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| Details |
| Author: | Alli |
| Summary: | Oranna, Nunuzac and Erixa head out to explore the Ulduar complex, in the news that some people have been going missing in the area. Elements are contrary, and other things are even more contrary. |
| Rating: | T for Teen |
It's another snowy day in Storm Peaks - in fact, there isn't really any other kind. Erixa huddles in her furlined armor and blue-and-white Cobalt tabard, seated beside a fire and shielded from the worst of the wind by the icy walls of Frosthold. She isn't simply idle, though. She has a bag in her lap, and she's checking through her remaining provisions, likely checking for her next foray out into the expansive titan constructions of the region. Every once in a while, she looks up, as if waiting for someone.
Nunuzac is soon trotting from across Frosthold toward Erixa, humming tenuously on-key, her movements fairly dextrous for being on the bare surface of an ice crevice in the mountain glacier. She is trying out a pair of hoof-boots of a sort modified with ice-cleats, and finally wobbles a bit when near taking it as an invitation to drop down over gathered knees padded with thick warm clothing and small panels of ceremonial mail. Nunuzac shivers mildly and draws a mammoth wool cloak in over her shoulders, fastening it in place with a red dragonscale clasp.
"I bought some whale oil and these little food bars! I think it is tundra berry and seed and fat and a little meat," she speaks in draenei with a light smile, cheeks blueish in the cold. "Anything you are missing that you like to take with you, Erixa?"
Erixa looks up with a smile at Nunuzac's approach. "That sounds delicious. And I have jerky and water, so that should be plenty. Anything else missing…" she sighs. "I know everything over in Icecrown is important right now, and what you were doing with the dragons, but… I wish there were more of us. We could cover more ground, maybe find a way in I've missed…"
Nunuzac pats Erixa's arms with a mittened hand in an effort to be reassuring. "It's always an adjustment, yes? All the time we spent on board, it was all together in one place, like a big village. You learn every name and corner, get to know every panel and crystal. Then you step onto a world with land the size of a hundred thousand Genedars or more, with people to fill it. So much. How to begin?"
She stretches her palms toward the fire with a light huff while chatting in her conversational draenei. "We do what we can and listen to the heart when you find the thing pulling on it. It means there is some part of you that knows you can do good there, I think. I felt this with the dragons, many many feel it in Icecrown. You have possibly discovered something here. Already the constructions of the Titans have surprised me in many ways, and I think they may hold more secrets about what is special about this world. That is something important, too, isn't it?"
There are many dwarves around them, some blue and some of the more EK variety pack of hues, but one in particular stands out. Not because she seems exceptional, of slightly below average dwarven female height with brown hair and brown eyes, but because she is the only other person there wearing a bright blue and white Cobalt Company tabard.
Oranna Stormbreaker has her attention currently on an enormous, fully grown snow leopard, muttering to the animal in an undertone of Common. She passes along the route near the fire by habit, perhaps. She seems very familiar with her surroundings.
The snow leopard struts on with classic feline arrogance.
"I think it is, yes. Anyway, it pulls on my heart. I do not like that we did not find Thorim, in the end," Erixa says to Nunuzac, and then her eyes drift to the passing dwarf with the familiar tabard. After a moment's mental recalibration, Erixa calls out in Common, "Hey! Cobalt Company?"
Oranna's head snaps up, honing in on Erixa's voice, and for a moment there's something very alert and intent in her expression, like someone who just heard a cry for help and was ready to run towards the danger.
At the realization of the situation, Oranna relaxes, smiles and waves. She draws closer to the draenei. "Oh, aye, tha's — I am. I mean I didna jus' steal th' tabard off a dead …" She waves her hands now differently in front of her, trying to erase those words in the air as she continues hastily, "I mean, no' tha' ye'd think tha', or tha' ye were sayin' tha', I know ye wouldna — well, I guess I don't know, I don't know…ye…so."
She clears her throat. "I'm Oranna, Oranna Stormbreaker, Cobalt Company." Whew.
"Ah!" Erixa smiles and looks to Nunuzac. "She was squad when I was. But not mine, the other squad." Looking back to Oranna she adds, "I'm Erixa, this is my friend Nunu. Both of us are Cobalt. We were just going to search Ulduar again. What are you doing?"
Nunuzac seems like she was just content to be sitting near Erixa and sorting through her additions to the supplies for a moment, settling into a calm repose - but brightens up immediately at Oranna's approach. "Oh! Oranna!" She is catching on to where the first names end, and switches back to Common. "I know. I know from help Bran's cousin, south from here. That is where we first see Titan makings inside the mountain." There were some extremely suspect dwarven mountain climbing constructs involved.
