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| Details |
| Author: | Alli |
| Summary: | Atley, Kyris, Ralaea, Mercy, Imrolane, and Florande answer the summons to Thassarian, who tells them the battle with the Forsaken for Andorhal is already underway. Everyone does their best. ~5500 words. |
| Rating: | T for Teen |
Continuing from Happy to Be of Service.
Atley grunts at Durnt. "Well 'nuff, then. Let's make for Andorhal and stake our claim."
[Florande]: Thassarian will be waiting for us.
Kyris nods.
[Atley]: Let's fly.
They fly to where Thassarian waits. Other companions are there as well, including Ralaea, Imrolane, and another death knight, who is in conversation with Thassarian.
Atley looks to Ralaea and nods.
Ralaea nods in greeting.
[Mercy]: I appreciate your understanding. Though I am no longer your sister in— *The death knight abruptly stops speaking as the living approach, adopting a demure silence.*
Atley eyes Mercy up and down.
Atley salutes Thassarian with respect.
[Atley]: Thassarian.
Ralaea eyes the second death knight and scowls.
Mercy eyes the approaching tabards; despite the hood shadowing her face, it's clear where her gaze is pointed. She looks grim.
Kyris stands silently, eyes narrowed. He does not salute Thassarian.
Florande whispers, "They are multiplying."
[Atley]: Here to serve the Alliance.
Atley says, looking between the death knights.
Thassarian looks over the arriving mercenaries, and also Imrolane. "Good, you're all here."
Imrolane is here to eat faces and kickass…and she's all out of faces.
Atley grunts.
Florande steps over next to Imrolane.
Mercy may as well be a statue, for all she moves. Not breathing helps, with the stillness.
Thassarian says: I wish I had more pleasant news to give you. *He really doesn't look like he wishes that, nor does he sound like it* But it looks like the battle will begin again whether I will or not.
[Florande]: What… happened?
Atley grunts. "Good, then. Andorhal belongs to the Alliance."
Thassarian says: Yes, eventually. But I had a plan.
Thassarian says: I heard that you helped those farmers arm themselves. Well, now they've initiated the attack without my order! They've forced my hand.
Thassarian says: The battle has resumed. This time, we fight the Forsaken…and we fight Koltira, my old brother of the Ebon Blade.
[Florande]: Oh. So it is not Scourge this time.
Thassarian says: Yes, we bring the fight to the Forsaken.
[Florande]: What do we do?
hassarian says: To the east, deep within Forsaken-held Andorhal, you will find their commanders. They do not fight, but call out orders from horseback.
Thassarian says: Hunt down and slay these commanders. The Forsaken won't stand a chance.
Imrolane grins, baring her fangs. "Hunt. Good."
Thassarian says: Mercy has arrived here from the east. She will assist.
Atley looks to Mercy. "Right then. Let's get to work."
Florande peers suspiciously at 'Mercy', but nods.
Kyris nods curtly.
Mercy's almost-bare feet pad noiselessly over the paved road.
[Florande]: Sir Atley, you still do not trust his plan?
Imrolane approves of Mercy's near lack of shoes.
Atley nods approvingly at the steam tank.
[Florande]: Do you think it's good that the farmers attacked?
[Atley]: Not without coordinating with Thassarian.
[Atley]: Though I commend their initiative.
Atley spits on the ground.
Mercy yanks a war-captain toward her with a strange rope of dark energy.
Kyris cuts down the undead horse.
[Atley]: That'll do for their lieutenants.
Atley looks around with a glare. "Let's get back."
[Florande]: I see a few more.
[Atley]: We'll slaughter them on the way.
Florande looks at Mercy warily. "Are you with the army, too?"
[Mercy]: I am following the orders of the Argent Crusade. Specifically, Sir Sevastyn Black.
Atley blinks and looks over at Mercy.
[Ralaea]: A likely story.
[Atley]: You're fighting for the Alliance, today.
[Mercy]: Yes.
Kyris cuts down Forsaken without comment.
[Florande]: Are you sad that you're fighting the other death knight?
[Atley]: He's taken you on as a … ward?
