(2025-03-08) Ashenvale: Defenders of Ashenvale
Details
Author: Alli
Summary: Two groups of people (Anareline, Dane, Emerine and Anselyn, Baalun, Cerethan, Corvin, Saion, Sorraine) fight to defend Ashenvale from the Horde, as well as a potential rising furbolg threat. The threat is not over, but one must celebrate the victories of the day. ~8800 words
Rating: T for Teen
Anareline Silvershade Anselyn Sir Dane Atley Baalun Cerethan Corvin Trent Emerine Nightvine Saion Sorraine Riordan

The Story Begins at Orendil’s Retreat… (Anselyn/Baalun/Cerethan/ Corvin/Saion/Sorraine)

A group of people are accumulating by chance at a peaceful scholar’s retreat in northwestern Ashenvale that serves often as a traveling waystation.

Sorraine strums on a lute, singing a melancholy, but catchy tune, "I know not why I run away….I make thee cry when I run away…Though I wandered once, I wish to stay….Save thy tears for another…."

Saion bursts into dance.
Saion's dancing style does not exactly match the mood of the piece.

Corvin, who appears to be a blonde human man nearby, listens to the music a little wistfully. A little fox, Gon, sits by his side.

Sorraine smiles up at Saion as she sings. "Save thy tears for another day…ahhhh….Save thy tears for another day"

Cerethan attempts to leave the building, a satchel of scrolls under his arm. He stands there at the entrance, blocked by the group. His owl looks at them with curiosity.
Cerethan's owl now looks at Gon with less curiosity and more fear. Foxes are enemies.

Baalun sits inside the building mumbling mantras to himself. He's dressed for battle but for now he seems lost in meditation.

Sorraine sings on, happy to have an audience, "'Twas my folly in that month of May…When I vowed to thee that I would stay…But ask me not why swans in winter fly…For they can no more bide with thee than I…"

Sentinel Shyela looks around the retreat, a hopeful look coming into her eyes as she notes all the travelers passing through.
Sentinel Shyela says: Hey, you, travelers. You look like you could more than hold your own on a battlefield. *She eyes Saion and Baalun specifically, but also glances over the other worgen and night elves speculatively.*

Sorraine brings her song to an early close, sensing Things Are About to Happen.

[Saion]: Hello, yes, I am 7th Legion? Here for help.

Corvin looks over curiously, a hand drifting to his bow. "Yes, I was just passing through, but… is there a problem?"

Baalun opens his eyes and stands, "Yes. I have come to aid the people here. I am at your service, Miss." He inclines his head.

Sorraine looks Saion over horn to hoof. "My…you are the 7th Legion, aren't you?"

[Saion]: Yes!

Sorraine chuckles at Saion.

Cerethan just wanted to walk past the group. Now he's roped up into something apparently. "If my magic can be of use…"

Sentinel Shyela says: You could say that, yes. It’s just me protecting the scholars here, so we’ve just been lying low as the Horde set up camp across the road to the east.

[Saion]: HELLO BAALUN!
Saion waves at Baalun.

Cerethan is startled by the sudden loudness.

Sorraine winces and wrings a finger in her ear after Saion temporarily deafens her.

[Corvin]: Horde. *Corvin mutters, glancing to the east and tensing his shoulders. He jumps when Saion shouts.*

[Baalun]: Well met, Saion.

Corvin looks at the two draenei curiously.

Sentinel Shyela clears her throat.

Saion smiles and gives her his attention.
Saion salutes Sentinel Shyela with respect.

[Corvin]: What are they up to this time?

Sentinel Shyela says: Their new warlord, Garrosh Hellscream, has them up to no good. It’s only a matter of time till they come after us here, and I’m not going to be able to defend against an army. Clear some of them out, will you?

Emerine materializes from stealth. "Twelve Horde catapults en route to Maestra's Post," she reports to Sentinel Shyela. "Send them south when they're done here. Could use the reinforcements."

Emerine salutes Sentinel Shyela with respect.

Sentinel Shyela returns the salute and grimaces. "They never let up, do they?"

[Emerine]: Never.

Saion salutes Sentinel Shyela with respect.
[Saion]: Sir, yes, sir!

Emerine nods to the others and fades off into the shadows again.

[Sorraine]: Spooky!

Sentinel Shyela nods. "The ones closest to our retreat first, and then if you're willing… Maestra's Post could use some reinforcements, as she says."

[Saion]: Sir, yes, sir!

[Baalun]: It will be done.

The Sentinel seems completely pleased to have recruited a group of random people. Be in Ashenvale, get recruited into the war effort.

[Cerethan]: So… Who are you all?
[Cerethan]: … My apologies, that came out wrong, let met start over. I am Lord Cerethan Starflight, but you may call me Lord Cerethan. And you are?

