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| Details |
| Author: | Alli |
| Summary: | Cressidha, Dane and Sil continue the work of winning over the Stone Lords in Deepholm, this time working against a different group of troggs. This last mission finally earns them an invitation to Therazane's throne room, where decisions are made… ~5700 words. |
| Rating: | T for Teen |
Arc: Deepholm
Atley marches into the Temple of Earth with a heavy yawn.
Sil stands up from where he was leaning against a pillar and waves at Sir Atley.
Cressidha approaches with conjured water to hand out. "Dane, Silvestre, good afternoon."
"Cressidha, thanks," Sil says with a warm smile. He glances to Dane. "What are we up to today?"
"We're to wint he favor of Gorsik the Surly. My own title for him, based on his reputation," Atley explains.
Cressidha covers her mouth to hide a smile. "Very well."
Sil chuckles. "So we left the orneriest to last. Maybe he'll at least have heard some good things."
Atley grunts. "Something of that sort. It will be us three to today," Atley explains gruffly, thumbs cinched in his belt. "So we move smartly."
Cressidha nods. "Understood." She moves smartly, removing her carpet from her bag.
Atley climbs aboard Thoras, who'd been patiently off to the side.
"Got it," Sil nods. "We'll be careful. Hope Cole's back next time."
They fly!
Atley circles Gorsik from above before he lands and dismounts. "Stay a bit behind me."
Gorsik the Tumultuous (or Surly) is a deep red with brighter red crystals.
Cressidha stays a bit behind Dane.
"Hail, Gorsik. We are Cobalt Company. We've been sent to serve." Atley explains, voice raised.
Sil stays a little behind Dane, to the left, and tries to look impressive.
Gorsik the Tumultuous rumbles unwelcomingly. "My brothers are strong…" The ground underneath them trembles as Gorsik remains still. "But my brothers rae passive."
Sil considers Kor the Immovable, and decides that's fair. He waits to see what Gorsik will say next.
Atley grunts, squinting up at Gorsik.
Cressidha keeps her footing, chin raised.
Gorsik continues, "CHange does not occur without movement, contention, and violence. Our enemies live this, whether they fully realize it or not. The passive nature of my brothers makes them weak and vulnerable to these new enemies." Gorsik thumbs his chest. It sounds like boulders colliding in mid air. "Not I. I have no fear of change. I will tear at the ground and move the mountains. I embrace change."
Sil raises an eyebrow, perhaps considering the embrace of change promising.
Cressidha smiles very faintly and gives Gorsik a nod.
Gorsik points down at them. "And you. You are DIamant's chosen. So small. So fragile. Do you realize that your actions shall be the basis by which your entire, "Earthen Ring" is judged? You truly think you can stand for so many?"
Atley sets his jaw and briefly looks left, then right. "We know it," Atley answers.
"We strive to represent our people the best we can, sir," Sil says with confidence. "We're not so fragile as we look."
"We have been ambassadors before," Cressidha adds.
Gorsik huffs. "You are fools. Confident fools. We shall see if you are capable fools as well. The rift to your world has poisoned our home. Corrupted it. Polluted it. This expanse festers and grows. It becomes difficult to even see the purity of rock beneath this filth. If you are here to lend your aid, then go about cleansing this overgrowth. Look for the brightly glowing mushrooms that are growing faster than the others. They are the worst of the offenders."
Sil nods, taking Gorsik's concerns seriously.
Gorsik gestures around. "The fungal behemoths that surround us have succumbed to a weakness very similar to that that affects your kind. Their skin has grown accursedly soft. They no longer belong to the stone. Kill them. We do not wish to see this infection spread."
Cressidha nods, her expression neutral. "You shall see results soon."
Sil nods again. "That's got no place down here - that we agree on."
Atley grunts loud enough to be heard by the stone giant. "Let's move."
Cressidha moves.
They head to an area full of pools of water, mushrooms, and fungal creatures.
