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| Details |
| Author: | Disknight |
| Summary: | Velrin's joint company is sent on a mission to rescue a number of men from Leric Tennerow's company who have been taken prisoner in Gjalerbron. Leric and Kalindra continue to become acquainted with one another. |
| Rating: | T for Teen |
Arc: Ringside Seats
Kalindra stands stiff, seemingly unphased by the bitter cold of the slopes of the Howling Fjord. She grips the hilt of her blade tightly in one hand, ready to bring it round her front to draw at a moment’s notice.
Meanwhile, Taeavon helps his hawk preen a few feathers on his head. Darinir stands tall, wrapped up in his cloak, fully confident that all of the enchantments on his arrows are in proper order. Riluvia makes her way about her sisters asking after any concerns they might have while Orena stands watch at the front, making sure none of the vrykul launch a surprise attack before Velrin returns from her reconnaissance.
Kalindra lets out what would have sounded like a sigh if not for centuries of practice in manners, “I detest waiting…”
There’s an air of impatience not dulled by centuries of manners in the two Valiance soldiers, though perhaps it’s simply because it is their friends who are in danger of sacrifice. Leric, now in his gleaming, bespoke, blue-and-gold armor, stands by Kalindra and watches for the return of the scout with a steely gaze. One hand taps against the sheath of his sword, a quiet sound that nevertheless clearly states his eagerness for combat. Brendan, a pale, dark-haired man, sits near Orena, nervously sharpening a knife with rote movements as he keeps his eye on Gjalerbron.
“A necessary evil,” Leric says, nodding slightly. “Better waiting than charging in with no information. We must avoid needless risk of our own lives. But… if Captain Silverbloom doesn’t return soon, it may be wise to follow her.”
“If Captain Silverbloom had failed, we would have noticed.” Kalindra stands firm, gazing out to Gjalerbron, “She may be an assassin but she is a formidable warrior in her own right. The vrykul would pay dearly for their discovery.” There is an odd mixture of admiration and frustration in her voice.
Velrin suddenly emerges from the shadows behind Orena and flicks her ear. Orena jumps and bites her tongue to not yell at her for it.
Kalindra lets out a breath she was holding, “Good.”
“Already,” Leric smiles in relief. He turns to Kalindra. “Let’s hear the news.”
“Agreed.” Kalindra loosens her grip on her blade and moves to meet with the scouts.
The officers all gather in the back. Velrin speaks up first to inform everyone of the situation, “Everything seems to be in order. The prisoners are still alive and are being held exactly where the Valiance team expected them to be.” Velrin grins, “And we located the lich’s phylactery.”
Darinir nods, stoic as ever, “That is good. Now for our plan of attack. Naturally, extraction of the prisoners and the safety of our own is our top priority.”
“Top priority, but we can’t do that without handling the lich,” Brendan says, his gaze shifting towards the snowy, luridly glowing expanse of Gjalerbron nervously. “Even if we got them out of their cages, they’d be in no shape to escape through the enemy lines. I was only held for a few days, and I could… I could barely walk.”
“The lich will not be an issue.” Velrin speaks up, “I’ve faced a few before in the Plaguelands. All I require to make it so is a competent mage.” She looks to Darinir imploringly.
Darinir responds sternly, “Need I remind you, Silverbloom, we are rangers. I am by far the most adept mage in my company, but my leadership will be needed to maintain order on the line while you, I assume, will be pressing ahead to eliminate their leader.” He finishes with notable distaste.
“My thoughts exactly,” Velrin responds, either missing or ignoring Darinir’s tone, “Taeavon is the next most experienced mage in your company is he not?” Taeavon smiles proudly despite himself, “I will take him with me. The main force can engage to draw the lich and its forces out. Taeavon will destroy the phylactery while I lie in wait to engage the lich.” She looks about to the other commanders to see how they feel about her plan.
“Will two be enough to handle a lich, even with the phylactery?” Leric asks Velrin. “I wish our own captain could have been here, or more of our team. I get that we’re at war, but… sometimes I wonder about Captain Adams’s priorities.”
