenwood]: So it would seem.

Alysson eyes Shattered Sun Sentry up and down.

Atley steps inside. "Exarch Larethor?" he growls. Exarch Larethor raises his head.

Vindicator Xayann says: I don't even want to think about what'll happen here if Auralind ever decides not to come back.

Exarch Larethor says: More soldiers from Shattrath? A welcome sight! Wish there were more of you, but we'll make due with what we have. Whatever's going on out here won't wait for us to make ready.

Exarch Larethor says: Have a look around. There's much that needs doing. Pitch in, do your chair. And yes, the Scryers are with us in this fight. Today, we are allies…

Exarch Larethor mutters reluctantly.

Cressidha looks like she's trying to parse something.

Exarch Larethor says: So, heroes. Welcome to the Sunwell. This is the front. Get yourself settled in and contribute however you can — there is much to do!

Aspenwood nods seriously.

Alysson opens his mouth, glances at Auralind, and closes it again.

Exarch Larethor says: Me? Yes, I have a little something that needs doing, but I'm not certain you're up to the task. We've had a contact embedded in Magisters' Terrace gathering intelligence for us. He's recently failed to report.

Exarch Larethor says: The terrace is just up the rise to the east. The information he was collecting is vital to our mission.

Exarch Larethor says: … Think you can handle it?

Aspenwood frowns faintly. "Yes, of course."

[Cressidha]: Who's your contact?

Exarch Larethor says: You will know them if you see them.

[Cressidha]: …I rather suspect I won't.

Aspenwood looks at the matching tabards. "Are they wearing the tabard at the least?"

Exarch Larethor says: They are sin'dorei, a trusted asset named Tyrith.

[Cressidha]: Very well.

Atley grunts and nods. "Let's move out. We'll find him."

[Alysson]: So a not-bad elf that looks like a bad elf?

Exarch Larethor narrows his eyes at Colson.

Atley grumbles lowly once he spots the Archmage.

[Atley]: We've orders to report to you.

Shattered Sun Marksman says: How many wretched do you think Auralind has put out of their misery?

Alysson looks very interested in the model city on the ground between the floating people.

Archmage Ne'thul had been in the middle of a heated argument. "Should Kil'jaeden rise up through the Sunwell our would be thrown into a war the likes of which had not been seen for 10,000 years —!"

Cressidha looks down at the map.

Alysson slowly reaches out to touch the model.

Archmage Ne'thul turns to admire Cobalt Company. "Kil'jaeden bears down upon this world with the full force of the Burning Legion. Should the summoning complete, our world will once more be flung into the throes of chaos."

Aspenwood’s face is a mild expression of politeness, waiting for the Archmage. "Alysson, please do not touch the war model."

[Alysson]: Aw!

Alysson retracts his hand, sulking.

[Cressidha]: We are here to be of assistance.

Archmage Ne'thul says: Your assistance on the Isle of Quel'Danas is critical to our success against the Burning Legion. Our mages are working on bringing down the barriers blocking access to the Sunwell. Do your part.

Archmage Ne'thul says: Battle the forces of the Legion by helping the Shattered Sun Offensive.

Archmage Ne'thul says: Kael'thas loyalists have taken to calling themselves the 'Dawnblade.' They are our enemies here, and they are feverish in their defense of their master.

[Aspenwood]: Hm.

Archmage Ne'thul says: They have erected numerous barriers to prevent us from gaining access to whatever they're up to in there. Go, now, and join the fight.

Aspenwood salutes automatically.

Atley glares Ne'thul down before he turns to the others. He does not salute.

[Atley]: We've a spy to find.

[Atley]: Let's move.

[Aspenwood]: Understood.

Shattered Sun Marksman says: If it weren't for Auralind, we'd all be long dead.

[Cressidha]: Understood.

[Alysson]: So why were those fellows floatin'?

[Cressidha]: I believe they were showing off, Alysson.

Cressidha says with full sincerity.

Aspenwood's lips twitch.

[Atley]: Be ready for anything.

Aspenwood nods seriously.

Alysson stares at the giant statues. "Whoa."

[Atley]: Vanity.

Atley snarls.

[Auralind]: Hm?

[Cressidha]: A statue.

[Atley]: Statues of the Prince littering the bloody place.