Atley lands and engages an aptly named Fungal Behemoth. "If I understood him correctly, he likened this intrusion to the Curse of Flesh. It may be putting all of Deepholm at risk of becoming … this." He gestures around.
"I… can understand why that frightens them," Cressidha says.
"I'm pretty happy we've got the Curse of Flesh in Azeroth," Sil observes. "I like flesh. But, yeah, it doesn't seem like it'd do good things to an elemental plane of earth."
Atley examines the water to make sure it's not liquid mercury before he fords the river.
Sil follows through the water.
"Aye. Not our way," Atley agrees.
"And he sort of… seemed more reasonable than I expected?" Sil says uncertainly.
Atley grunts in agreement. "I like his attitude."
"Maybe he's a touch less set in his ways," Sil suggests.
Atley doubletakes a stone trogg riding a basilisk. It attacks.
They have no trouble defeating it.
"Someone open to change seems more inclined to give us a fair chance," Cressidha points out.
"He's also of a mind of aggressive effort," Atley commends.
Sil nods at both of them. "Yeah, sort of what I was thinking too, while he was talking about violence and change."
"None of us can ignore the fight. Not these days." Atley nods to the south. "Let's return."
Sil whistles for Nimbus and follows Sir Atley.
They return.
"We chopped down all the corruptive mushrooms." Atley explains stiffly, though his expression shifts as he hears his own words.
Gorsik rumbles. "You have appealed to Diamant. He is patient. Trusting. Perhaps too much so. You have much to prove if you wish my favor, little humans…" He pauses. "Still. This is a start."
Sil smiles.
"We put a number of the Fungal Behemoths to the sword." Atley says. "All that we came across."
Cressidha nods. She remains behind Dane, as before.
So does Sil.
Gorsik rumbles again and points at them. "You carry with you a certain degree of potency. I can find some respect for such strength, especially in your kind. My concerns, however, are not yet abated. Not for the source of the overgrowth… And not for you."
"What else would you have us do?" Sil asks politely.
Gorsik 'clears his throat.' It sounds like a small avalanche. "Fleshlings. Some of your kind skitter among the rocks. Too cowardly to approach, two swift to be crushed." Gorsik grumbles. "If you wish my favor, deal with them. I tire of these games."
Sil's brow furrows. 'Fleshlings' is a big category.
Atley nods with a grunt and turns to the rocks.
They head in the indicated direction, ready to talk with and/or defeat some fleshlings, depending on the fleshlings.
Cressidha soars above the mushrooms on her carpet, scanning for fleshlings. She floats down towards the members of the Earthen Ring.
Atley spots Windspeaker Lorvarius and lands nearby. "You're no Twilight Cultist."
Lorvarius looks up from examining a fallen fungal behemoth. "We've come to try to help, but it seems their favor for you does not yet extend to us."
Atley grunts.
"Hm," Sil says. "We've been pretty open about being on the side of the Earthen Ring, so I hope it will eventually."
"Did you introduce yourselves?" Cressidha asks.
Lorvarius says, "Still. It is good to see you again, brothers, sister. I see that your efforts go well. Stone Lords appear to trust you with each day. As I say, we come to help. We might be of aid in tracking down the source of this sudden growth. I highly suspect your giant friend's aggressions are focused in the wrong direction." He looks to Cressidha and shakes his head. "Our fellows advised us not to speak to this one. Or the one called Kor."
"Then that would be why he sent us to 'deal with you'," Cressidha says, nodding. "He does not know who you are."
"For now, it may be best that you alone speak with mighty Stone Lords." Lorvarius says.
"Maybe if you're working on something that might impress him, we could relay the results," Sil nods. "Then he'll understand what you're about, even if he doesn't know you."
Atley grunts and nods to the fungal behemoth. "You say you're looking into this growth?"
Lorvarius says. "Yes. I'm no druid, but these mushrooms do not look naturally occurring. I know the Stone Lord is eager to blame this on the exposure to Azeroth, but I suspect domestic cause."