[Atley]: I know Sir Black.
[Mercy]: He has taken responsibility for me. And no, I am not sad.
Atley grunts.
We arrive back at Thassarian.
[Atley]: We've put their lieutenants to the sword.
Florande tilts her head at Mercy, then shrugs and turns back to Thassarian.
[Imrolane]: And teeth.
Thassarian says: Well done. With them out of the way, I have no more excuses. Soon, I must battle Koltira, for honor and for Andorhal.
Atley frowns dubiously at 'for honor.'
Thassarian says: We are winning this battle, Florande. As long as those farmers keep chipping away at the Forsaken's flanks, we will overtake them.
[Atley]: They're a hard folk.
Thassarian says: That they are. Stronger than I would have assumed. For now, Lang has your next task.
Atley eyes Lang Loosegrip up and down.
Kyris grunts.
Lang Loosegrip says: Hello! Hope you've been making good use of the leftover grenades. *He winks at Ralaea*
Ralaea nods, still scowling.
Kyris nods at the mention of grenades.
Lang Loosegrip says: I'm no military expert, but this battle looks to be in our favor.
Atley grunts.
Lang Loosegrip says: Our defenders are equally matched with their deathguards, but the farmers' militia has taken them by surprise from the rear. For the Alliance!
[Florande]: That was a good idea! Training them up.
[Atley]: Bloody right.
Lang Loosegrip says: Still, we should all do what we can to make sure that we win. Travel east into Andorhal and slay the Forsaken deathguards that are fighting with our men.
Lang Loosegrip says: The sooner they die, the quicker we can re-take Andorhal!
Kyris salutes Lang Loosegrip with respect.
Florande nods, that seems accurate.
[Atley]: Right.
Atley growls.
[Atley]: Let's get into the war, you lot.
Atley gets into the war with the others.
Florande glances at Imrolane. "Maybe don't eat faces? Because plague. Just tear faces."
Mercy studies Imrolane.
[Imrolane]: No faces. Make sick.
Atley cuts a Deathguard in half and stomps through its masked face.
Florande then dives into cat form herself, committing herself to rend the Forsaken with teeth and claws.
Kyris, after stepping in to kill a deathguard that seems to be getting the better of the Alliance soldier, reaches into a pouch and passes the soldier a healing potion. "Drink this."
Kyris waits to see that the soldier complies, then moves to catch up.
Mercy kills with swift, single strokes of her runeblade, often yanking her victims toward her with necromantic tendrils.
Florande rushes around by Imrolane's side, helping immobilize the Forsaken with her pounces.
Ralaea snipes things with her gun rather than using her blades.
Atley slices the legs off of another deathguard. As it crawls away, hissing, he rips a burning plank off of a ruin and holds it to the undead like a torch.
Imrolane squints suspiciously at Mercy.
Mercy is super sus.
Atley charges a Deathguard War-Captain and ducks, sweeping low to swipe at their mounts legs, sending them both toppling to the ground.
[Atley]: Back to Thassrian. Kill along the way.
Kyris nods.
They arrive at Lang Loosegrip.
[Florande]: Seems we are winning!
[Florande]: We have gone through the battlefield, fighting. Tide turns in our favor.
Lang Loosegrip says: You fight well, Cobalt Company. I wish I had your ability… and your bravery.
Atley grunts.
Thassarian turns to address the group. "We nearly have this battle won, Cobalt Company. I can taste victory. The Forsaken never stood a…"
Thassarian trails off, staring at something. "What the hell is that!?"
Suddenly, the sky is filled with shining winged figures.
Atley glances back with a wary growl, reaching for his sword.
One larger winged figure addresses the battle below.
Aradne yells: Kneel, Alliance! Kneel before the might of the Forsaken!
Thassarian says: Is that a.. a val'kyr?
[Kyris]: Val'kyr!
[Florande]: Oh no!!!
[Ralaea]: Here? Why?
[Florande]: Here? Why here?
Mercy remains impassive.
Atley gnashes his teeth. "…Sylvanas."
Thassarian says: Val'kyr? Koltira brought val'kyr to this fight? Has he gone mad?