[Auralind]: Let me guess…of Kael'thas?

[Cressidha]: Excessively large.

[Atley]: May as well stock it with mirrors.

[Auralind]: Of course.

[Cressidha]: Hang on…

Cressidha takes out her elemental bracers and summons Marina.

[Atley]: These are blood knights,' mm…?

[Atley]: Blood elves ought to stay away from melee.

Aspenwood touches a hand to his breastplate, for some reason. "Yes." His voice is cold.

[Alysson]: Where's the fellow we're s'posed to find?

[Atley]: Somewhere further in, likely.

[Auralind]: Given what we have learned of Kael's motives here, I am doubly glad I did not bring Shei'van. I have no idea what the consequences could be.

Atley peers over the ledge and scowls.

Aspenwood looks where Dane's looking, a faint frown on his face.

Marina splashes impatiently.

[Atley]: Cannot bloody fathom we fought alongside these curs.

[Alysson]: Buncha purple cubes, they've got there.

[Aspenwood]: They are using the fel with a recklessness I would not expect from them. Though I suppose much has changed.

[Auralind]: You did not know their true history. You could not have realized it was their nature to betray.

Atley grunts at Auralind, seeming partially consoled.

Cressidha rapidly siphons some sort of enchantment from the magister to herself, her casting speed increasing.

Atley grimaces with disgust.

Wretched Skulker says: It seethes and burns…

[Atley]: That's it, then. Their true nature.

[Alysson]: Uh. What's wrong with that guy. An' those guys.

[Cressidha]: Are they infected?

Cressidha looks at Colson.

[Atley]: Addicts, fiends, and degenerates.

Aspenwood frowns harder. "Those may be what are known as the Wretched."

Wretched Husk says: I'll never stop. Never…

[Alysson]: Are we gonna catch what they've got?

[Aspenwood]: No.

[Atley]: No.

[Cressidha]: Good.

[Aspenwood]: It is not infectious. It is part of why they are so desperate.

Wretched Skulker says: The power! More, more, more!

[Atley]: Let's relieve them of their misery, shall we.

[Aspenwood]: Those who are not able to sustain themselves on the arcane…devolve into such.

[Atley]: I'll lure the pack of them around this corner, then we hit them hard.

[Aspenwood]: Understood.

Wretched Bruiser says: It's MINE!

[Auralind]: Mmhm. Humans do not absorb such energies as elves do, Alysson.

Cressidha freezes a pack that go for her brother.

[Cressidha]: Tch.

Aspenwood heals Marina before she can dissipate.

[Alysson]: I'm immune to absorbin'!

Aspenwood doesn't disagree with that.

Atley kicks over the hookah pipe.

Atley peers at Selin Fireheart searchingly.

[Atley]: Light, that one barely even looks like an elf anymore.

Aspenwood frowns harder. "Hm."

[Cressidha]: Hm.

Aspenwood touches his breastplate again, for some reason.

[Atley]: Wot'ever it is, it dies.

[Cressidha]: Understood.

Selin Fireheart yells: You only waste my time!

Selin Fireheart yells: My hunger knows no bounds!

Selin Fireheart begins to channel from the nearby Fel Crystal…

Selin Fireheart yells: Yes!! I am a god!

[Cressidha]: Break the crystal!

Selin Fireheart yells: No… more, I must have more!!

Atley spits on the ground.

[Atley]: Why's it every time we come 'cross something that's a 'god' it gets done in by sword work…

Aspenwood drinks water.

[Alysson]: What's that uh…drawin'? Is that a drawin'?

[Atley]: Mm? Where.

[Cressidha]: On the wall up there?

[Alysson]: Yeah.

[Auralind]: Blasphemers die as easily as anything else.

[Atley]: Bloody hell.

[Aspenwood]: Well.

[Cressidha]: I believe that's a mural, Alysson.

[Auralind]: Describe it?

[Atley]: Auralind… It looks like Hyjal.

[Aspenwood]: I suppose there is something to be said about being rather unsubtle about one's intentions.

[Cressidha]: A type of drawing drawn directly onto a wall.

[Cressidha]: It is of, ah…

Atley goes slightly pale, his jaw setting.

[Auralind]: Hyjal…

[Atley]: The gates of hell itself opening.

[Cressidha]: A powerful demon rising above a crowd of cheering elves. Flames at the bottom of the mural.