“Taeavon will be perfectly capable to perform his task.” Darinir assures him, “His mother is an archmage in the Violet Citadel. His education is second to none and he is accustomed to working behind enemy lines.”
Taeavon nods, “Leave it to me. I’ll have an extra set of eyes looking out for me.” Taeavon grins as his hawk companion, Thoridas, lets out a scream from where he is perched on his shoulder.
Velrin grins as well, “Then it looks like everything is in order. Darinir, Kalindra, I am counting on you to maintain pressure on the lich’s guard and be prepared to engage when I make my move.”
Darinir nods without another word. Kalindra salutes enthusiastically, “Consider it done, first captain.”
“Where do we fit into the plan?” Leric asks, his gaze darting to the team of unfamiliar elves.
Velrin narrows her eyes in thought, “Hmmm… our team is lacking in proper footsoldiers…” she smiles, “Kalindra, I leave them to you. An elf knight and human warriors fighting side by side. Just like old times…” she finishes nostalgically.
Leric gives Velrin a quizzical look and says, “I would remind you, Captain, that I am an officer. One of equal rank to your Kalindra in my own organization, as it happens.” He glances at Brendan and adds, “No insult to our enlisted men intended, of course.”
“None taken, sir,” Brendan says with a hint of a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “I was a blacksmith before this campaign, and I hope I can return to it after. I’ve a wife and daughter waiting for me. I’ll serve - as a footsoldier, aye - but this is not my calling.”
“Anyway,” Leric continues. “I’ll assume what you meant is someone who fights on foot, with sword rather than bow. Though I’m also a more than fair archer, should the need arise.”
“My apologies.” Velrin bows, “I did not mean to offend. We are a scout unit and would benefit much from implacable troops such as yourselves. I will be sure to provide you all with a commendation for your service once we have won. Something you might tell your daughter about perhaps.” Velrin winks to Brendan, “But you will forgive me if I am unwilling to give up command of my sisters.”
Kalindra shifts her weight and glances over to Leric.
“However,” Velrin continues, “I still must recognize your rank. You will serve as an adjutant to Kalindra. The front will want for stronger communication in the battle to come. Is this satisfactory?” Velrin looks at Leric. Her look feels genuine and open to response if it is not.
Leric thinks it over, and then nods. “I would not want to attempt to usurp command in a company that is not my own, of course.” He turns to Kalindra, and offers, “Brendan and I will take the front lines, keep your sisters free to fight as they will? And we’ll defend the rescued, on the retreat.”
Kalindra smirks at Leric’s use of the Kaldorei’s application of the word “sister.” She stands tall and shakes her hips, rattling her blade in its scabbard, “That is pleasing to me.” She looks quite pleased, “I shall relish any opportunity to take the offensive on the Scourge.” She looks at Leric with a lethal smile.
“That mindset, I can appreciate,” Leric smiles back at her. “We’re ready when you are.”
Kalindra nods to him and turns to Velrin.
“Tal anu’men no belor’dorei.” Velrin replies with a twinkle in her eye.
Darinir raises an eyebrow at her. Taeavon looks confused for a moment, then smiles. Kalindra sets her jaw and returns Velrin’s look and responds, “Selama ashal’anore.”
Brendan looks at Leric curiously, as if maybe he’s going to translate the Thalassian. Leric raises one hand in a kind of armored shrug.
“We’ll start in and you’ll follow?” Leric asks Kalindra, his tone now the clipped, official sound of a soldier on the job.
“I leave the rest to you, Captain.” Velrin says to Darinir.
“Of course. It will be done.” He replies with a mixture of pride and annoyance.
Velrin and Taeavon nod to one another and set off, sneaking ahead towards Gjalerbron, Velrin slipping into a shadow and Taeavon performing an incantation to make himself invisible.
“Lead the way, Sir Tennerow.” Kalindra motions forward with her head, her hand remaining firmly on the hilt of her blade.