Thassarian gives Dane a long look, and nods.
Thassarian says: You're right, this is not Koltira's work. This was Sylvanas.
[Imrolane]: What is Val'kyr?
[Ralaea]: Bad.
[Florande]: They were a thing in Northrend, in the far north.
[Atley]: Former agents of the Lich King, now in service of that witch.
Kyris points. "Those flying undead, there."
[Florande]: Vrykul made… more horrible.
Thassarian says: Exactly. The Val'kyr were one of the Scourge's primary weapons. Not only were they skilled in battle, but they could be used to convert corpses into Scourge minions.
[Florande]: Why are they with the Forsaken now?
[Ralaea]: She's planning to make more. More Forsaken.
Thassarian says: I would assume, yes. But this… this makes them ever more like the Scourge they sought to defeat…
Thassarian says: To think that Sylvanas is stooping to such levels for the sake of the Forsaken…
[Atley]: Same rotters, different banner. We've still got a fight here, Thassarian!
Mercy has no comment.
Kyris looks over the farmers that have gathered. He nods as he recognizes some of them.
Thassarian says: Yes, we still have a fight. We need to stop the val'kyr before they wipe us out and turn our army against us. Slay as many as you can find.
Thassarian says: And bring some of these minutemen with you. If they've survived this long, then they must have some battle skill.
Thassarian murmurs, "Koltira, what have you done…" as the minutemen assemble.
Atley looks to the Minutemen and raises his sword. "This land once belonged to the living, and so it shall again."
Kyris addresses Mercy for the first time: "Can you pull them out of the sky?"
[Mercy]: If they descend low enough, yes.
Kyris nods to her.
Mercy eyes one and nods.
Florande looks at Mercy and mutters something that sounds like, "Marked by Karkut."
[Ralaea]: Sir Atley. Remember, these fiends used to be like us. Kill them swiftly and with dignity, regardless of what they've become.
[Atley]: They're the living dead. I'll undo them in wot'ever way grants us victory here.
Atley snaps at Ralaea.
Thurman Grant turns to the group and the remaining minutemen in something like despair.
Thurman Grant says: Our militia has been nearly wiped out. Only I and these few farmers remain. First they took out the farmers of Felstone Field en masse with a plague cauldron, and now they’ve come for the rest of us.
Kyris narrows his eyes.
Atley glares.
Thassarian says: It's those winged creatures… those 'val'kyr'… they took the bodies of our men and…and turned them into walking, undead corpses! With every one of our men they took, they bolstered their own ranks.
Atley's glare deepens. "Our own militia raised against us."
[Florande]: That is how the Scourge worked. And the Forsaken now. *Florande looks, perhaps for the first time in the adventures in the Plaguelands, angry*
Thurman Grant says: It pains me to admit it, but you will have to fight them too, along with the deathguards and val'kyr. As they did in life, they hunt in packs, so take some of my minutemen with you.
Thurman Grant says: All I can say to you all is - try not to remember them. While they used to be allies, these men are Forsaken now.
[Atley]: Let's get to it.
[Ralaea]: I will at least honor their memory by granting them clean deaths.
[Atley]: That's for bloody certain.
Mercy dispassionately yanks a val'kyr down out of the sky.
Kyris stabs the val'kyr on cue. He nods to Mercy.
Mercy nods back.
Florande nods at Mercy. "Like Tuskarr say. You serve death. The right cycle of death, though you are out of it. That is not bad."
Mercy nods to Florande. "Thank you."
[Mercy]: I choose to believe I am fortunate to have the chance to continue serving what is right, even if I myself am no longer right.
Atley leaps upward to strike at a zooming lesser val'kyr.
Florande continues to fight the changed militiamen.
Florande nods at Mercy. "Karkut is not evil, because death is not evil. He guides spirits to their rest."
We head back to Thassarian.
[Atley]: We've pressed them back, Thassarian.
Thassarian says: Good. For every val'kyr you slay, you save dozens of our men…and prevent the Forsaken forces from growing.
Thassarian says: Still, they press on. We may not win this battle after all.
Mercy curiously examines a polearm she yoinked off of one of the val'kyr.