Oranna nods at Nunuzac. "I remember ye, from tha' and yer paperwork. I mean, no' tha' I was snoopin' — I was — I was part of the whole…admin section of Cobalt. Organized paychecks and requisitions an'…things." She brushes a hand up to her hair to try to smooth it down. "I'm still, ah, helpin' out here. Lot o' problems still, an' people sometimes go missin'. Scouts an' the like. I'm a tracker, so…I've been…trackin'."
Nunuzac spots Befound with a look of brief awe that spreads into a delighted, sparkle-eyed beam. That silvery fluff. Those icy eyes. The darling round face and great big snow-padding paws. She admires the cat fawningly while clutching a wrapped travel food bar - knowing better than to touch, but the temptation is probably there.
"Someone is missing now?" she asks quizzically, the conern not quite solidifying enough to reach through the dazzled interest in the graceful feline yet.
Erixa tilts her head and looks at Oranna curiously. "I have heard, sometimes people disappear, near Ulduar. There are cliffs and things, but… disappear and are not found after. Is someone you know?"
Befound tilts her head towards Nunu, lengthens out into a stretch, as if to say, Pet me, I am but a simple, overgrown house cat. It is not a trap.
Oranna shoves at Befound with a muttered, "Leave off if, lass," and she shakes her head to Erixa. "No, no, no' personally. I don't know all dwarves or anythin' — no' that ye think tha', jus'…no. There's jus' been more people who have been expected, an' haven't been back. We, I mean tha' is, the Frostborne, no' we as in Cobalt, an' I'm not Frostborne, jus'… a-anyway, we — they — had a few scouts go missin' ta those harpies awhile back. And those can pick up an' carry, so…there's…" She trails off ominously, and there's a surge of something in her expression, distraught and resigned.
"Ulduar's no' unfamiliar ta me, so. We — Befound and I, tha' is, tha' we —- were gonna take a look around a little more. Are ye thinkin' of headin' up tha' way?"
Nunuzac's smile goes a little blank after a bit as she nods along with Oranna's explanation, briefly flicking aside a glance to Erixa as if imploring for help with this precise mixture of accent and meandering train of thought. The question posed at the end seems clear, though, and she peers back with a vigorous nod.
"Vindicator Erixa did do squad work in the mountains here. See around the outside of Ulduar, and there was a Titan helper who was stolen?" She looks over curiously for confirmation. "I think there is something important to this world in there. All these reasons, Erixa still looks, and I come to learn more from her."
"Yes, yes!" Erixa nods eagerly. "We were helping this man called a Keeper, who was named Thorim! His brother killed his wife, so we killed his brother," Erixa explains hastily, and then frowns. "No, I am confusing the order. His brother Loken killed his wife and tricked him, and he started a war between the giants and the hyldnir. We stopped the war, and told Thorim and… his brother tricked him again. Now he's supposed to be trapped somewhere in Ulduar. But we killed his brother later, and he didn't tell us where."
"Oh, aye, it was in the newsletters," Oranna says, like that's Common Knowledge. "Ye've th' thought then ta look about. Ye think they might be related?" She frowns in thought, the line between her brows popping into sharp relief. "Ye think a cult maybe? There's a lot o' cults."
"Related?" Nunuzac blinks. "About the missing ones? I think the brother wanted Thorim, but why would he want to take others inside? Not all are Titan Keepers, yes? I hear they are very large."
Oranna shrugs, shaking her head. "I've naught any idea wha' these cults think they do, or why. A lot o' them make no sense at all. Could be they think they can revive Loken if they sacrifice enough people over a lightning bolt forge, fer no reason at all. I've seen, an' stopped, weirder. But, I've also seen that two things that seem unconnected turned out ta be, an' with either a dragon or a cult or a dragon cult. An' we've got a lot of both of those in Northrend. Dragons an' cults."
"If it's a cult, maybe a titan cult," Erixa says thoughtfully. "Or a cult of the one with the shadows and the tentacles. The thing with Loken." Erixa looks solemn for a moment. Then she smiles again. "But I have been trying to find a way to get further in, sneaky. Maybe if we three go together, we will see more than one? And you know where people disappeared? We could go there."