Leric and Brendan move forward up the rocky, frozen slopes into Gjalerbron side by side, making no effort at stealth. A vrykul shouts out a warning as they approach, but that warning is quickly silenced by the swordsmen rushing forward. Brendan may not have the finesse and experience of Leric at swordplay, but he holds up his side well, keeping the enemy at bay as they push forward. Forcing their way through the vrykul warriors, they pass by vents in the ground, the source of the sickly, greenish light that escapes into the air. Brendan eyes the light warily as they pass, his brow drawing in as he realizes it must be coming from where their friends are held.
Kalindra follows close behind. She keeps one hand on her blade and the other on its scabbard, ready to draw at a moment’s notice. Darinir and the rest of the rangers keep a little more distance, loosing arrows steadily to slow the enemy’s counterattack. Meanwhile Orena and Riluvia form teams on the flanks, ready to strike when the time comes.
Brendan flinches as an arrow whistles by his ear. The arrow finds its target in an approaching vrykul, who collapses onto the frosty ground. Brendan nods a thanks back toward Darinir and the rangers, as they continue.
There are cages scattered throughout the camp as they make their way through, many of them empty. Leric hesitates by a cage with a sad-eyed Tauren inside, but reluctantly turns away. His quiet voice might be lost in the heat of battle, but he mutters, “I’ll come back for you, if I can.”
Soon, they make it to the dark and forbidding entrance to the ‘Halls of Awakening’ below. Leric pauses before entering, glancing at Kalindra to check her readiness to descend.
She nods and follows Leric and Brendan down into what looks very much like a crypt. The tight quarters make for a poor battleground for the unit composed primarily of archers, so only a handful of Kalindra’s men who are most skilled with swords follow her down. The rest remain above ground to hold the position until they are ready to retreat.
The vrykul guarding the underground halls are quick to take advantage of their enemy’s reduced numbers. A pair of them rush the intruders, one for Brendan and one for Leric. The rangers step forward to support Brendan. The vrykul headed for Leric raises his weapon and charges, roaring as he does, but his attack is cut short as he finds himself falling face first to the ground, his left leg no longer attached to his body. Kalindra stands beside the giant, her blade suddenly drawn.
In quick, complementary motion, Leric slashes down to finish the vrykul. He nods a quick thanks to Kalindra and looks over to Brendan.
For his part, Brendan is making a better showing than one might expect from his earlier modesty. He may not be a champion fencer, but he clearly knows how to fight and has the strength to meet and deflect the attack from a larger enemy. It isn’t long before that vrykul falls, and he and the elven rangers are ready to continue.
Leric pauses and looks at Kalindra. “They should be a little farther in. Have you been in one of these vrykul strongholds before? There are… lines of them. Sleeping. But they won’t wake, not without some very particular ritual.”
Kalindra twirls her blade, shaking the blood off of it with a flourish, “I haven’t, and I don’t care to get overly acquainted with one right now.” The sounds of battle coming from outside progressively get louder and louder as more and more vyrkul come down to defend the crypt.
“I would not want to overstay our lack of welcome,” Leric says, glancing back at the sound. “I just wanted to be clear. Sleeping vrykul are safely ignorable, and we don’t need to watch our noise around them. Let’s move on?”
“Of course.” Kalindra keeps by his side, blade ready.
“To the gate! The whelps have come back for their little friends.” The shout comes from another group of vrykul from down the hall, “Kill them and get ready to sacrifice the prisoners. I want more warriors to gut the knife-ears outside!”
Kalindra sets her jaw and raises her blade, “Shall we go introduce ourselves?”
Leric gives a fierce smile and raises his blade in answer. “It would be rude to keep them waiting.”
Leric and Brendan lead the way further into the crypt, down the corridor and around a corner into the entrance to a wider open room. As predicted, the walls are lined with what look like caskets filled with sleeping vrykul. However, it’s the ones that are awake that are the problem now, a group of three warriors that send up a yell when they see the invaders. Two more stand by, in Scourge robes that mark them as necromancers. Leric and Brendan move further into the room, swords high, to make room for the rest of the ‘knife-ears’ to enter and make their introductions.