Florande looks alarmed. A lot of the minutemen look alarmed. He should probably not say that out loud.
Atley narrows his eyes and stubbornly sets his jaw.
Thurman Grant says: Yes, you fought valiantly, but we're getting nowhere. Every body that falls just fuels their forces. Every loss of ours is a gain of theirs.
Mercy seems entirely unmoved by their odds of success or lack thereof. What's the worst that can happen? She dies?
Thassarian says: We can't win as long as those val'kyr keep raising our soldiers.
Thassarian says: Thus, our last hope of victory lies in defeating the val'kyr. You've done well up until now… but you're only one strike team and there are literally dozens of them raining destruction on the battlefield.
Atley opens his mouth to retort, but he stops himself, and looks off to the val'kyr.
Thassarian says: One enormous val'kyr sits atop the tower to our south…you can see her from here. Perhaps if we eliminate her, the remaining val'kyr will scatter.
Thassarian says: Yes, this is our only hope. Bring some of Grant's men with you. You'll need their protection for this battle.
Ralaea opens her mouth to object, but closes it again.
[Florande]: We can kill her, yes.
Thassarian mutters, "How did I let this battle slip between my fingers?"
Atley shoots Thassarian a scathing glare, green eye widened in rage. He says nothing.
[Atley]: Altogether, you lot. Let's turn this around.
Kyris nods. "You, you, and you, with me," he says, selecting specific farmers.
Imrolane growls.
Florande lets Kyris pick the soldiers.
Atley grabs a bunch of his own and rushes the tower.
[Atley]: Bring it down.
Florande 's ears flatten back as she looks up at the val'kyr.
Mercy prepares her Death Grip, dark energy swirling around her hands.
Imrolane bares her teeth, snarling pure menace at the undead being.
Florande goes into cat form, ready to pounce.
The farmer army hoists their pitchforks.
Ralaea takes up a sniping position.
[Mercy]: On your mark.
Aradne looks down at the group without concern, and says "You have already lost."
Mercy lashes out at the massive val'kyr, snaring her and bringing her closer to the group.
[Atley]: Charge!
The val'kyr lashes out with her scythe, catching one of the farmers in the torso.
[Ralaea]: …Or don't charge.
Florande dives in, pleased that the death knight brought her down to clawing level.
Kyris aims for one of her wings. His sword sings out a Darnassian battle cry.
Imrolane lunges at the winged creature, sinking her claws in to latch onto its leg before sinking her saber-like fangs into its…flesh? Whatever it is, it tastes awful.
Atley wraps an arm around the wounded minuteman and lays his shield over the man.
[Atley]: Florande! I need a healer!
Ralaea provides cover fire.
The val'kyr cries out under the combined attack. Kyris's sword slashing through her wing, preventing her escape, and Imrolane's teeth sink in.
Florande hastily becomes an elf, backing away, and flings some kind of greenish power in Dane’s general direction.
Mercy stabs at the val'kyr with a val'kyr polearm, a strange smile on her face.
[Florande]: Poison?
Atley gestures to the wounded minuteman, holding him up.
Florande concentrates, and leaves flutter around the minuteman as his wounds heal.
One of the farmers gets a pitchfork through the val'kyr's leg.
Atley produces a hatchet and flings it at Aradne's helmeted visage.
The val'kyr is now one-winged, mauled and impaled by Mercy. The hatchet knocks her helmet askew.
Aradne says: It makes… no… difference…
Mercy 's smile widens as she watches the val'kyr attempt to fly with one wing.
Atley points at Aradne and barks. "Finish it!"
The val'kyr collapses to the top of the rampart under the combined assault.
Mercy seems in no hurry to finish things - she leaves that to the others.
Florande is distractedly trying to heal up any minutemen who might've taken injury. She is not a highly-skilled healer.
Kyris is definitely in a hurry to finish her off.
[Atley]: Take its head off!
Imrolane keeps her jaws locked, gripping the val'kyr by the waist. She gives a sharp jerk of her head, but the val'kyr is simply too heavy to properly shake.
Mercy watches Imrolane try.