[Saion]: Sgt. Saion! 7th Legion, 6th Ex-peditionary Unit!

[Baalun]: I am Baalun, a vindicator. It is a blessing to meet you all.

Corvin shifts uncomfortably. "People call me Corvin. I'm… I should tell you I'm a worgen. If we're fighting Horde, that'll be obvious."

[Saion]: I am know vorgen! This is fine and nice!

Sorraine gives a melodramatic bow. "I am Sorraine Riordan, the Erubescent Bard! Here to witness history firsthand."
Sorraine bows down graciously.

[Corvin]: Good, good. *Corvin does not give any explanation for why he doesn't have a Gilnean accent*
[Corvin]: I enjoyed your music, Sorraine.

Cerethan nods at Corvin. "Thank you. As for me, I am a scholar, an astromancer, a mage," he introduces himself back.

Sorraine very much has a Gilnean accent, but it is slightly unusual – a Traveller accent, for those who would recognize such things.

[Corvin]: A mage. Huh.
Corvin nods at the two vindicators.
[Corvin]: And you two know each other?

[Saion]: Ve are from Exodar!

[Cerethan]: It was an exquisite piece of music. It was also pretty loud, and I could not focus on my work, but you seem talented.

Sorraine arches an eyebrow at Cerethan. "Exquisite? Thank you. I'm delighted I was loud enough for you to enjoy it."

Cerethan rubs the bridge of his nose. "I offended you, I see. I didn't mean to, I… should have stopped at the exquisite comment."

[Sorraine]: No offense taken, luv. Takes a lot more'n that to ruffle my britches.

[Saion]: Haha! I know what is britches.

Sorraine laughs at Saion.

Cerethan nods slowly. He's not sure he knows what britches is, and he's too afraid to ask.

Another worgen appears at the retreat.

[Anselyn]: This is where the wind said.

Saion greets Anselyn with a hearty hello!

Corvin blinks at Anselyn. "Are you here to fight Horde? That's what we're about to go do. Would appreciate more numbers."

[Anselyn]: This is where the ground needs us. Ashenvale sings, but it needs their blood.

[Corvin]: All lands need their blood, from what I can tell…

[Anselyn]: It's not bad. All plants drink life!

Corvin scritches his fox behind its ears.

[Baalun]: If we are ready to head out I will take the vanguard. I am your shield, comrades.

[Sorraine]: Good to know, Tiny.

[Corvin]: Shall we? *Corvin gestures across towards the Horde camp.*

Saion laughs at Sorraine.

Sorraine strums her lute, starting up a new song as they move. "♫Lace your heart with mine…Let your sleeping soul take flight…Take me through the night…Down, down, down by the river…Down, down, down by the river♫"

[Corvin]: I'm more of a… shoot from a distance sort. So I'll stay behind the shield.

An Ancient’s spirit looks mournfully at the group.

Baalun says a prayer and holy light wreaths him.

Corvin peers at the transparent tree creature.

Saion just immediately starts whacking Horde.

Sorraine claps excitedly for Saion.

Bathran says: These creatures… these so-called Horde… they have cut me down in my prime and they are harvesting my hair for their evil plans.Will you help me to put an end to it?

[Saion]: Oh sorry are ve talk vit tree?

[Corvin]: I… uh… wasn't expecting that. But he seems talkative. *To the tree, he adds* We're working on it. Killing them.

[Saion]: Is okay now kill Hordes?

Bathran says: Not only killing them, you must stop them from their plans. I have overheard their herbalists speaking of something called wildfire upon their table across the way.
Bathran says: If you were to take the bottle of this unnatural stuff and throw it at my corpse to the northeast, it would burn and no more of my hair will grow here.

Sorraine peers up at the tree spirit. "You'ave hair, do you?"

Saion steps back with a slightly vacant look, clearly assuming someone else is going to handle the "stopping plans" part.

[Corvin]: Yeah… I think we could manage that along the way, right?

Baalun nods, "A grim fate, but we will aid you."

[Cerethan]: Our missions seem to share a common denominator, don't they? We shall handle the Horde anyway.

[Saion]: Who is captain?
Saion looks around.

[Corvin]: Uh. Baalun's our vanguard, right? Is that Captain?

[Saion]: Oh!
Saion salutes Baalun with respect.

Corvin nods.

Saion waits patiently for Baalun's orders.

[Baalun]: I will take the lead if that will keep us on the right path. Follow me.

Saion nods at Baalun.

Saion salutes Baalun with respect.
[Saion]: Sir, yes, sir!

Corvin readies his bow. His fox growls.