Auralind’s pale eyes narrow, her countenance darkening.

[Alysson]: I was gonna say that bat fellow looks like a Tauren, but maybe that's me.

[Aspenwood]: It rather resembles quiet strongly…*A pause as Colson exhales slowly.* Archimonde.

Marina splashes impatiently. She doesn't care about the wall.

[Auralind]: Disgusting Highborne propaganda!

[Atley]: Ought to burn this entire place to the ground.

[Aspenwood]: Though perhaps that is simply a coincidence of the eredar. *Colson's voice sounds mild, but his expression is very neutral.*

[Cressidha]: Shall we move on?

[Aspenwood]: We have a spy to find.

Atley grunts.

[Cressidha]: Mana wurms.

[Cressidha]: They explode.

[Cressidha]: Careful, when you stand close.

[Atley]: Whole nest of them in here.

[Atley]: Colson! Quickly.

Aspenwood moves quickly.

[Cressidha]: Ah!

Tyrith says: C-come closer … Listen carefully to my words …

Aspenwood kneels down, hands bright with the Light as he starts channeling.

Cressidha kneels before Tyrith.

Aspenwood kneels before Tyrith.

Tyrith seems to have been damaged beyond repair by fel magic. He winces in pain as he speaks. "G-go to the terrace … use the orb."

Cressidha keeps an eye on the mana wyrms.

Tyrith says: They're … feeding the sunwell …

Aspenwood has gone very pale for some reason, even as he seems to keep casting. It does not appear to be healing any of the spy's wounds, and Colson's breathing is going a little uneven.

Tyrith gasps for breath. "Hurry… They must be stopped… Stopped, before they can…"

Tyrith’s head falls back, his eyes left open but unseeing.

Cressidha frowns.

[Alysson]: Did he die?

Aspenwood exhales in a hard shock of air, and immediately attempts a resurrection.

[Cressidha]: I'm afraid so.

Atley waits, glaring down at Tyrith before he turns to Colson, trying to clasp him hard on the shoulder.

Cressidha stands, resting a hand on Colson's shoulder.

There's one shoulder for each of them.

[Atley]: Nothing to be done, mate. Wot'ever they did to him.

Aspenwood’s resurrection fails and Colson tries again, his face set in a hard line.

Atley tempers his own voice, and it's still a growl, but more gentle.

[Atley]: Colson. He's gone.

Aspenwood closes his eyes, and there's a moment of real pain on his face before he stands, his expression snapping into an Extreme Neutrality. "Of course. I understand."

Alysson offers Colson a grape. Grapes are good.

Cressidha pats his shoulder and steps back.

Atley releases him as well.

Aspenwood shakes his head to Alysson. "No, thank you, Alysson." He adjusts his gauntlets.

Alysson hangs his head. Rejected.

Aspenwood looks steadily ahead, his face blank.

[Atley]: Now, these worms. Let's move back to the corridor. I'll see 'bout luring small groups of them.

[Cressidha]: Be very careful, if you stand close.

[Atley]: Incoming!

Aspenwood touches a hand to his breastplate, murmuring a prayer.

[Atley]: Bit further in now, you lot.

Cressidha squints at the very bright whatever-that-is.

[Atley]: Mind the cubes.

[Auralind]: What is that?

Aspenwood minds the cubes.

[Atley]: Wot'.

Atley asks Auralind.

[Auralind]: The cube.

[Cressidha]: The cube contains raw mana.

[Atley]: Mm. Mana containers. Came across similar in Netherstorm.

[Auralind]: Ahh, those.

[Atley]: Now this thing. Wot's it, Cress. Pure magic?

Atley points at Vexallus.

[Cressidha]: Perhaps?

Atley grumbles. "Only one bloody way to properly find out, innit'…"

[Alysson]: That's a waste. It should be makin' the curtains fly.

Vexallus yells: Drain… life!

Vexallus yells: Un…con…tainable.

[Alysson]: Why's the magic guy in a room full 'o books?

[Cressidha]: Likely summoned.

[Cressidha]: And then poorly bound. It didn't have binding bracers on.

[Alysson]: Some fellow knows we're here, or they just like the aesthetic?

[Cressidha]: Likely a project of theirs.