"Something here in the plane?" Sil asks in surprise.
"Oh?" Cressidha raises a brow.
Lorvarius points. "I saw red clouds of mist to northeast, near the water's edge. They seemed to be spurring new growth in their wake. Take one of my wind-devils with you and get me a sample from those clouds. Stay close to the ground to see them."
A swirling miniature tornado appears and seems ready for orders.
Sil eyes the cyclone warily, but nods.
"Cress." Atley says.
"Very well," Cressidha says. "Come along, then," she tells the wind devil.
Cressidha stays on ground level, as recommended.
"Red mist… puts me to mind of stuff I've read about the Broken," Sil says, as they move along the edge of the water."
"How's that?" Atley asks.
There is a patch of brilliant red mist across the underground river from them. It floats, drifting along the bank.
"How they lost their connection with the Light?" Sil says.
Atley grunts.
Cressidha gently shoos the wind devil into the mist cloud, where it becomes a spiral of red mist.
As they draw near to roaming red mist, the Wind-devil obedient swirls to the center of it and collects it.
"They said it was a red mist the orcs released in Shattrath, I think," Sil says.
"Let's mount up. We'll fly low," Atley says.
Cressidha nods. She flies low.
"Well, anyway, I’m glad Colson isn’t getting exposed to this, just in case," Sil shrugs. "In case this is something similar.”
Cressidha frowns faintly.
Atley grunts and examines the red mist upon Sil's words.
When they return, Cressidha gestures to the wind devil.
"We drew close to the red mist, and had your mate here collect it," Atley growls.
Lorvarius winces. "You let mist touch your skin? I hope there weren't any adverse side effects."
"We did not," Cressidha says.
"Yes, we were careful," Sil nods.
Atley cranes his head in a nod of concession. "We did get near it, but we've not noticed any trouble."
Lorvarius says studies the Wind-devil. "Most definitely magic origin. Not druidic. I suspect one among stone troggs, to the north."
Lorvarius says, "Please. Go to Gorsik. Point him in trogg direction. Hopefully, this will earn favor from him."
"Very well," Cressidha agrees.
Atley grunts and nods to his squad.
Sil nods.
"Gorsik," Atley greets. "We sought out the fleshlings and met them. They're Earthen Ring. They say the trouble's likely caused by some stone trogg to the north."
Gorsik grinds a finger against his jaw in thought. "The stone troggs? And I am to trust you at your word?"
Atley raises his chin. "Yes."
Cressidha addresses Gorsik: "They pointed to a red mist as evidence. They believe the troggs may be conjuring it. We have seen the stone troggs allied with these fungal giants before, as well."
Gorsik grunts. "I have no love for the Verlok anyway. Suspicion is more than enough reason to lay waste to them. We shall see if your word is true."
"It's not just our word," Sil adds. "It's the evidence. But yeah, we'll see."
Gorsik says. "I will send my brothers to assault the Verlok village from below. The Verlok will gather on their rocky ledges as they always do to our avoid our ire. WHen they do, we shall make the earth itself shake them until they fall at our feet below. This is where you prove your use. When they fall to the ground amongst my brothers, make sure that they do not rise again."
"Yes, sir," Sil says.
Gorsik points down at them. "If this disgusting growth is truly brought on by the Verlok, then their supplies will be in their village to the north. Bring them to me so that I can verify your claims."
"Of course," Cressidha says.
"We fly north," Atley says before spurring on Thoras.
We fly to the Verlok village.
"Been fighting the stone troggs for weeks. Only just now learned they've a name." Atley squints. "Verlok. Let's get to work."
Sil follows on Nimbus.
"Perhaps that is the name for this particular group of them," Cressidha points out.
Sil nods. "The Needlerock Slag ones might be called something else."
The Verlok village is filled with smaller mushrooms and fungal growths.
Atley grunts. "Mushroom shields," Atley observes in disdainful monotone.