With their new enemy further off, the rangers switch to their bows and loose arrows to cover Kalindra’s advance. A blue light flashes from her feet and she rushes forward at breakneck speed, running through a vrykul who had raised his weapons to block the arrows aimed for his throat, “Keep pushing! Remember our objective is to rescue the prisoners, not fight! The others outside won’t last forever!”
Brendan and Leric push into the fray, moving around and with Kalindra as the rangers’ arrows find their targets with deadly precision. The remaining vrykul that are awake dwindles to three, then two, and then none.
Leric looks around afterward to get his bearings, trying to find which hallway leads to their friends. Brendan is breathing in shallow gasps, looking at the lines of neatly organized dormant vrykul looming all around him. Leric catches sight of him and frowns.
“Thorne,” he says. “Brendan Thorne, are you able to continue?”
Brendan shakes himself and nods, taking a breath. “Yes, sir. Sorry, sir. Let’s find them and get out of here.”
“They’re over here!” A booming voice echoes from the opposite hall, “Get in there and fight! I’ve been sitting around here too long. I could use the entertainment.” Another, larger group of vrykul are coming.
“Go!” Kalindra yells to Leric and Brendan, “I shall hold them here.” She flourishes with her sword and taunts the charging vrykul.
Leric, who is now properly oriented, tilts his head toward a nearby hallway. Brendan nods and follows him as they move away from the sound of combat, though he keeps an eye on their line of retreat.
There's a turn, then another, and then they find themselves in a vrykul-lined room with cages lined up two by three in the center. One woman, her leather armor stained with neglect and her hair ragged, leans forward to grab the bars on the cage's door. She stares out blearily at them.
"Is this a trick?" She says in a hoarse voice. "Some new magic?"
"No, Dela," Leric says, his expression softening. "We're really here. Can you walk? We're getting you out."
Dela nods, struggling to her feet and says,"We can. We'll have to. I didn't think Adams would send anyone after us."
"Well, Adams…" Leric pauses, then seems to decide getting into that would not be good for morale. "We’ve secured some interesting new allies, to make this happen. But enough for now, we need to move."
He gestures to Brendan, who knows his role at this stage. He's no lockpick, but as a blacksmith he has a more direct way of opening a lock. Clanking of metal on metal rings through the room as he works with a hammer and wedge to shatter the lock on the doors. True to expectation, the dormant vrykul do not wake.
Dela staggers out and Leric offers his support as Brendan frees the remaining five people. Soon, the ragged, stumbling group is making their way back up to where Kalindra's team holds the path to safety.
The elf knight stands alone at a doorway with a horde of vrykul and Scourge monstrosities behind it. There are fresh corpses scattered from where a few of their number were shot down by the rangers. The rest keep a safe distance for the time being, though, letting their champion and his twin axes duel with Kalindra. The rangers keep arrows trained on the vrykul in the wings while their officer fights alone, unwilling to risk missing and hitting her in the chaos.
Startlingly, it seems as if Kalindra is able to match his strength, her long blade turning away the powerful axe strikes of the giant with relative ease, but with two of them to deal with, she finds little opening for an attack of her own. “Is that the best you can do!?!” She screams
“Hah! This knife-ear is even scrawnier than those malformed whelps!” The vrykul champion laughs, “I’m going to enjoy ripping you apart piece by piece!”
The feathers on Kalindra’s armor shine, “That’s if you can catch someone you can’t see.” Kalindra leaves herself wide open to the next attack, her blade held back preparing to take the offensive. The vrykul swings down with both his axes. Kalindra grins, “You’re mine!” The axes slam down, but not on the elf. A large feather made of shining blue force manifests in front of the strike and is shattered, sending the vrykul reeling. Kalindra takes the opening and swings, but the vrykul is faster than he looks. He manages to step back and bring up an axe to soften the blow. In the end, Kalindra only manages to graze him with the tip of her sword, slashing shut just one eye.
The vrykul is enraged and fights on with renewed ferocity. Kalindra keeps pace with her defense, but it is clear that she is gradually tiring and slowing down. However, if she feels any fear, it doesn’t reach her face, and she fights on.