Atley rushes Aradne and moves to take her head.
Florande steps back, trembling a little. "I hope… I hope the others will…?"
[Atley]: Back to Thassarian, you lot, doubletime!
The other val’kyr don’t seem to be scattering.
Thassarian says: I watched your victory from below. Well-fought, but ultimately, it was for naught.
[Florande]: What? But we won!
Atley stares swords at Thassarian.
Thassarian says: You won a fight. The Forsaken are winning the battle.
Thassarian sighs. "The val'kyr and the Forsaken press on; soon, they will overtake us. We have lost Andorhal."
[Kyris]: The one we killed didn't call a retreat. The val'kyr were not bound to her after all.
[Atley]: You'll have to order a bloody retreat to get us off of this battlefield, Thassarian.
Atley snarls.
Thassarian says: It was my hope, but it turned out to be a false hope. Like so many.
Thassarian says: I 'm calling a retreat. There's no reason to feed their army, to kill more of our men.
Mercy tilts her head slightly at the word 'hope'.
Atley snarls. "You lot! Evacuate the houses. Pull our forces back to Chillwind Camp. No one gets left behind!"
Thassarian says: Head south, to Chillwind Camp. Tell Commander Ashlam Valorfist everything that happened here.
[Florande]: That's your job.
Thassarian says: Mine? I'm going west, into Tirisfal. My battle's not over yet. I've got an appointment with that harpy that calls herself a Banshee Queen… and I'm finding out what she did to Koltira.
Florande snarls, and turns away.
[Ralaea]: Kill her while you're there. Save us some trouble.
[Atley]: You'll be outnumbered and destroyed. There's better uses in the Alliance for you, Thassarian.
Kyris passes a healing potion down to one of the minutemen resting on the grass.
Thassarian says: And here I would have thought you'd be pleased to see the end of me. But no, I plan to survive. But this… all of this… this was not Koltira. I swear on it.
Mercy gives Thassarian a Look. Possibly. It's hard to tell under the hood.
Florande begins rushing around the town, getting the townspeople ready to move.
Atley shakes his head. "You're not getting out of this failure that easily… But fine. We'll make for Chillwind."
[Atley]: We're stepping in five minutes, you lot!
Kyris helps an injured farmer onto a gryphon.
Imrolane growls at Thassarian.
Atley glares at Thassarian a second longer before he rushes into a nearby house to clear it out.
Mercy studies Atley.
Imrolane tends to some of the injured minutemen, readying them to move out.
Florande, in her newly assigned-by-Dane role of healer, also tries her best to help a few living minutemen with wounds that render them unable to move quickly.
Mercy follows the only instructions given to her directly, and heads to Chillwind Camp.
[Atley]: Leave all that can be spared behind. On your feet, you lot.
Atley moves on to Chillwind Camp once the evacuees are prepared.
They head down to Chillwind Camp with the evacuees.
Imrolane stands slightly hunched, her muscles tensed.
Florande's eyes are a little red, like maybe she's been crying a little.
Atley looks attentive, and furious.
[Atley]: Commander.
Atley salutes Commander Ashlam Valorfist with respect.
The Commander returns the salute.
[Atley]: Andorhal is lost. Sylvanas used a plague bomb on Felstone Fields, slaughtering and turning a number of the militia.
[Atley]: She then deployed her val'kyr and overwhelmed the defenses. Thassarian's sped west, into Tirisfal, looking for his Horde counterpart, Kotira.
Commander Ashlam Valorfist says: What, turning? They can do that now?
Mercy blinks at Valorfist.
[Atley]: These val'kyr she commands were recently servants of the Lich King. The Horde's seen fit to 'repurpose' them.
[Atley]: They can raise the dead into the undead at will, sir.
Commander Ashlam Valorfist says a few choice words that would be caught in the profanity filter.
Mercy waits it out.
Ralaea looks strangely relieved by all of this.
Commander Ashlam Valorfist says: So the Forsaken have the val'kyr, they're raising the farmers and… and Thassarian has abandoned us? Do I have that right?
[Mercy]: Yes.
Mercy studies Valorfist.