[Cressidha]: Remember the experiments in the Botanica?

Alysson wrinkles his nose.

Aspenwood’s face is still very blank, but he nods.

[Atley]: So they just summoned it and let it loose, then.

[Cressidha]: Perhaps.

[Alysson]: In the book room.

[Atley]: Keep an eye out for that orb.

[Atley]: … Well, that'd be it, then.

Aspenwood looks at the orb. Contemplate…orb.

Cressidha moves over to examine it.

Aspenwood watches Cressidha. Surely she will know what to do with the orb.

Kalecgos yells: Be still, mortals, and hearken to my words.

Cressidha touches the orb and frowns. "Come, touch it," she says to the others, closing her eyes.

Atley grumbles and stomps forward, flattening a hand over the orb.

Aspenwood touches the orb, because Cressidha said to.

Alysson does not know how to use the orb. He touches it, but nothing happens. His interest fades and he wanders away.

Aspenwood keeps his eyes closed while he touches the orb, but that doesn't seem to stop the orb from showing orb things. Colson inhales sharply at the sight of the naaru gone Void and says in a soft, sad voice. "M'uru."

[Cressidha]: Auralind, I saw… further east from here. Demons, on a ramp, and then a dark naaru. And then what must have been the Sunwell.

[Cressidha]: There's a… woman in a bubble? Suspended over it?

[Atley]: I saw that. Didn't look to be an elf.

[Atley]: That naaru… Wot've they done to it?

Auralind is a bit distracted, her ears flaring at the sound of enormous wings, feeling the ground shudder as the massive blue dragon lands and shapeshifts into an attractive young man with blue hair.

[Cressidha]: They said they were working on taking down the barrier…

[Auralind]: We have company.

[Cressidha]: Ah.

[Aspenwood]: They caused the naaru to turn Void.

Atley side-eyes Colson.

Cressidha frowns.

[Atley]: Can it come back from that?

[Aspenwood]: I…I do not know. The Draenei do not seem to think so. There are several who have turned Void and they remain so to this day.

[Aspenwood]: Then again, a naaru had never been resurrected before until…recently.

[Aspenwood]: There is always a reason to hold some hope.

Cressidha warily approaches the dragon.

Atley pulls out his sword, eyeing Kalecgos uneasily.

[Atley]: Who are you, then?

Auralind nods respectfully to Kalecgos. "A dragon."

Kalecgos smiles faintly at Auralind and returns the nod. "Very good."

Kalecgos says: I am Kalecgos, of the Blue Dragonflight.

Kalecgos says: I have watched over the nascent powers of the Sunwell for some time, but now I see that its terrible power could usher in the end of our world!

[Cressidha]: My name is Cressidha, of House Aspenwood. We are here representing Cobalt Company.

Atley slowly settles down, but he's still eye Kalecgos.

[Aspenwood]: Colson of House Aspenwood. It is an honor to meet you.

Kalecgos inclines his head to Cressidha before looking expectantly to the others.

[Alysson]: More world endin'?

Aspenwood does not seem surprised that the world might be ending again. This is his day job.

[Atley]: Sir Dane Atley, the Red.

Kalecgos looks to Alysson. "I am afraid so."

[Alysson]: Oh, introductions. I'm Alysson Mondragon, Outhouse Hero.

Auralind bows her head, "Sentinel Auralind Mistwalker."

Cressidha covers her mouth to hide a smile.

Auralind growls quietly at Alysson.

Marina burbles. Is she introducing herself?

Kalecgos seems unfazed by Alysson's title. He does look to Marina and incline his head.

Alysson smiles encouragingly at Marina.

[Atley]: Wot' needs doing, mm … sir?

Kalecgos says: Defeating Kael'thas is a task worthy of your undivided attention. Beyond that, if you are capable of organizing an army, there are many wrongs in the Sunwell to be addressed.

Kalecgos says: Perhaps we shall meet again there.

Cressidha looks at the others.

Atley shakes his head. "Wot' brings you here, exactly?"

Aspenwood still looks rather blank, his face held in lines of neutrality.

Kalecgos says: A friend and I have come to rescue a young human woman from the clutches of the Legionlord, Kil'jaeden and his vile minions.

Kalecgos says: We've discovered that Kael'thas is trying to summon Kil'jaeden from the depths of the Sunwell itself.