Leric helps Dela lean against one of the cold, stone walls and moves forward, drawing his sword. He moves in beside Kalindra in the doorway, trusting her to sense the presence of an ally and not another enemy.
“Hey!” He calls, trying to get the attention of the vrykul with the twin axes, as he brings his sword around into a quick, obvious attack. It’s possible Leric is not even intending this strike to hit, but rather to draw attention and force a shift of focus.
The vrykul reacts swiftly and swats the blow out of the way, but Kalindra takes the opportunity to press her advantage and strikes again. The second axe is able to turn her blade as well, but now he is the one on the defensive.
“I’ll keep at it! Get ready…” Kalindra pants. She pushes deep down inside of her, clamoring for every last ounce of strength she can muster. Her attacks pick up pace and the vrykul begins to take a few hesitant steps back.
Leric nods and moves in by Kalindra’s side, pressing the attack on the vrykul and coordinating his movement with Kalindra almost like an attentive dance partner. The vrykul is forced back one step, then another.
“Good! Now on me!” Kalindra keeps swinging, drawing the vrykul’s guard higher and higher up. The others behind him start to mumble worriedly. Right as the vrykul is about to lose balance, Kalindra leaps up to deliver a powerful downward slash. The ring of her sword against the twin axes echoes through the halls. The vrykul barely manages to keep his footing with his arms raised above his head and his lower half completely open, “Now!” Kalindra yells.
Leric reacts immediately on her call, lunging forward to slash through the vrykul’s torso. This time, the vrykul cannot react quickly to his second opponent. He falls in a spray of blood. Leric steps back, breathing heavily and grinning toward Kalindra, flecks of blood on his face. “Let’s go, before they regroup.”
Kalindra responds with only a nod, too out of breath for words, but there is a thankful look in her eyes.
The group wastes no time in pushing ahead and out of the crypt. The rangers turn their bows once more on the now shaken vrykul who have since lost their appetite for battle.
Leric sheaths his sword and turns back to help Brendan and the ragged crew of former prisoners towards the light of day. There’s a cry of relief audible above the noises of combat as the prisoners begin to believe that maybe they will make it to safety. He looks over at Kalindra as they step into daylight and calls, “Any news from above? I haven’t seen any sign of…”
As the rescue team emerges from the crypt to a cacophony of violence. The high elf rangers in the front are doing their best to hold back the tide of vrykul warriors while the night elf archers and huntresses harass the enemy from the flanks to disorient them and prevent them from launching a proper offensive. One that would truly overwhelm the scout company.
But none of this is the main focus of the battle. The lich is there, surrounded by vrykul guards and facing off against Darinir, guarded by his own men. The bolts of ice and enchanted flaming arrows crash into one another in spectacular display.
Kalindra clenches her jaw and tightens her grip on her sword.
Leric steps in front of the freed prisoners, drawing his sword again as his face goes pale. He calls back to them, “The lich goes down, we run, as fast as you can manage.”
Kalindra stands by his side as they wait for the lich to be defeated, striking down any more vrykul that get close. It feels like hours go by and with each minute the elves are being driven further and further back.
Kalindra gets a grave look in her eye but says nothing.
Leric shares a glance with Brendan and his grip tightens on his sword. To Kalindra, he says in a low voice, “If the lich doesn’t go down…”
Kalindra takes a furtive glace back at Leric and swallows. She opens her mouth to speak, but closes it again before any words come out.
Suddenly, there is a sound from high above in the sky: a hawk’s scream. The lich flinches from some unseen influence, “What!? No!” he says in an icy whisper, “Retreat! Fall back! Let the elves have their prisoners!” He begins to conjure up a wall of ice in front of him, but seemingly out of nowhere, Velrin emerges from the shadows above his head, brandishing her daggers.
“Die.” Velrin says with a wicked grin. She plunges her daggers deep into the lich’s ribcage. He tries to retaliate with a blast of cold, but his spells seem to be taking more effort to cast now and he’s too late. Velrin flips off from his shoulders and joins the melee on the front with a torrent of steel, turning the tide in their favor.