"I know where they say they were meant ta be, which is a place ta start at least. And my lass here, Befound, she's good at findin' the places tha' yer no' supposed ta go, which is sometimes…where we actually do wan' ta go." Oranna looks between the two draenei, and there's an awkward wince to her face. "An' I'm sorry ta need ta ask, but jus' in case — is there…somethin' I should look fer with ye out there if ye get too cold? Can ye get too cold? I dinna mean ta assume — I havena worked with a lot o' draney afore. But I do know tha' ye are supposed ta be tha' color." She pauses and adds quickly, "It's a nice color! It's no' a bad one, jus'…tha's…usually…th' bad color fer…others." Oranna is herself turning a shade of red, helpfully demonstrating a range of dwarven color possibilities.
"Oh, yes, there is an easy way to know," Erixa says with a laugh. "We will complain of cold, very loudly. But yes, blue is the right color for us to be."
Oranna laughs with her, looking obviously relieved. "Oh, good, aye. Sometimes it can sneak up on folk, th' cold. Ye dinna realize how bad it's gotten until yer turnin', well, blue. But, dwarves dinna really ha' tha' problem. It's no' exactly balmy out here, but it's jus' a wee bit nippy."
Nunuzac looks at Oranna perhaps a little overlong when Erixa raises the possibility of a Titan cult, then rubs at her normally more greyish cheeks a bit when the signs of draenei cold hardiness are discussed. They are indeed a tinge bluish now. "Oh yes, this is good health. Small shakes with no stopping it, that is too cold."
She glances back and forth between the two others. "We go out and see? I do hear this right? If there is a trail to find someone, and find out if it has relation to Titan thing? I go very fast, and will not slow this down."
"Let's do!" Erixa says with a smile, climbing to her hooves in eagerness as she shoves the last of her things in her bag. Then she turns to Oranna. "Are you ready to go out now? Or do you need provisions first for you and the fluffy cat?"
Befound licks at a paw, her sharp nails showing through.
"Shiverin', aye," Oranna says to Nunuzac. She nods at Erixa, and then hastily shakes her head. "Aye, I mean no', I mean — aye, we're ready ta go, no, we ha' our provisions already." She pats a bag that looks like it's been stuff to capacity. Hopefully she can find stuff in there. Seems fine.
The team heads out into the snowy landscape, confident that any signs of danger from cold will be clear in dwarves and in draenei. The titan construction is obvious all throughout the region, structures and recesses embedded in the mountain peaks in the usual rounded, bronzed style. They make their way to the main Ulduar complex, a massive construction in the far north with doorways leading into halls fit in size for the Keepers.
They pass by the halls where Blue Squad slew Loken, as well as those where White Squad found astonishing new information about the titans and their activities. They steer clear of the main entrance - surely heavily guarded, and begin to pick their way around the half-crumbled terrace, looking for a back way in. The stone beneath their feet is cold, dark stone, and the walls are inlaid with curled metal. There's no railing - presumably the Keepers had no need of it, but the walkway is well wide enough that there's no need for fear of heights. The three continue on their way, keeping an eye out for any possibly unguarded back entrances.
"If you are interested in dragons, Nunu can help," Erixa says to Oranna, starting up their conversation again. She glances over at Nunuzac. "Nunu is a friend of dragons, truly. But I do not think they are concerned with Ulduar. They have their own concerns right now."
Nunuzac's hooves are sure as she picks along the terrace, having spoken the truth about her ability to keep up with the explorers - and if not, well, that's what a quick jaunt as a ghost wolf is for. She peers up at the constructions with wonder. "Yes, I remember! This is like the Library place I meet Bran, before they open Icecrown. You did learn how to read from the Library, ever? What did it say?"
She nods quickly about the dragons. "I do not think they are a cult, unless that is what you call what the blue ones had. The dragons help us every step of the way so far, even when the fighting there was so bad." Maybe you are in the dragon cult, Nunuzac.
"Well tha's somethin' at least. I've not yet had any cult really help…anythin'. Ever. That's sort of a dead giveaway that they're a cult, ye know. The matchin' clothes, too, but the destroyin' things willy nilly, that's served me pretty well as a bar ta hold up." Oranna frowns as she examines the area around them, hands on her hips. Small stray hairs have managed to get free of her braid and dance wildly in the wind around her face.
"Bran an'…well, Brann, but th' other Brann, our Brann, no' Cobalt our, eh dwarven our I — Brann Bronzebeard, no' Brannagen, had a way of deconstructin' all this, but I've no' the knack. Mostly it said a lot o' things about the Titans an' the Keepers, an' what they did ta try to stabilize Azeroth after the Old Gods tainted it. Bran, our Cobalt Bran, has a lot o' the notes on it. I'm no' sure how much would be of any help ta those lost righ' now though. They didna mention anythin' especially useful in the vein of 'an' this is how we made the Earthern and also there are seven secret passages inta here all set with trap doors in mysterious locations' or anythin'."