Kalecgos says: For the sake of this world - this cannot come to pass! I am committed to seeing that it does not.

Aspenwood nods. He's clearly on board. Save the world, check.

[Atley]: You're not alone here?

Kalecgos says: Madrigosa accompanied me on this journey, but we have become separated in the Sunwell. May fate keep her safe.

[Atley]: I don't understand. Wot' would Kil'jaeden want with a mortal girl?

Cressidha shrugs.

Kalecgos says: Anveena is no mere mortal, human. Those who recognize her true nature stop at nothing to possess her.

Kalecgos says: She once rescued me … and now I tend to return the favor.

Aspenwood frowns.

[Alysson]: So she's an ultra-super-special-princess.

Kalecgos perks a brow at Alysson and softly smirks. "Perhaps in time you will come to understand her true nature, too."

Kalecgos says: I consider it to be no coincidence that our paths cross this day. I sense the very tendrils of destiny…

[Cressidha]: Hm.

Alysson quickly brushes himself off. No tendrils please!

Kalecgos says: In short: welcome to the Sunwell, mortals. Your arrival is indeed timely.

Kalecgos says: As you've now witnessed, the Legion forces work tirelessly, manipulating the Sunwell's power to achieve their malevolent ends.

Auralind bristles a little. Who are you calling mort-…oh wait…right.

Kalecgos says: Kael'thas has risen from the ashes of defeat and once more leads them in their efforts. Find him, mortals. He must again be stopped.

Kalecgos says: Other, equally urgent matters require my immediate attention. I shall leave Kael's fate to you. Do not fail, for the fate of the very world depends on you.

Kalecgos says: With luck, we shall speak again.

Cressidha glances at Colson.

[Alysson]: So if a fellow were to lose a card came…would he summon ashes?

Aspenwood looks at Kalecgos mildly. No pressure. He looks at Cressidha, touching a hand to his breastplate.

[Atley]: Right then. You heard the … man.

Cressidha ignores Alysson this time.

[Atley]: Last time we took on the Prince we had a small army.

[Atley]: There's only the five f'us here. This ought to be the fight of our lives.

[Cressidha]: Perhaps he is weakened?

Cressidha sounds hopeful.

[Atley]: There's no turning back now.

[Aspenwood]: We will do what we can.

Atley grunts.

[Alysson]: What is it with these fellows an' their zappin'?

Aspenwood downs several potions.

[Atley]: Scores of 'em.

[Atley]: Lad, come about. See that one.

Cressidha readies her wool. "Need a sheep?"

[Atley]: Aye, the far one, in the dress.

[Cressidha]: Incoming!

Aspenwood removes the ice magic on his sister. How v dare.

Alysson points in a random direction.

[Alysson]: There's a harpy behind you!

[Atley]: Harpy? Where?

[Alysson]: Heh heh. That's a secret.

Alysson looks proud of himself.

[Atley]: Lad, that one there, on the right.

Aspenwood doesn't sigh as he drinks some water.

[Atley]: Cress, the left. Through the bush.

[Atley]: Hissers, too. The whole lot of them've gathered here.

[Atley]: Kill it first.

[Atley]: Lad, that one in the dress 'gain.

Aspenwood murmurs prayers.

[Atley]: Cress, the pretty one on the left.

[Cressidha]: Understood.

Aspenwood looks mildly at the magisters.

[Alysson]: If I don't get to magic, neither do you, Sister of Torment!

[Atley]: Same as 'fore. Step lively now.

Aspenwood steps lively.

Cressidha drinks water.

[Atley]: We charge straight at them.

[Atley]: Same as 'fore.

[Alysson]: Hey now, let's keep it fair, Sunblade Warlock.

[Atley]: We'll save the wench for last.

[Atley]: Clear out the rest f'the curs first.

[Alysson]: Which one's the wench?

[Atley]: Quite the bloody diverse group there, innit'.

Aspenwood drinks more water, a hand over his heart.

[Atley]: Tall one. Six arms.

[Aspenwood]: The Shivarra.

Alysson notes the wench.

[Atley]: On me, through the blood elf fountain.

[Atley]: The lot on the other side, now.

[Atley]: Right then, as I said. The tall one first. Then the satyr. We'll flank them.

[Aspenwood]: Understood.

