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| Details |
| Author: | Disknight |
| Summary: | A few brief moments showing how Velrin, Taeavon, Kalindra, Darinir, and Commander Oceansong dealt with the aftermath of the Wrathgate Incident. |
| Rating: | M for Mature 17+ |
Arc: Wrathgate
“THEY DID WHAT!?!” Velrin shoots onto her feet and screams. She clenches her fists so tightly that her nails draw blood as they dig into her palms.
Taeavon tries to keep a brave face, “That’s what all the reports have been saying, but there aren’t many of them.” Taeavon’s breath catches, “Captain Darinir is hanging onto that detail, hoping that it’s all just a rumor, but…” he swallows, “The fact that there were so few survivors to make reports at all… feels like more proof to me than any message…”
“RREAAAEEEHHGHHHGHA!!!” Velrin grabs hold of her desk and flips it. It flies up with such force that it hits the ceiling and then crashes back to the floor, snapping off one of its legs.
Taeavon moves his hands in front of him, “Easy, captain… We’ll get through this. Just like we’ve gotten through everything else. It’s not like this is your fault…”
“‘Not my fault,’ you say?” Velrin spits, “Years ago I was working on a mission with another mercenary company, The Silver Rose. We had uncovered a plot of the Forsaken developing a new plague and testing it out on a barrow of sleeping druids.” Velrin’s eyes shine with blinding radiance.
Taeavon shivers and steps back from the sheer presence of her. But his stomach turns when the gravity of Velrin’s words finally hits him. His eyebrows cross with anger.
“This isn’t even the first time those walking corpses have dared show their true colors!” Velrin roars, “I thought that destroying their research and killing all those responsible was lesson enough…” Velrin snarls and paces back from where he desk used to be. She takes a deep breath and runs her fingers through her hair. When she turns back to Tae, she is eerily calm, “Very well. Far be it from me to turn away from a stubborn pupil.”
“Captain…” Taeavon warns, his voice cracking.
“Oh spare me.” she hisses. Velrin is already gathering up the rest of her weapons and equipment, “I know you feel the same way.”
Taeavon growls, “Of course I’m angry! This is unthinkable!” he yells, “But how does this help anyone? The Scourge is our real enemy!”
Velrin scoffs, “Are they? Our offensives had been quite successful until today.”
Taeavon tries to protest but cannot. He clenches his teeth.
Velrin continues to gather her things, “May their only solace be the harsh light of day.” Velrin recites in Darnassian. “Blessed be the worms that shall feast on their tainted remains. May they keep their stomachs and endure this foul work.” Taeavon had heard her say this prayer with her sisters before battle, but this new line he didn’t recognize, “The moon is our bow, the stars our arrows, and the shadows our cloak. Wherever the night sky touches, so too shall our blades be. May Elune show mercy on them, for I will not.”
“Velrin.” Taeavon pleads with her as she stands in the doorway, bow in hand.
She looks back at him, eyes still burning, “Don’t follow me.” She storms outside.
Once Velrin is out of earshot, Taeavon steps outside and whistles.
Thoridas swoops down from the tower he had been resting in and warbles at him.
“Follow her.” Taeavon holds up the knife that Velrin had gifted to him when their companies joined in Northrend. Darinir and Kalindra each had one as well.
Thoridas chirps and takes to the skies.
Taeavon presses his face into his hands and sighs, “I’m sorry dad…”
There was a twenty minute delay between one relief group’s return and the next one’s departure. Kalindra had twenty minutes to pull herself back together and set off again to fight and search for survivors. She pulled out a small box and opened it. It was full of bloodthistle powder.
When the news came in, after she had gotten over the initial shock and anger from the betrayal, Kalindra’s worry turned to Leric. She knew he had been stationed near the Wrathgate and hadn’t heard from him since. At first she thought of trying to send messengers across the area to try and find him, but what good would that do him? The undead were everywhere and messengers had no power to protect her would-be fiance.
Instead she purchased some bloodthistle from one of her subordinates for a bit of gold and a promise to not reveal that they had a stash of the substance. She sniffed it up. Her head throbbed at the sudden rush of magic, but it… felt good… The world looked so vibrant and she could feel the strength coming back to her weary muscles.
Darinir knocked on the door then quickly opened it and walked inside. “Kalindra…”
She stuffed the box back into her pocket before Darinir could see it, “Yes captain?”
“You’re planning to head out again aren’t you?” He noted that her eyes were starting to look more turquoise than blue now, but said nothing.
Kalindra stood and sheathed her sword, letting the enchanted whetstone that was sharpening it clatter on the table, “Yes sir.”
He sighed, “Please. You have been on every relief team that has left this fortress for the past sixty-five hours. You have done your part thrice over.”
“A cold comfort to any of the survivors still on the battlefield.” Kalindra replied matter of factly.
“Almost as cold as news of you collapsing and meeting your end on the battlefield yourself, Lady Azuredown.” Darinir replied without missing a beat.