Kalindra smiles, “Hah… Th-they did it!” Her whole body relaxes.
Leric whispers something that might be thank the Light and lowers his sword. He nods to Kalindra and moves back to help the freed prisoners.
“You certainly took your time…” Darinir grumbles. He knocks an arrow and holds it back while performing an incantation. A large circle of runes appear in the air in a ring in front of the arrow. The lich scrambles to perform a counterspell, but again, he is too late.
“Burn.” Darinir releases the arrow and it shoots off as fast as a bullet. It strikes the lich and erupts into a giant pillar of flame, consuming the undead and his vrykul guards.
Brendan and Leric hurry the six ragged rescuees along, though they don’t seem to be able to move at much faster than walking.
“Kalindra, can they cover us at this speed?” Leric asks, as they move slowly toward safety.
More arrows come whizzing from further back, picking off a few more vrykul. Taeavon is running down from Gjalerbron with Thoridas covering his retreat.
With the lich gone, the vrykul’s leadership is in tatters and the two night elf lieutenants take great advantage of the chaos, tearing into their ranks.
“Push forward to the prisoners!” Velrin shouts, “We move to secure them and carry them back to safety!” She leads a charge toward Leric and Kalindra’s position.
Kalindra blinks, “I… I dare say they can…”
Something relaxes in Leric’s stance and he nods, turning to focus on keeping the prisoners safe from harm. On the way out, they pass back by the cages containing the Horde prisoners. Leric shoots a look at Brendan and he heads over, hastily breaking the locks the same way he did below. A few members of the Horde, a tauren and a blood elf, say something that sounds relieved in their foreign tongue before they flee…
It might have taken and hour or only a few minutes, the way time stretches in combat, but eventually they’re far enough away from Gjalerbron to call a halt.
Kalindra doesn’t sheath her blade until the halt is called. After a few moments, the adrenaline slows and she turns to Leric, “I suppose I owe you my thanks. I would have perished in that battle if not for you.”
The rangers all take part in tending to their wounded and to the rescued prisoners while the Sentinels form a perimeter around them. Darinir seems to be directing the effort while Velrin aids in tending to patients herself.
“You have my thanks as well, for making the rescue possible in the first place,” Leric says with a smile, as he looks over the living and back to Kalindra. “I am glad we were able to arrange the mission before other, less straightforward, responsibilities forced me away.”
“Of course.” She nods, “It would speak ill of my house and of myself were I to turn a blind eye to an ally in need.”
Leric nods. “And I would always be happy to return the favor, you have my word on that.” He hesitates, and then adds, “Where will you go next, do you think? Back to Dalaran?”
“I’ll remember that, Sir Tennerow.” Kalindra grins, “And yes. That is where our company is headquartered. However I have some business to attend to in Stormwind tomorrow, so I will be making ready to leave.”
“Stormwind?” Leric raises an eyebrow. “I’m headed to Elwynn tomorrow, myself. Some party my sister insists I absolutely must attend. I gather it’s something to honor veterans and the war effort, so hopefully not as frivolous as she made it sound.”
Kalindra chuckles, “It seems fate has chosen to allow us to meet again. That party is the business I was referring to.”
“Really? The charity gala the Fallons and the Ferences are throwing?” Leric laughs. “Every so often, I’m reminded of what a small world we live in.”
She smirks, “The very same.” She pauses for a moment, “And yes. A small world indeed. Smaller than it used to be…”
“Mages,” Leric shakes his head, but smiles. “Making it so one can step directly from Dalaran to Stormwind and back. Smaller indeed.”
“That’s, well…” Kalindra shakes her head, “Yes. It’s quite a marvel.”
“Well… speaking of travel, we should get back to Westguard Keep, and make certain these people find food and rest.” A faint hint of humor leaks into his smile as he adds, in a very proper tone, “But perhaps we’ll run into one another at the gala, Lady Kalindra?”
She nods, agreeing with his plans for the rescued soldiers and returns his smile, “I shall keep my eyes open.”