[Alysson]: Sneak attack!

[Cressidha]: Ready.

[Atley]: Aye.

Priestess Delrissa yells: Annihilate them.

High Explosive Sheep attempts to run away in fear!

Priestess Delrissa yells: Oh, the horror!

Priestess Delrissa yells: Well aren't you lucky?

Priestess Delrissa yells: Now I'm getting annoyed.

Priestess Delrissa yells: Not what I had… planned.

Atley steps through the curtain, shredding it with his armor.

Aspenwood gently pushes it aside as he passes through.

[Atley]: Another group. I'll learn them about the corner, then we cut them down.
Marina tries to walk through the curtain and for a moment looks like a sheet ghost.

Kael'thas Sunstrider yells: Don't look so smug! I know what you're thinking, but Tempest Keep was merely a set back. Did you honestly believe I would trust the future to some blind, half-night elf mongrel?

[Cressidha]: Really.

[Alysson]: He looks kinda….

Aspenwood exhales slowly.

Kael'thas Sunstrider yells: Oh no, he was merely an instrument, a stepping stone to a much larger plan! It has all led to this… and this time you will not interfere!

Atley glares angrily at Kael'thas Sunstrider.

[Auralind]: You're no better than that mongrel, Prince of Traitors, and we'll put you down just as surely as we did him.

Cressidha glares at Kael'thas.

[Atley]: You heard her! You've been put down once, you can be put down again!

[Atley]: Wot'ever happens, we *work* together.

Aspenwood nods.

Aspenwood murmurs prayers.

Aspenwood touches his hand to his breastplate, inhales deeply, and nods to Dane. "On your mark, Dane."

[Cressidha]: Understood.

[Atley]: Let's dethrone this prince.

[Atley]: GO!

Aspenwood goes.

Kael'thas Sunstrider yells: Vengeance burns!

Kael'thas Sunstrider yells: Felomin Ashal!

Kael'thas Sunstrider yells: I'll turn your world… upside… down.

Kael'thas Sunstrider yells: My demise accomplishes nothing! The master will have you! You will drown in your own blood! The world shall burn! Aaaghh!

Aspenwood holds fast.

[Alysson]: He uh…had a lot to say.

Atley steadies his breath and walks over to the corpse, holding his sword.

Atley raises his weapon and slices off Kael'thas head, spilling foul blood over the fine elven stonework.

Aspenwood frowns as he passes a hand over the body. "Hm."

Auralind’s ears twitch and she turns toward the shattered egg remains.

[Atley]: So passes Kael'thas, son of Anasterian.

You kneel before Kael'thas Sunstrider.

Cressidha steps forward, looking down at the corpse.

Atley remarks flatly, holding the bloodied severed head up.

[Cressidha]: He really … I thought he would have more guards.

[Atley]: Wager we cut through the lot of them.

Aspenwood looks unconvinced. "He lost many of them before, in the battle."

[Atley]: Oi, lad.

[Alysson]: No princess here, huh?

Atley abruptly tosses the head to Alysson.

Alysson juggles it, startled, but does not drop it.

Aspenwood looks up. Oh no, he lost track of Alysson for a second, what is he. Oh, he's just standing there. That's fine.

[Atley]: Keep that secure. That's our prize.

Cressidha puts a hand on Colson's shoulder.

[Cressidha]: … Auralind?

Aspenwood looks back to the body. "I cannot tell if his soul remains here."

[Alysson]: Man. I never get to hold anythin' good.

Atley nudges the headless corpse with a boot. "Doubtful he had a soul when we stepped into this room."

[Aspenwood]: If he has been fully corrupted by the fel…he may indeed no longer have one as such.

[Aspenwood]: And thus he may rise again, if he has gone to the Twisting Nether.

[Atley]: I doubt this will be the last corrupted Prince to fall in our lifetimes…

Auralind sifts through the ashes of the fallen phoenix…which suddenly spark and ignite with a WHOOSH of flame, from which emerges a small hatchling!

[Atley]: Nonetheless, *his* burning crusade has come at an end —

Marina burbles and readies a fist full of water.

[Cressidha]: Marina, no.

Atley startles, readying his sword.

Marina lowers her fist. No splashing? No splashing the fire thing? Fine…

Aspenwood looks up from the body to the phoenix hatchling, a hand raised automatically for a Hand of Protection if needed.