"I bet they work together, though," Sil observes, looking at the mushrooms. "They seem to have the same kinds of strategies."
Cressidha calls, "Here," and gestures them over to a bag of red… something.
Atley frowns and hooks a finger into the hem, pulling it aside to peer inside. "Take it with us."
He tightens the bag shut and swipes it up.
"Is that…" Sil lets out a sigh of relief. "If that mist is just some kind of fertilizer, then Colson won't have to worry."
Cressidha nods. "Very well."
"Why would the red mist trouble Colson?" Atley inquires.
"If it were somehow the same thing as Silvestre was referring to earlier," Cressidha says.
"What I was talking about before, the red mist the orcs used that made the draenei sick and severed them from the Light," Sil nods.
Atley grunts, and then nods slowly with a growl of understanding and agreement. "A warranted concern," he says.
"Looks like this is totally different, though," Sil says with a smile.
Atley grunts.
They are assaulted by a dozen Verlok Grubthumpers.
Cressidha does her best to keep the crowd restrained in ice and blizzards.
It is a surprisingly difficult fight, but the team prevails.
Atley takes a sip from water provided by Cressidha.
Cressidha very carefully gathers up another bag, tying it off and putting it inside a larger sample jar.
"These 'Verlok' are more organized than the other lot we faced," Atley says. Atley tightens another bag shut and hands it off to Cress.
A fungal moth flaps towards Thunderfury.
Atley doubletakes the moth and pushes away at it. "Off with you."
"Maybe," Sil says, "But also we only saw the others in the middle of a battle. Battles are… not often super organized."
Atley grunts.
Over a ridge, smaller stone giants with the similar red crystal coloration are bullying the Verlok as promised.
Atley grunts. "Gorsik's mates down there. Let's make contact 'fore we return."
"Cressidha." Atley nods to her.
Sil nods.
Cressidha tosses some feathers up in the air.
Sil slowfals down to the red giants.
Atley approaches one of the rock giants. "Hail."
Ruberick turns to peer at them and nods with recognition. "Their leader hides within his hole ahead. He is the one that has brought the plague upon the crimson expanse. He must be killed. One of your Earthen Rings companions is already inside. You should speak with her."
As the giants shake a pillar, stone troggs fall off of it. The squad finishes them off as ordered.
Cressidha turns to look at the cave in question. "Ah. Yes. Very well."
"We should see this through," Sil agrees.
Atley growls. "Right."
Atley looks from Ruberick to the cave indicated and grunts, jogging inside.
"Oi — hold fast." They're splashed by an exploding, mutated mushroom. Atley holds up his shield. "These aren't like the kind on the surface… Have a care." Atley says.
Cressidha looks at the residue on her ice barrier and makes a face.
Sil looks at the residue on his leather and makes a face.
Atley nods at Norsala with familiarity, but seeing as how she's a troll, he's not warm in his greeting. "'Lo again."
"Do you have news on the trogg leader?" Sil asks.
"Their leader should be here…?" Cressidha scans the cave.
Norsala turns to peer at them. "Dis stone trogg is behind da growt' in de expanse." She raises her gaze and looks at the ceiling of the cavern. "I sense a strange power in dis place… be careful mon."
"We're here to fight with you," Atley explains. "On your mark."
Fungalmancer Glop is doing his own thing down there. He's alone - or so it seems.
He will not be doing his own thing for long.
"You've caused enough damage, Glop. The earth welcomes you no longer," Earthmender Norsala yells.
"No no no! Leave Glop alone! My mushrooms! Mine!" Glop runs up and around the slope, sprouting exploding mushrooms in his wake.
"After him! Quickly!" Earthmender Norsala gives chase.
Atley yells. "Stay on him!"
Sil draws his daggers, slick with poison.
Another mushroom explodes nearby. Atley raises his shield in time to protect himself and the others.
Sil sprints after the trogg, dodging behind Dane's shield to avoid the mushroom spray.
Fungalmancer Glop yells, "Mushrooms grow big and strong. Too big to stomp on! So strong they stomp back!"