Atley grits his teeth. "Thassarian has relinquished his command… But he still fights for the Alliance. He seeks vengeance."
Commander Ashlam Valorfist says: At least he's not a turncoat. But that's poor consolation.
[Atley]: 'Tis, sir.
Atley 's face is slightly red.
Commander Ashlam Valorfist says: But that means… we've lost Andorhal.
[Mercy]: Yes.
Commander Ashlam Valorfist says: They'll be pressing toward Chillwind next, I suppose. We'll need to fortify.
Atley looks to Commander Ashlam, and then to the others, raising his voice. "Yes. But Sylvanas had only one chance to surprise us with those val'kyr, and she just used it. Now, we know wot' she has in her arsenal."
[Mercy]: And what will we do about it?
Kyris looks quietly furious. He keeps his mouth shut.
Mercy looks curiously at Atley.
[Atley]: We'll be prepared, next time. And there will be a next time. The battle's over. The war's just started.
Atley glares at Mercy.
The Commander nods sharply at Dane, fury in his eyes. Then he considers Mercy's question.
[Mercy]: How will we prepare?
Commander Ashlam Valorfist says: Indeed. This is not the end. And they have not taken all of the Plaguelands - only Andorhal.
Commander Ashlam Valorfist says: This was a major strategic blow to the Alliance's plans for Lordaeron, but we can regroup. I'll need to send men out to the farms in the east, to secure any that we can.
[Atley]: We've beaten the Lich King once. We'll beat the Banshee Queen just as well, as she's conveniently taken on his same stratagems.
Commander Ashlam Valorfist says: We'll need to send word to the Argents in the north. They have their settlement and their lumbermill, and I'm sure they'd rather have us as neighbors than the Forsaken.
[Imrolane]: Next time…no trust death knight.
Atley turns back to Commander Valorfist. "Aye, sir."
Commander Ashlam Valorfist says: As much as I would like to blame Thassarian, this was information we simply didn't have. I can't say if I wouldn't have run the campaign the same.
Imrolane snorts.
[Atley]: If we'd had struck when we originally cleared the city —
Atley cuts off, and eyes Mercy.
Mercy stands motionless and expressionless.
[Atley]: Wot' do you need from us, Commander.
Commander Ashlam Valorfist says: Or if the farmers hadn't taken matters into their own hands. We can think of so many what-ifs, but that will not help us with the what-is.
Commander Ashlam Valorfist says: Well, I will need to report the results of this battle to King Wrynn. I don't expect him to be happy.
Atley grunts.
[Mercy]: It is good that death knights exist, if only to have someone to blame when a war is lost.
Imrolane glares at Mercy.
Atley keeps his attention on Ashlam, for now, but a vein pulsates in his temple.
The Commander looks wearily at Mercy. "You have no blame from me. If mistakes were made, they will be addressed. But it's easy to judge command when you don't have it."
[Mercy]: Yes.
Atley grunts in agreement.
Kyris takes nice even breaths in through his nose and out through his mouth. He might be counting silently.
Commander Ashlam Valorfist says: If there's anything else I would ask of you… remain here, help fortify? Other than that, I will send word to the King, and await our next orders.
[Atley]: We'll do it.
Atley salutes Commander Ashlam Valorfist with respect.
[Ralaea]: I'm staying.
Atley marches away from the Commander to talk.
[Mercy]: I speak quite sincerely. The living feel distress when blame is placed upon them needlessly. Our kind, you may say what you will of, and do no more harm than has already been done to us.
[Mercy]: Sometimes it is important to have a safe place to vent one's rage.
[Ralaea]: It's cowardly and would stunt our growth if blame is placed where it is not deserved.
[Mercy]: Where do you believe the blame lies for this defeat?
Kyris follows Dane.
[Atley]: Your kind's sense of fraternity has cost us this battle.
Atley says to Mercy.
Mercy looks to the others. "Do you agree?"
[Ralaea]: And what would we have done if we'd known? Clearly we were unprepared either way.
Mercy nods to Ralaea.
[Atley]: When we had taken Andorhal from the Scourge, we only faced the Forsaken. Their deathguards. Sylvanas wasn't prepared for an all out assault with her val'kyr.