Atley points his sword at the hatchling. "Wot's that, then? A spare?"

[Auralind]: | The tiny phoenix flaps into the air, flitting around Auralind's head before hovering before her, making cooing sounds, little sparks flying from its beak.

Auralind slowly smiles. "Remarkable."

Atley intently stares the hatchling down.

[Cressidha]: Oh…

Atley removes his helmet and pushes his slick hair back against his head, tucking it under his arm.

[Atley]: Seems to've taken a liking to you, Auralind.

[Alysson]: How's that work, a fire bird? Does it catch things on fire when it lands on 'em?

[Cressidha]: We should… we should take that head to someone, yes? There's another translocation orb up on the platform that I suspect will take us out of here…

[Auralind]: I think it has imprinted on me, like a true bird. Yet…it is not, is it, Cressidha? It is an elemental?

[Atley]: Aye, we'll get the head to the Exarch.

Cressidha starts to move closer, then stops. "Marina," she says, and dismisses her own elemental, collecting the bracers.

Aspenwood looks at the orb. Oh, good. More orbs. Great.

Atley glances between Cressidha and the hatchling.

[Cressidha]: They are elemental creatures, yes.

[Atley]: Ought to take it with you. S'another prize of its own, innit'.

Atley looks to Alysson. "Comfortable mattress there, lad?"

[Alysson]: Sure is!

[Atley]: I wager sitting 'pon it makes you the next prince of Quel'thalas, mm?

Aspenwood clears his throat.

[Alysson]: Does it?! I can walk into Silvermoon an' tell 'em that?

[Aspenwood]: No.

[Cressidha]: No.

[Auralind]: Fascinating, and still it mimics beast-like behavior. I must study more on this. I wonder if the Prince has kept any lore on phoenixes here.

Atley scoffs with amusement.

[Cressidha]: There was that library we passed…

[Cressidha]: Would you like some assistance searching it in the future, Auralind?

[Atley]: S'possible they've reinforced since then. We may've to learn more about this beast elsewhere.

Auralind nods. "It might not be safe to return now. But yes, I would appreciate assistance."

[Cressidha]: Of course.

[Atley]: Cressidha, can you tell us where that thing will take us?

[Cressidha]: Let me see…

Atley grunts.

[Atley]: Gather round, you lot. If we do take it, we do't at the same time.

Auralind grimaces. "Another one…"

Cressidha studies the orb. Inside the central red glow is a vision of the destination - outside.

[Cressidha]: … I think it just brings us out of here.

Aspenwood prepares himself, his face set in neutral lines. He closes his eyes, preparing to touch it on command. This is fine.

[Atley]: Right then, as good a way as any. Hands on.

Atley reaches out for it.

Cressidha touches the orb.

Aspenwood hands on.

Aspenwood keeps his eyes closed for a moment longer.

[Atley]: Lad.

Atley gestures to Larethor.

Aspenwood slowly opens them, attempting to get his bearings again.

[Cressidha]: …goodness.

Alysson approaches Larethor and holds the severed head up in front of his own. "Boo!"

Aspenwood is too late to stop Alysson.

The Shattered Sun Offensive Command stares in surprise at not only their abrupt arrival, but Alysson's presented prize.

Cressidha steps in. "I'm sorry to report the demise of your agent Tyrith."

Exarch Larethor says: I must admit, I wasn't sure I'd see you again.

Aspenwood’s face looks blank again.

[Cressidha]: However…

Exarch Larethor says: What came of him?

Cressidha hesitates. She puts a hand on Colson's arm.

Aspenwood sets his hand over Cressidha's, his face Extremely Neutral, staring at some middle distance.

[Cressidha]: He was wounded beyond healing.

Alysson tosses the head at Larethor. This is how one delivers heads.

[Atley]: Died. Some fel magic. We couldn't do anything.

[Atley]: We pressed on and got a look at the Sunwell. They're bloody well fortified.

[Atley]: Prince Kael'thas — well.

[Cressidha]: He directed us to a scrying orb within the terrace that has a view of the Sunwell.

[Aspenwood]: His mission was successful.

Atley gestures to Alysson.

[Atley]: There's another, poking about in there. Kalecgos, a blue dragon.