Kalindra walked over and gave him as even of a gaze as she could with all this magic rushing through her body, “My mind is made up, captain.”
“Kalindra. You’re too important to be risking your safety like this. You’re one of the few nobles who didn’t follow the Sin’dorei in their folly!” He grabbed her shoulder, “Think of your future! Our future…”
Kalindra placed her hand around his wrist and slid his hand off of her, “I am.” Darinir relented as she pushed him out of the doorway and walked out.
Darinir took a deep breath and closed his eyes, “If I hear news of the Tennerow boy, you will be the first to know.”
Kalindra stopped for a moment and looked back at him, “Thank you.”
Darinir storms into Fyrdriel Oceansong’s office, “Commander. I am here to lodge a formal complaint concerning the actions of Captain Silverbloom.”
Commander Oceansong looks up from the papers on her desk and raises an eyebrow, “I will hear it.”
“Thank you.” Darinir only just now stops to bow to his superior, “I believe her to be brash, reckless, and unfit to hold command of our joint company. In fact, I have been in a leadership position for centuries longer than her and I-”
“If this is about her being missing right now, you can save your breath.” She interrupts. She waves a hand to dismiss Darinir and goes to look back down at her desk, but Darinir interrupts as well.
“This is only the most recent example, Commander.” He says pointedly, “She regularly sets herself, the commanding officer, in the thickest parts of battle, insists she do her own reconnaissance, and has engaged enemies far beyond our capabilities time and time again without waiting for reinforcements, risking all of our lives on the success of one of her hasty strategies!”
“And she has failed when exactly?” Commander Oceansong interjects.
Darinir grumbles, “That is beside my point! Such impulsiveness is unbecoming of someone of her station!” Darinir restrains himself from stomping his foot, “And she sets a poor example for her subordinates. Need I remind you that one of my own lieutenants has gone missing with her?”
Commander Oceansong blinks, “That much, at least, is news to me. However, I have yet to hear an adequate reason for her to be relieved of command. Her methods may be a bit uncouth, but she is a hero: something Azeroth desperately needs right now.”
“What Azeroth needs is leaders who won’t run off and risk destroying all of the work we have done to make peace with our enemies in a fit of rage!” Darinir shouts, forgetting himself.
Commander Oceansong stands and leans forward, placing her hands firmly on her desk, “Well if we’re going to keep stating the obvious then why don’t you tell me how many stories you’ve heard being told about her and her exploits around camp? Do you seriously expect me to ignore how much her command has done to raise morale? Or are you Highborne really too coldhearted to understand that?”
“You’re joking!” Darinir snaps back, “You would seriously stand by and watch while she creates an incident between us and the Horde? If you believe that her disappearance and that of all of those Forsaken alchemists is just a coincidence, then you are a greater fool than I thought!”
“Enough!” Oceanson’s saber raises her head from where she was resting in front of her desk and bares her fangs at Darinir, “Hold your insolent tongue before I cut it out! You have stated your case. However, I disagree with your assessment. Despite your insistence on believing otherwise, Velrin may be bold, but she knows to be discreet where it counts. There will be no incident, and tales of her vengeance will sate the rank and file and keep their minds and blades focused on the Scourge where they belong!”
Silence hangs for a few moments. Commander Oceansong’s saber lowers her head again. Oceansong sits down and returns to her work.
Darinir finally scoffs and averts his head, “I had expected better from the Alliance’s leadership…”
Fyrdriel’s gaze flicks up yet again, “You’re still here? If there’s something you wish to change, then leave and do it yourself. Though I fear you will find Velrin to be less than accommodating to obstacles in her path.”
“Is that some kind of threat?” Darinir replies coldly, meeting the Sentinel’s eyes without flinching.
Oceansong bares her own fangs, “Try me and see.”
“You know, this is exactly the kind of immaturity I feared I would see from Alliance command.” Darinir waxes accusingly, “Who knows the Scourge better than the Quel’dorei? We who have lost everything to these monsters. Leadership should have been placed in the hands of those who are more experienced.”
Oceansong slams a fist on her desk and stands again, “Do not speak to me like I am just another human whelp! I had seen more summers than you before this world was sundered! If you’re so concerned about propriety then perhaps I’ll remind you of how your ancestors set the Legion loose into Azeroth! Am I to trust your command?” She picks up her moonglaive from the floor, “Now get out of my sight!”
Darinir shakes his head and turns around, “So impulsive… You Kaldorei really are nothing more than beasts. I’ll speak with you again when you’ve managed to learn how to walk on two feet.”
Oceansong keeps a tight grip on her weapon until Darinir leaves the room. Once he is gone, her hand goes limp and she drops it back onto the floor. She sinks down into her chair and looks over the paper on her desk again. A casualty report. She keeps reading one name over and over again…
“Shalan…” she says weakly. She felt it as soon at it happened, even before news came. But seeing it here, knowing it wasn’t just her imagination…
Her saber stuck her head into her lap and Fyrdriel hugged it tight, no longer able to hold in her tears.