"Is a shame, that would be useful," Erixa says, grimacing. "There is so much of a place here to explore, and all of it is beautiful, but most not what we look for. And yes, cults often wear matching clothes and do not help. I am not in a cult, even though I do follow Prophet Velen and O'ros. If they were not right, we would not follow them." Maybe you are in a naaru cult, Erixa.
She trots along a few more steps. "But… the Old Gods tainting it? They spoke of corruption in Ulduar, Loken and Thorim both. Is that the same thing, do you think? Maybe that is the power that is trapping Thorim… wherever he is."
Nunuzac beams, "Of course they are very right - it is they who say this world is strange in a good way, and the last we go to. These Titan makings all over, they show this to be true. There is something important here, I just know it." She grows more thoughtful and traces her mittened palm against the flowing shapes that line the wall in grand curves taller than horn-height.
"If corruption is inside, and making a Keeper they left behind act so odd, it is maybe that we need to bring mages and engineers, as when the ship part is poor in function." She swaps to draenei for a moment afer making a few faces while trying to work up how to phrase something, glancing to Erixa: "If only we had the Titans' coordinates to relay for cleaning and repair."
Erixa nods at Nunu and relays in Common, "If only we could call in the titans to clean out corruption and fix. But I think no one has seen a titan? Even long-lived people here, like the kaldorei? They do not seem like the type to make… hm. Repair visits, like a shop might for a thing they make."
Oranna makes a harsh scoffing sound, scowling hard, a tired sort of fury on her face as she shakes her head. "No, an' they'd not likely even bother comin' back, no matter how ye asked them, or even if ye could. They dinna care th' way people care. These are jus'…broken tools ta them. Somethin' ta be cast aside because it's no longer useful. And Azeroth…we're on our own. They did what they did fer their own reasons."
Nunuzac blinks her eyes wide at Oranna briefly before narrowing them again against the chill and bright, and giving a slow tilt of her head as if considering her perspective on the matter. "Hmm, maybe I did not think enough how strange it is to see many dwarves made of stone and iron in these places. They are made to do a job then left behind… it is sad.
Argus is behind us before I am born. If there are Titan buildings deep inside or stone draenei, it is unknown to me."
Erixa nods, tucking a strand of hair behind one arcing horn as she looks up and up and up at the structure.
"Argus is a thing long told about, but it is only as real as a story to me. I know I have a purpose, but that is not the same as being a tool. Our people, they do not cast aside a broken person, even if the person cannot touch the Light." Erixa shivers a little, but then the small shakes stop. Maybe it's not the cold. "Sometimes the broken cannot mend, but they can find another purpose. Maybe that is the way people care, making room for each to find a purpose."
"That's right. An' that's why we're out here, an' why no one's seen a Titan doin' anythin' useful, or helpful. They might do some good things, but that doesn't mean they are good, and idolizing them is gettin' us nothin' but people hurt an' killed chasing after them like they've got all the answers. They're no' gods, they're jus'…" Oranna frowns harder, and starts walking forward, slower, like she's looking harder at the snow, examining the drift of it on the stone. "I think a team's been through here recently. Or a lot of someone's been along, at least. Stones are too clear, and we had snow fall not long ago."
Nunuzac has a thoughtful look like she may have something further to add, until the indication of some kind of sign being spotten completely redirects her attention. She crouches down with a squeak of compressing snow and stretches a mitten toward the spot with a few words of draenei that sounds like a question. "Do my friends hear me? What have you seen?"
There is a brief rumble from the ground in reply, then a sharp burst as a chunk of coagulated pebbles and frost rockets past Nunuzac's cheek, leaving a shallow scrape. The ground beneath settles into stillness with a cracking, earthy groan.
The shaman looks rather shocked, and stung by more than the impact as she pads her mitten against the small blue abrasion.
"What was that?" Erixa asks, staring down at the stone. She draws her sword, like maybe that will help against flying pebbles. She looks back up at the other two. "My cousin said to me that the elements are more 'tricky' these days. Was it a trick?"
"They seem mad at me?" Nunuzac looks up from her moment of surprised silence, inner brows in a plaintive upward scrunch, as if someone she is fond of had done something unexpectedly hurtful. "I want only to talk. If it is a trick, it is a mean trick."