Cressidha weaves between mushrooms, blinking whenever the gap looks too tight. She maintains her ice barrier and flings ice lances at the trogg whenever in range.
Fungalmancer Glop yells, "Why must you come here? My cave. My cave! Me never hurt your cave!"
"Your stomping mushrooms hurt our cave!" Sil says, diving in to slice at the trogg whenever he gets the chance.
Atley charges in to start attacking Glop.
Cressidha doesn't hesitate, her expression a mask as she hurls frost and frostfire bolts at the trogg.
Fungalmancer Glop yells, "Stay back! Back!" He keeps running until he runs out of places to run - a pillar of rock with a sheer drop on all sides.
Sil does not stay back. He moves in for the kill, daggers gleaming.
Cressidha summons a blizzard to cut off fungal reinforcements.
Atley sprints at Fungalmancer, Thunderfury crackling in a mirror of his internal rage and drive.
"Mean… rock fiends…" Fungalmaster Glop whines as he dies.
Sil carefully wipes off his blades. "Think that'll put an end to the red mist stuff?"
"Well done, you lot. We ought to have Gorsik's attention now." Atley sheathes Thunderfury. "Let's return."
Sil nods, putting his own blades away in their sheaths.
"I believe so." Cressidha pulls out some feathers.
Cressidha nods to the Earthmender on their way out.
Atley grunts at her.
"Are the two of you well?" Cressidha asks her team. "You didn't breathe too many of the spores, did you?"
Atley intentionally clears his throat and shakes his head before he looks to Sil.
Sil shakes his head. "There were a lot of spores, but I kept out of most of them… And I'm definitely gonna clean my armor after this."
Atley returns to Ruberick and raises his head all the way up, up, up. "Their leader's been slain."
Ruberick booms. "Well done, humans. Gorsik shall hear of your deed. Therazane shall hear of your deed. You are quite vicious for ones so small… and so soft…"
"Thank you," Cressidha says politely. Yes, she is vicious, thank you for noticing.
"Yeah, thanks," Sil says with a smile. That's him, small, soft and vicious.
Atley grunts. "Back to Gorsik, you lot."
The team goes back to Gorsik.
Atley returns. "We carved up the stone troggs. Your people have the day, Gorsik."
Gorsik rumbles. "Well done, fleshlings. Your presence complemented by brothers well." Gorsik adds, "But still, I await your proof, humans…"
Cressidha begins taking bags of fertilizer out of her containers. "Do not touch this," she says warningly. "This is the substance the stone troggs were using."
"We wouldn't want it to contaminate anything more than it already has," Sil adds.
Gorsik leans down and demonstrates immaculate control by gently pinching and lifting a sample bag. "So your words prove true. You have my gratitude, humans."
Cressidha bows her head politely. "And we have defeated their leader. One of your brothers will confirm this."
Gorsik straightens up. "It is time. The Stonemother herself will speak with you. You can find her in northern Deepholm, above the Scoured Reach."
Sil's eyes widen, remembering the last time the Earthmother spoke with us. "She… wants to speak to us?"
"Very well," Cressidha says, bowing her head.
Atley knits his brow before he sets his jaw and nods, briefly peering at Sil.
"We'll land nearby and take a moment to clean up." Atley says lowly to Sil and Cress.
Cressidha nods.
They fly for the Throne of Therazane.
Atley pauses and hovers on Thoras as he takes in a stunning display of a geological lightshow. "We'll land here."
Cressidha levitates a compact mirror in the air and begins fully redoing her combat bun.
"Cress, supply us with water and then dry us off, please," Atley bids, taking out a rag and not his knight's token for Ladies.
Cressidha passes out additional water.
Sil pulls out a handkerchief with SMS embroidered on the corner, and does his best to clean off spores, with the aid of Cress's water.
Atley pours some out over his head and scrubs his face with the rag before tending to his armor, eventually wringing out his tabard as well.