[Mercy]: How do you know?
[Atley]: If we had taken the city, we'd have had a defensible position from which to fight off the val'kyr.
[Florande]: Or maybe she would have swooped in, either way.
[Mercy]: Mm.
[Ralaea]: Our forces were already worn from the battle. That rest only helped us.
[Atley]: Then where's that sin'dorei death knight, Kotira?
[Florande]: We also didn't have the farmers then. They had not trained yet.
[Florande]: So our forces were smaller.
[Mercy]: He has chosen to serve the Horde, just as Thassarian has chosen to serve the Alliance.
[Mercy]: Neither of them serve the Ebon Blade any longer, and nor do I.
[Atley]: We could've taken it. We treated the Forsaken with honor, as if they were gentlemen, and now many of our people are rotters, and Andorhal is lost.
Florande crouches down.
[Florande]: The people we trained.
[Florande]: Why would they fight against us, even if they were undead?
Mercy studies each face in turn.
Atley eyes Florande, losing some of his rage. "I cannot say. P'raps she's enslaved them."
[Florande]: Why are they like this?
Kyris looks like he is fighting to keep a thin lid of calm over a boiling cauldron of fury. His face twitches.
[Mercy]: How would you treat undead who fought for you?
[Mercy]: Perhaps they felt in safer company among 'their kind.'
Florande looks at Mercy. "We were not mean to you."
[Mercy]: You have been kinder to me than most *she hedges.*
[Mercy]: For that I am grateful.
Ralaea shakes her head. "No, they looked the mindless sort. Lesser undead defer to the stronger."
Atley grunts at Rae.
[Mercy]: For the most part, the undead cannot be trusted. Undead should expect to be treated with revulsion or even hunted. It is an unfortunate reality of the condition.
[Atley]: The Forsaken used the same plague bombing here that was used at the Wrathgate. They use the same val'kyr that Arthas weaponized against us. Thassarian's fatal mistake was agreeing to a cease fire on the pretense of 'honor' with Kotira.
[Mercy]: Thassarian's behavior regarding Koltira does puzzle me.
[Imrolane]: Maybe no mistake. Maybe Thassarian plan all time.
[Florande]: They have no honor. *Florande says, a little brokenly.* Why can't they just heal the land with us?
[Ralaea]: Koltira, from my understanding, is reasonable. Our enemy is the Banshee.
[Atley]: Thassarian knew it. He had the look of defeat 'fore we buggered off.
Mercy shakes her head. "I know this was not malice on Thassarian's part. Only weakness."
[Atley]: Koltira's sworn himself into the service of that Banshee, which makes him and all of her other minions enemies to life itself.
Imrolane snarls, "Thassarian…traitor."
Atley eyes Mercy with some faint sense of surprise before he grunts.
[Mercy]: I have known him longest, of those present. There is no true malice in him beyond that which exists in all of our kind, the hunger.
[Mercy]: He is rooted in Alliance codes of honor and still follows them.
[Florande]: He had a sister, in the Borean Tundra. I remember.
[Atley]: He's no traitor. If the Horde's commander wasn't a deathknight, we'd have taken Andorhal.
[Mercy]: Or if it had been any other death knight.
[Mercy]: Thassarian and Koltira have a peculiar bond. They always have.
[Mercy]: I believe it is personal, in this case.
[Ralaea]: If it was orcs and not Forsaken we were dealing with, I would agree.
[Imrolane]: Still traitor. Reason no matter.
[Mercy]: You are not using the word 'traitor' correctly.
[Florande]: I think… I think he wanted to win.
[Kyris]: Florande, may I be dismissed?
[Mercy]: He showed incompetence and poor decision making. That is not the same as betrayal.
Atley looks around at them and seems to settle down. "It's a dark day, but progress is made slowly. The land is green, again."
[Florande]: Yes, Kyris, dismiss.
Atley looks to Kyris. "You're not joining the garrison here?"
Imrolane growls at Mercy. "No. I mean he betray. To save him friend."
Kyris stalks off immediately towards the Midsummer bonfire.