[Cressidha]: M'uru has fallen to void. He is being kept there, in the Sunwell. As well as… a human woman, Anveena.

Exarch Larethor visibly goes through a mix of emotions at their news. Triumphant, with the head, before he once again turns dour at the report on M'uru.

[Aspenwood]: There is…*Colson exhales slowly.* There is a prophecy, as I understand it.

[Aspenwood]: One of Prophet Velen's, of M'uru.

Exarch Larethor goes through a mix of emotions upon their report. Triumphant, with Kael'thas head, to dour at the mention of the prophecy.

[Aspenwood]: He fell to the Void two days ago.

Exarch Larethor says: Even with the death of the prince, the fight continues…

[Cressidha]: Kael'thas was leading these efforts, but I have no doubt his people will continue, yes.

Exarch Larethor says: Tyrith will be missed - good man, that one. Thanks to you, though, his death wasn't in vain.

Aspenwood looks down at his hands at that.

Exarch Larethor says: I've underestimated you. All of you. Please, accept this on behalf of the Sunwell Offensive - a gift worthy of heroes such as yourselves.

Cressidha pats Colson's arm gently.

Exarch Larethor presents a number of rare gems.

Cressidha starts to say, "Oh, no, I couldn't," and then sees the gems. "Ah. Thank you," she says, and picks out a Teardrop Crimson Spinel for herself.

Aspenwood looks at them. There's something in his face, as he selects the same, turning it over his hand. "Thank you."

Aspenwood holds the gem, staring at it like maybe it's a scrying orb.

Atley gruffly reaches out for a gem.

[Atley]: White Squad, let's step out and debrief.

[Aspenwood]: Yessir.

Cressidha nods.

Atley nods to Larethor. "Exarch."

Drill Sergeant Bahduum says: Needless to say, a lot of us won't be going home. But if you remember your training and keep your wits about you, you'll greatly increase your chances.

[Atley]: The prince is dead, but the fight here's far from over.

Drill Sergeant Bahduum says: That's all I have to say for now. Stay focused, boys and girls.

[Atley]: It's not properly sunk in for myself just how far we've come, and how far we've yet to go.

Aspenwood nods as he sets the gem gently into a bit of silk, packing it away in a bag, his face carefully blank.

[Cressidha]: Even though we just passed over a severed head, somehow I don't feel confident in his demise…

[Cressidha]: Fool me once…

[Aspenwood]: Neither do I.

[Alysson]: Is he gonna be the fellow runnin' 'round at the next Hallows End?

[Aspenwood]: No.

Aspenwood pauses.

Cressidha laughs, surprised.

[Aspenwood]: No.

Atley scoffs with amusement at that.

[Atley]: You've come far yourself, lad. I'll admit I was not certain of your ability when we met.

[Atley]: You're still mouthy and thoughtless more often than I'd like … but a fine blade by our side.

[Alysson]: Hey! I've got lots of thoughts!

[Auralind]: We will work on the mouth. I am not sure there is much to be done about the thoughts.

Atley grunts dubiously before he flashes Auralind a vain look of amusement.

[Cressidha]: He does have lots of thoughts.

Aspenwood’s lips twitch.

[Atley]: We're dismissed. Go rest. Light knows we've bloody earned it.

[Cressidha]: They are incredibly varied.

[Cressidha]: Would anyone care for a portal back to Shattrath?

[Aspenwood]: Light be with you all.

[Cressidha]: I may remain here to see how I can offer additional aid.

[Atley]: I'd take one.

Atley grunts at Cressidha.

Cressidha produces a portal stone. "Well done, everyone."

Aspenwood touches a hand to his breastplate. "I shall return to Shattrath."

Cressidha nods.

Alysson waves cheerily as he steps through the portal.

Aspenwood closes his eyes before he steps through.

[Atley]: Colson! Hold fast. I'd have a word, alone.

Aspenwood has immediately swapped his aura. Bunny swoops down, and Colson pauses in the middle of mounting up.

[Aspenwood]: Yes, Dane?

Atley stares Colson in the face, features grave.

[Atley]: Tyrith was as good as dead 'fore we got there. Know that.

Aspenwood looks equally so, and he glances in the direction of the infirmary, before he turns his attention back to Dane, a flicker of something in his eyes. "I am aware, Dane."