Meanwhile, at Maestra’s Post, Soldiers Gather… (Anareline/Dane/Emerine)

As Nightvine indicated, Maestra’s Post is under heavy attack. Horde forces, both on foot and on catapults, are arrayed against the front, where Sentinels form a defensive line. Burning projectiles soar past to strike the main building. From a an orc-occupied kaldorei tower nearby, an orc – Orux Thrice-Damned – oversees the assault.

Anareline raises a hand in greeting to Sir Atley. "I'm glad you could make it."

Atley raises a hand in return, helmet carefully tucked under his arm. "As am I. We've a square bit of work ahead of us, haven't we."

Anareline nods seriously. "Sentinel Onaeya is in charge of the defense. We'll need to report to her to see where things stand." Anareline narrows her eyes at the Horde forces.

Emerine's glider pulls up behind the building. She folds it up and appears from around the side of the building.

Atley sets his jaw and nods. He glances around the woods with a shrewd expression before he doubletakes Emerine and squints faintly. "A sister Sentinel of yours?" he asks Anareline.

[Emerine]: Hail, Sir Atley. Evensong.

Anareline shakes her head reflexively. "I have never been a Sentinel. I merely fight alongside them… at their orders…" Ana trails off. "The distinction begins to mean less over time. But yes, she's one of ours."

[Anareline]: Hail, Nightvine. *Ana's ear twitches as another catapult projectile lands nearby.*

[Atley]: This fight's closer to home than the Scarlet Onslaught, innit'.
Atley regards Emerine gruffly.

Emerine's eyebrows have grown out a bit since Jocoza's summer party, but they aren't quite full-length.
[Emerine]: Aye. Onaeya should be… there.
Emerine points her out.

Atley grunts and looks over. "Let's see wot' we can do about it." He peers at Anareline. "I'm at your command."

Anareline moves over to Onaeya. "Evensong, here to reinforce. And Sir Atley the Red, and you know Nightvine."

Atley cracks off a sharp salute to Sentinel Onaeya.
Atley salutes Sentinel Onaeya with respect.

Sentinel Onaeya says: Nightvine, Evensong, Atley – I need you out there against those catapults. More reinforcements are on the way, and I don’t know how long we can hold out.
Sentinel Onaeya says: I have a small squad of sentinels that I can loan to you. Get them close and I'm certain that their magic arrows can destroy those wreckers and invaders.

Atley shifts his gaze towards the battlefield and squints. "Done."
Atley sets his jaw and tugs his helmet on, taking a single moment to adjust it.

[Emerine]: Not much cover.

Anareline checks her gauntlets and nods. "We'll need to draw their attention, to give the archers cover to shoot."

Atley grunts in agreement. "Spread out! One of you is a waste of ammunition — five is a great opportunity!"

Orux Thrice-Damned yells: Smash them! Destroy them! Lok'tar ogar!

Emerine shadowsteps to an Ashenvale Wrecker and slits the throat of the goblin manning it.

Anareline moves with deadly grace, wading directly into battle to give the archers an opening. Arrows fly past her.

Atley charges a tauren Horde Invader and slices them nearly in half with Thunderfury. "Now! Loose!" He aims Thunderfury at a catapult, directing the archers.

Orux Thrice-Damned points directly at Atley with his Thunderfury.
Orux Thrice-Damned yells: I want that one killed! The one right there that doesn't look like the others!

Anareline looks up at the tower.
[Anareline]: I'd like to clear out that higher ground.

Atley points up at the tower with Thunderfury. "They can see the whole bloody valley from there. We need to take it!" he agrees.

[Anareline]: The tower gives them too much of an advantage. *Ana nods*

Orux Thrice-Damned yells: That one, over there. Target them. Do NOT let them get past you!

Emerine grunts and slips into stealth again.

They are unable to stop the three fighters. They fight their way into the tower, and up to the top. There they see Orux, an orcish warlock, with his imp.

[Atley]: A warlock.
Atley growls, sounding both revolted and unsurprised.

Orux Thrice-Damned says: I'll carve your hearts out, maggots!

Anareline snarls quietly in agreement, "Warlock."

They move in to kill him.

Orux Thrice-Damned says: NO! Hah, you think you can stop me….

[Anareline]: I hope the Sentinels are able to occupy it before more catapults arrive.

[Atley]: The least we've done is buy them some time.

[Emerine]: TIme helps.

Atley grunts.

The team reports back to Onaeya.

[Anareline]: We've pushed them back, taken out some of the fighters in the tower.

Sentinel Onaeya says: Thank you. That gives us a little breathing room. Maestra was here complaining about something a while back. Think you could check in with her?

Atley looks to Anareline from within his helmet.

[Emerine]: She's probably inside with the wounded.