[Mercy]: In what way did he betray, exactly?
Atley eyes Kyris up and down.
[Imrolane]: He lose. On purpose.
[Mercy]: He did not.
[Ralaea]: Arguing this is pointless.
[Mercy]: The truth does not matter?
[Atley]: The truth will matter to the king. He'll want to know why Andorhal's lost.
[Imrolane]: You death knight. You words nothing.
Ralaea turns to leave. "Whatever the truth is, we won't know it."
[Mercy]: Very well then. *She goes silent.*
[Florande]: We will need to take it back. We will need to be stronger. And now we know the val'kyr, we can… plan?
Imrolane huffs. "I go. Look in sky."
[Atley]: Thassarian failed us through incompetence and bias today, Imrolane. Not through treason.
Atley grunts and nods.
Imrolane shakes her head at Dane. "I think you wrong."
[Atley]: Stay safe, then.
Imrolane leaps into the air, transforming into a crow and heading back toward Andorhal.
Mercy lets the others settle it amongst themselves.
[Florande]: I worked so hard here.
Atley looks to Florande. "It's not all in vain."
[Atley]: We're standing on grass, Florande. That's because of your work.
Florande sniffles a little, and looks up at Dane. "I hope so? I hope they don't ruin everything. We have to stop them."
Atley grunts. "Let's entertain the worst case scenario…"
[Atley]: Say they spoil the land again. Turn it into the filth they thrive in. Your work here's proven that it can be healed, again. That we can come back from anything.
[Atley]: It has invigorated me.
Mercy just stands quietly nearby as the two talk, back in Statue Mode.
Florande rubs at one of her eyes, and nods. "Anything can be better than it was."
Florande gets shakily to her feet.
[Atley]: Your campaign here's not failed. Just the battle for Andorhal.
Atley eyes Florande attentively.
[Florande]: No. Not just the battle. But maybe I should step back for a while. From here. Let the soldiers sort things soldier-like.
[Florande]: Or maybe I need to be more soldier-like.
Atley grunts.
Atley eyes Florande. "War is upon us."
Florande nods. "Whether we like it or not."
Atley grunts.
[Atley]: You've done well here. That is all.
[Florande]: I will… help fortify. And figure out what to do next. *Florande eyes Mercy* Keep… serving death… good.
Atley eyes Mercy up and down.
Mercy nods to Florande.
[Atley]: Staying to bolster the garrison, are you.
[Florande]: For a little while.
[Mercy]: I await further orders.
[Atley]: From Sir Black?
[Mercy]: Or from the Argent Crusade.
Florande lopes off in bear form. It's her comfort form.
[Atley]: If the Horde comes for this camp, you'll be useful in defending it. Will you?
Atley glares. "Will you raise your blades in defense of the Alliance, here."
[Mercy]: I will follow orders.
[Atley]: And your standing orders bid you stay here?
Atley growls impatiently. "You'll be useful here, but you'll do as you're bid, I warrant."
[Mercy]: I will.
[Mercy]: You understand, I am certain, why I am not free to follow my own judgment in these matters.
[Mercy]: I know just enough about what is right to know that I am no proper judge of it. And so I defer.
[Atley]: Then petition Sir Black to keep you here, for now, until he requests you to return to his side.
[Mercy]: I hope that you will not take the loss too much to heart.
Atley scoffs, a cruel smirk taking his rugged features. "You hope for that, do you," he growls derisively.
Mercy smiles slightly at him.
[Mercy]: It seems like the proper thing to say.
[Mercy]: It is no secret that suffering feeds my kind, but I would prefer that the enemies of what is good do the majority of the suffering.
[Atley]: As would I. You carry on well here.
Atley growls flatly.
Mercy nods.
Mercy remains at her post.
Atley walks over to speak to Kyris.
[Atley]: Hard day.
[Kyris]: Aye.
[Atley]: Looked as if you'd things to say.
Kyris rises to a stand. "None worth saying."
Atley grunts at that.
Atley looks out over the forest, and then to the sky. "Still fight left."
[Kyris]: Aye.
Atley nods once before he marches off.
Kyris nods.