Erixa reaches over to pat Nunuzac on the shoulder in comfort. "Maybe it is just whatever corruption is in Ulduar, making elements angry."
There's a faint rumble under the stone again. Erixa looks to Oranna, as if maybe her tracker senses have a take on this mysterious mean trickiness.
Oranna's senses don't seem to have much of a take on this mean trickiness beyond surprise and confusion. She's unholstered her gun — a vastly over-engineered rifle with a customized scope and an engraving that reads SUNBEAM — although it's pointed at the ground for the moment. "Wha' was that? There's somethin' wrong. What did ye ask them?"
Befound hisses at the stone, a sound of a house cat amplified a hundred fold, her feline face contorted in fury.
"I just say hello and ask what they know! I thought they might help…" Nunuzac insists then flinches a bit at the second rumble, knees bent as if in preparation to dodge further elemental debris.
"Whate'er they know, they're hoppin' mad about it, or they're doin' the rock equivalent o' screaming in pain," Oranna says. "Are ye alright?"
The rumble subsides, and then picks up again. Erixa frowns. "Is that connected, or is something else? Feels… something moving under feet."
Suddenly, a large spinning machine bursts up out of the stone, only a few paces away. It looks something like a screwdriver, if a screwdriver were a means of conveyance.
Erixa raises her sword to block from flying debris.
Oranna takes several swift steps back and to the side, moving to behind Erixa and her shield, her gun coming up aim at the spinning machine. She's breathing in careful, evenly paced and slow breaths, her finger on the trigger.
Befound holds her position near Erixa and Nunuzac, growling.
Nunuzac guards her face with thick-clothed arms and darts back. She pats herself for something defensive, but the only weapons she carries are those in the service of focusing elemental magics. She winds up with a small woodcarved fire totem in one hand and unopened tin of beans in the other as she takes cover behind the Vindicator. "That is not earth and frost talking!"
Erixa shakes her head, moving to better block Nunu and Oranna. "No, that must be…"
A door bursts opens on the base of the machine (one might call it a mole machine) and iron dwarves pile out, one after another, axes already bared and raring to fight.
A shot is fired directly into the eye of the first iron dwarf out, followed closely by a second shot. Oranna's attention is narrowed down into her scope, firing with terrifying speed and accuracy — but limited to one target at a time.
Befound launches forward, claws out and raking into the hardened stone of the constructs.
Erixa moves in to fight, her sword slashing quickly through the first iron dwarf to reach the trio. But more keep coming, piling up from who knows where.
"How big is that thing?" Erixa asks in amazement and horror.
Nunuzac raises the small totem but the only response is a hissing sputter of miniscule lava beads that quickly fall to the snow, pitting it with blackened steaming grains. She grips plan B (which stands for beans) as a cudgel but is reasonably hesitant about entering the melee breaking out with seasoned fighters and a dwarf with a firearm. "Nothing is working!"
Oranna takes another steps back as the fighters close in on them. She's firing as quickly as she can. "We need ta get a choke point!" Oranna calls, but she falls silent once more as aseveral of the iron dwarves attention momentarily swivel to her.
One of the iron dwarves tosses a throwing axe in Oranna's direction as they push forward. Erixa nods and falls back. She tries to cover Befound's retreat as well, if the leopard will fall back.
"Is there a choke point?" Erixa calls, risking a quick glance over her shoulder at the open terrace. She adds to Nunuzac, "Maybe elements will answer soon. I hope elements will answer soon."
Nunuzac falls forward and hits the ground on all fours as a ghostly spirit wolf, darting swiftly with her luminous faded outline only a faded trace over the snow. She may be a potentially more vulnerable target, but at least she knows how to move it to ensure the others would not need to tarry to cover her, slipping ahead in the direction Erixa and Oranna are leaning toward.
Oranna gasps as the throwing axe breaks through, hitting her mail armor with a bruising thud, but not slicing through. Her shots falter for several seconds, and she calls out a word in dwarven.
Befound falls back at Oranna's signal, swiping at the dwarves starting to press in closer. Several axes have hit their mark on the snow leopard, leaving streaks of blood on the white fur.
Oranna can't look for a point and keep firing, and she lingers in indecision. Ultimately, shooting wins out, as she keeps falling back, trying to give herself room to shoot clearly. "I cannae be sure! Is there a door, or rocks, or somethin'?"