Cressidha, who is not wearing armor, helps the other two get spots they've missed.
"How do I look?" Sil asks Cressidha. "Think I'm suitable for a queen?"
Atley glances between the two with gruff, veiled amusement, raking a hand through his hair.
Cressidha straightens out Silvestre's tabard. "For this queen, yes," she says, nodding in approval.
Sil smiles, and straightens proudly.
Atley inspects each of them for a long moment before he nods. "Aye. Look sharp. Now." He points off to his left.
Cressidha looks sharp.
So does Sil.
"This is the culmination of our work here these past weeks. We are not only representing Cobalt Company, or the Alliance, but all mortals. We know the nature of Therazane, so we tread lightly," Atley growls.
"Yeah, I'll step lightly," says Sil Silentstep.
"Understood," says Cressidha, facing the cavern.
Atley gives his tabard a tug of adjustment as he marches off.
Almost immediately, Cressidha conjures her ice barrier to help dodge the small floating rocks in the air. You're not ruining her look now, little rocks.
Atley warily sets his jaw as he takes in Therazane's Throne. "We may be the first mortals to ever look upon this place." Atley irritably swats a rock the size of an apple out of his face.
Sil shifts back and forth, dodging the little stones in the air as he moves.
Inside the cavern are the other Stone Lords, arranged around Therazane like an honor guard.
Cressidha flicks a wary glance towards Boden the Imposing, who once punted Dane across a battlefield.
Atley stands still as Therazane rises and floats between her people.
As they enter the cavern, Therazane addresses her people. "You stand here trying to convince me that these beings of flesh should be trusted. They are the literal incarnation of corruption. Their very skin screams it."
Sil checks his skin self-consciously. Did he miss a spot?
"They seek only power, as the Twilight do. Yet you are confident that they will not turn on us. Did I raise you to be fools?" Therazane asks her court.
Gorsik the Tumultuous speaks up first: "I have no love for the intruders, Stonemother, but these fleshlings went well out of their way to cleanse the filth from the Crimson Expanse. They are not the Twilight. I see no reason to oppose their goals."
Sil begins to look a little hopeful, after Gorsik's words.
"They slaughtered stone troggs, Gorsik? This is supposed to sway me? It is not much of a feat." Therazane sounds dismissive.
Atley's eyes shift around depending on which stone lord speaks without moving his head.
Felsen the Enduring speaks up next: "I've not spoken with the strangers, but I bore witness to their champions treading deep into the Crumbling Depths and returning unscathed. They are clearly capable."
Cressidha stands up straight.
Sil looks proud. Those giant stone-boring worms were a threat.
Terrath the Steady says, "These champions also faced the Stone Dragons and their Broodmother with no glimpse of fear or hesitation. I've seen the most hardy of giants falter where the fleshlings did not."
Sil smiles a little at the mention of the Stone Dragons, remembering leaping from stone to stone.
Diamant the Patient says, "You know where I stand, Stonemother. These champions have proved intent and capable. I see no reason to deny our trust."
"What of you, Boden?" Therazane asks. "What do you see in these 'champions?'"
Sil glances at Sir Atley a little nervously at that question.
Boden the Imposing rumbles, "It is not bravery that drives them. That one," a gesture at Dane, "strode before me like it thought this place its home. It is a fool. It will surely get itself killed soon enough."
"That very well may be," Therazane agrees. "Even fools have uses, though. I keep you around after all."
Sil lets out a very quiet held breath.
Atley glances at Sil and gives a firm nod.
The Stonemother stares them down. Stares through them. As if she's peering into their souls.
Therazane says, "My daughter, Theradras, sequestered herself deep within the Crystal Caverns of Terramok to grieve for her lost love, Zaetar. There, heartless, stoneless beings invaded and slaughtered her amidst her mourning."
Atley nods slowly as something seems to connect in his mind.
Cressidha stands tall. She had nothing to do with that.
"In…Maraudon?" Sil says quietly. "That was not our people."