Erixa steps back, trying to watch out for her friends on four feet and two. And then one of the attacking dwarves aims a swing at Befound's neck. Without thinking, Erixa jumps directly in front, catching the strike on her heavy sword.
The leap, the force of the strike and the snowy stone is too much, though, and her hooves skid and slide. She scrambles sideways as she tries not to fall, the movement taking her around her opponent and towards the mole machine. She is surrounded.
Just when her balance seems to be recovered, one of the iron dwarves grabs her by a pauldron and dives back through the door in the drill-like machine. Erixa gives voice to a sharp cry of alarm before the door slams shut and the machine dives back into the stony ground.
Only two surviving iron dwarves remain stranded on the terrace, and they turn their sights on the leopard.
Oranna scrambles to get a clear shot, the crush of melee obscuring it until it's too late — there's nothing but a bullet lodged in the torn ground to mark an attempt.
Befound growls louder, a rumbling, teeth bared as she holds her ground against the iron dwarves.
Her hunter pivots, and there are precious seconds lost as she digs a hand into her bag for something she withdraws in a clenched fist. She loads her gun with a tight, pale look on her face and then fires explosive shot that burrows into an iron dwarf's neck and bursts outward, decapitating the constructed dwarf.
Nunuzac skids to a halt from bounding away from danger and turns quickly, sharp lupine ears perked high and swiveled toward the sound of Erixa's sound of alarm. She lets out an echoing bark and races back in the opposite direction, popping out of the half-phased form near the descending machine and winging the can in her hand at the door before it submerges. BAM. "Erixa!!" There is panicked fray in her voice like a ripping canvas, but a food tin is not enough to make a dent in the vanishing prison, and the whirling drill-point is nothing that would bear touching.
The final dwarf wheels back on the draenei that slipped past with axe raised, and at the sound of the metallic grunt drawing near, Nunuzac yelps and a crackling wreath of lightning pulses out from her in an instant, sending the foe sailing off the terrace in a heavy arc. One elemental friend at last has answered today, but possibly too late.
The terrace falls quiet, the iron dwarves all now fled or vanquished.
Nunuzac digs at the rubble closed over the path of the machine, first with mittens, then with wolf paws, which are unsuited to the task of displacing solid matter all that effectively. "Erixa! Why take!?" She protests further in draenei, finally looking up across at Oranna in humanoid form, mortified. Light dampness frosts her eyelieds as soon as it forms. "You can find where they go?"
Oranna's own expression is equal parts horrified and determined, as she clutches her gun. "I don't know — I…" She drops to the ground, setting her ear to the stone, and closes her eyes.
Nearby, Befound licks at her wounds and her blood soaked coat.
Oranna raises her head after a moment. "They've gone deep underground. I cannae hear them any more, but they went down, an' tha' way — " She says as she points.
Nunuzac swallows nervously while following the indication toward the massive Titanic structures of Ulduar jutting out of the high peak, a well-ordered fortress of impossible-looking columns, shining domes and brazen pediments.
"They take - that is more danger than kill. Erixa will kick them if she can move her hoof! Is this where the others go?" The shaman wraps her arms around her middle, hunching in slightly whether from cold or sinking unease. She eyes Befound with a conflicted look. "I cannot heal without the help of water spirit. We must get help."
Oranna nods as she clambers up to a stand, brushing snow off her pale face.
Befound makes a chuff sound as she halts her grooming and pads over to Oranna. Her coat is still darkened, but she seems agile enough to move around, shallow wounds only.
"Befound'll be alright. We need ta let Jo know, an' Elo. An' — an' everyone. We need ta get Erixa help, while we still can, while she's still…" Oranna reaches into her bag, sorting through it quickly, and she removes a sharp pole with a red flag on it that doesn't look like it should have fit in the bag out. She drives it down into the disturbed stone.
Her face is pale and there's a dual edged blend of anger and strength of will in the dwarf's eyes. "We'll come back in force. There's no — we canna jus' storm it the two of us, but we're Cobalt Company. There's never only really two of us."
Nunuzac nods her head rapidly when Oranna trails off for a moment. There is still time. There must be. She's still…
She covers her face with her palms briefly, the bluish flush having paled to a particularly ashen grey. She waits until Oranna has placed the marker-flag, then reaches out to her with both mittens in search of a short hand-squeeze of assurance after the nerve-wracking skirmish and sudden loss. Between that and not finding the magics with which she is ordinarily quite capable, the confidence with which she set out in the mountains seems shaken.
"Nesselos will come, and maybe my friend dragon, and others from the Company. We go."