Therazane continues, "If I had any reason to trust a creature afflicted by the curse of flesh, it was stripped from me that day. And yet in your arrogance, you persist. One day, you will outlive your usefulness."
Therazane glares, as if having heard Sil, but her animosity is directed at all three of them. "And so you've come. Fleshlings just like you killed my daughter… my only daughter. With no provocation."
Sil does not flinch, since he had nothing to do with her daughter's death.
Therazane says. "Not sated of stripping me of my family, more of you flocked to Deathwing to serve him in ravaging my home. You're quite arrogant to come before me asking for MY help. I'm tempted even now to crush you where you stand."
Atley sets his jaw.
Therazane says, "Stay where you are, champions. I have not yet decided what to do with you or your Earthen Ring."
Cressidha stays silent, because clearly she's not done.
"And so the 'champions' arrive," Therazane says. "So small. So soft. It's a wonder you've even lasted this long down here, fleshlings. Or perhaps a testament to your abilities?" She looks past the Cobalt trio at Earthcaller Torunscar, who has arrived. "All this for a piece of the World Pillar? What exactly, shaman, do you intend to do with it?"
Atley glances over his shoulder as Torunscar arrives and turns back to Therazane.
Earthcaller Torunscar speaks up: "We came here to seal da rift Deathwing tore into Azeroth. We need the World Pillar to repair da hole on dis side."
"And what then?" Therazane demands. "Will you leave Deepholm to its denizens?"
"We'll leave," Earthcaller Torunscar promises. "We've no desire to stay where we're not welcome."
"I'm glad you're at least that perceptive," Therazane concedes. "I propose this: We will march on the Twilight cult and extinguish any utterings of Deathwing's name from this realm. Your Earthen Ring will march with us. You do this, and I will send Gorsik to the temple with our piece of the World Pillar. Seal the rift and leave this place."
"We'll be doing exactly that then. Ya have our tanks, Stonemother," Earthcaller Torunscar says.
"Save your thanks," Therazane dismisses him. "We march upon the Twilight Precipice as soon as our forces are gathered." She looks at the shaman, and then down at Cobalt Company. "I expect to see all of you on the battlefield."
Atley sets his jaw and turns to give Torunscar a firm look before he looks to Therazane and bows low. "Stonemother," he growls in farewell.
Sil bows, holding his tongue for now.
Atley looks to the others and nods to Torunscar.
Cressidha bows respectfully to Therazane and backs off towards the shaman.
Earthcaller Torunscar wipes his brow and lets out a sigh. "Ya done well. Da Stonemother be listenin' and da World Pillar is not far from our reach."
Atley tongues the inside of his cheek and grunts.
"All we have to do is defeat the Twilight's Hammer," Sil says with a nervous smile.
Torunscar stands up straight, towering over Atley. "We must be rallyin' da Earthen Ring for dis fight. What we be lackin' in numbers, we make up for in strength."
Torunscar says. "Go ta tha temple and gather da restin' shaman from da rear rooms. Norsala and I will be meetin' them at Lorthuna's Gate."
"Of course," Cressidha says. She is very aware of still being in the room with the Stonemother and her Stone Lords.
"We'll see to it," Atley says before he nods at his comrades.
Not for much longer. They exit.
The team heads back to the Temple of Earth.
"Let's get to rousing. I warrant there'll be a time of preparation 'fore we strike." Atley says.
Atley rides Thoras through the Temple of Earth and into the back rooms. He looks at nearby loitering shaman, marching up to one Tawn Winterbluff.
"You again," Tawn greets the squad fondly.
Atley grunts. "There'll be an assault upon Lothuna's Gate soon. You're needed."
"The Stonemother and her forces will be marching alongside us," Cressidha adds.
Earthcaller Yevaa, standing nearby, perks up. "I am glad to hear we're fighting alongside Stonemother herself this time."
Tawn Winterbluff nods. "Exactly what I wanted to hear. We'll tell the others."
The team goes to find more shaman, and comes across Lorvarius.
Lorvarius turns to face them. "Ah. Greetings to you."
Atley grunts. "We're spreading the word. An assault's due on Lorthuna's Gate soon. We've got to have you with us."
"I suppose we arrived before the news," Cressidha says with a faint smile. "The Stonemother has agreed to fight with us."
Windspeaker Lorvarius stands. "I shall prepare."
The team heads into the other side of the temple, looking for Alliance shaman.
Atley gives goblin clustered nearby a stern look as he locates Stormcaller Mylra laying back.
"Mylra," Cressidha says, raising a hand. "We have good news."
The dwarf gryphon rider peeks an eye open and sit sup. "Oi! Good 'ta see 'ya …! Can't help but notice 'yer short one handsome lad."
Atley scoffs with amusement.
"Och, do ye'?" Stormcaller Mylra asks of Cressidha.
Cressidha nods. "Mr. Stillwall is well," she says. "But not with us today, no. The Stonemother has agreed to fight with us against the Twilight's Hammer."
Stormcaller Mylra widens her eyes. She glances over at Hargoth Dimblaze and sighs before flicking a pebble at the dwarf's forehead. The overworked shaman rises and rubs his eyes.
"The fight's oon'!" she tells her companion. "It'll be at tha' gate, won't it?" she asks.
Cressidha nods.
Ately grunts and nods. "That's them properly roused. Let's gather in the Temple for debrief."
Hargoth and Mylra run off.
"Well fought, today. We represented the company, our race, and all mortals well. The fight'll be soon and I know it won't be easy, and I know that we shall triumph."
"I'm sure we will," Sil says with a smile.
"Easier than it would be without Therazane's forces, I should imagine," Cressidha points out.
"Yeah, I think it was definitely worth the effort," Sil nods at Cressidha.
"I cannot say for certain if we'll truly never be allowed to return to this place after our business is through." He tongues the inside of his cheek as he raises his gaze and glances around. "Strange as this place is, it's an odd feeling. T'makes me wonder if millennia from now folk will believe most of this even happened."
"We're leading an… an adventurous life," Sil says to Dane. "Even if it is only stories, years from now, we'll have some good ones to tell Karson and Lila and their own kids one day."
Atley grunts. "I'll have to have the two of you about to validate my tales," he says with amusement. "We're dismissed. Prepare for a proper battle when we return."
Cressidha double-takes. She looks more closely at Dane. "Lila's been born?"
Atley nods. "She has. Just a few days past."
"I only know 'cause I happened by soon after," Sil says apologetically.
"Healthy? Oh, that's wonderful. Congratulations." Cressidha smiles at him. "I'll come by with more baby clothes soon enough."
Atley inclines his head. "We've all been busy," Atley says. "Cress, stay for a moment after, if you will. It'll be brief."
"Of course," Cressidha says, and stays.
Sil gives Dane a salute and Cressidha a smile. "Take care, you all."
Atley returns the salute to Sil and turns on Cress.
Sil heads for the Alliance side of the temple.
Cressidha raises a hand in a wave to Sil.
"I had wanted to do this with Colson present, but it dawned on me that I hadn't officially expressed my condolences for Amadeus. Ivri and I both." Atley says.
Cressidha lowers her eyes. "Ah. Well. It's… been some time, regardless. Thank you."
Atley sets his jaw and lowers his head. "I don't meant to torment you with the reminder. Stormwind has been deprived of a stalwart knight, and you, a brother. I am sorry. We both are."
"There's no good time for condolences," Cressidha says wryly. "But I do appreciate yours and Ivri's nonetheless."
Atley grunts. "Your gifts are gratefully accepted, even if you are spoiling my children rotten. Travel well. We fight in days."
Cressidha makes a noise of amusement. "Children grow out of clothes very rapidly. I'm sure you're eager to return home. Tell your family I say hello."
"I shall. And yours also." He inclines his head and marches off.