Atley nods crisply and marches along.

Anareline nods, following Emerine.

Back at Orendil’s Retreat, helping Bathran (Anselyn/Baalun/Cerethan/Corvin/Saion/Sorraine)

The team squares up against the camp of orcs and forsaken, who are settled in around the corpse of the Ancient Bathran.

[Baalun]: Very well. We will now engage the enemy. For the Light!

Cerethan's owl eyes the fox as it growls.

Saion cheers at Baalun!

Forsaken Herbalist says: You will not stop us, filthy draenei!

[Corvin]: Forsaken. Somehow I expected orcs over here.

[Saion]: Green is bad!!

[Corvin]: Yeah. *Corvin, now a worgen, shifts uneasily.* Green is bad.

Sorraine, Anselyn, and Corvin are now worgened out, as one might say.

[Cerethan]: I… see we have more than one worgen joining us today.

Orc Overseer says: Warchief Hellscream will have your head if you don't pick up the pace, Forsaken!

[Saion]: I spit on your Warchief! Haahaha!

The team finds an alchemical station and attacks the herbalist manning it.

Forsaken Herbalist says: Someone! Help!

[Baalun]: Look. This must be the wildfire.

[Corvin]: Yeah, looks like it.

Saion nods agreeably.

[Corvin]: I think that's the Ancient's body, over there by those pillars.

[Saion]: Okay!

[Baalun]: Indeed. I can see it from here. We march!

Saion cheers at Baalun!

[Cerethan]: It seems like it. A shame, really, to have to burn it like this.

[Corvin]: It's sad, but… better than letting them do whatever they want with it.

Cerethan nods at you.

Saion swings his mighty battleaxe at the Horde as though it's some kind of schoolyard sport, brimming with enthusiasm!

[Sorraine]: I'ad a boyfriend once'oo called me "Wildfire". Come to think of it….'ad a girlfriend called me that, too!

Corvin flashes a smile at Sorraine. "Maybe you didn't need the bottle of it."

Sorraine laughs at you.

Cerethan seems to be drawing constellations as he casts his spells.

[Baalun]: Now to deprive the Horde of his hair.

The Ancient catches flame easily, and burns away.

[Corvin]: Be at peace, giant tree. *Corvin growls at the fallen Ancient*

Saion jumps in surprise as they set the huge thing on fire, then cheers and claps.
Saion may not have been following the plot.

Cerethan takes a step back.

[Sorraine]: Bittersweet, innit? Burnin' away'is body.

[Anselyn]: His ash will make good earth.

[Corvin]: Yeah. And we know it's what he wanted. Benefit of talking to spirits.

Sorraine smiles at Anselyn. "I loik the way you fink."

[Anselyn]: Come back here, for mushrooms. They like ash.

[Baalun]: Indeed. Sacrifice is always painful, even when necessary.

Saion nods at Baalun.
Saion seems to agree with whatever is said, somewhat indiscriminately.

The Ancient's spirit is still there, and looks more at peace already.

Bathran says: I feel it already. You have helped me to return to the ground.Now my hair will cease to sprout for these creatures. Better yet, I will be regrown all the sooner.

Saion cheers at Bathran!

[Baalun]: We are glad to help.

[Corvin]: Oh, yeah? *Corvin smiles* Glad to hear it. Maybe we'll find your sapling one day.

[Sorraine]: Awww, dat'd be so cute!

Saion wipes off his axe.

[Cerethan]: We look forward to seeing you grow again, although we might not all have the chance here. I suppose your growth will be rather slow, won't it?

Bathran says: Yes, we do not grow quickly. But faster than it would have been, if they'd been able to keep my form as they were.

Corvin nods. "The Sentinel's probably waiting for word…"

The team heads back to the Retreat.

Saion salutes Sentinel Shyela with respect.

[Baalun]: It is done, Miss Shyela.

Corvin gives a careful salute to the Sentinel.

Saion smiles at Cerethan.

Sentinel Shyela says: A job well done. If you're any indication of the quality of the Alliance fighters we're going to be seeing more of, we should have this war against the orcs and their Horde taken care of faster than expected.

[Saion]: I am 7th Legion! Pride of Alliance!
Saion thumps his chest.

[Cerethan]: Well, our time together was enjoyable, I must say. This is an interesting group of people.

Sentinel Shyela says: On that note, I need to ask you to head to Maestra’s Post right away. I’m sure you heard what Nightvine said, when she came through.
Sentinel Shyela says: I don’t think they’ll last long without reinforcements, and you’re right here, so it’s up to you, travelers. Please, help defend our forests.

Anselyn bows before Sentinel Shyela.
[Anselyn]: Ishnu dal dieb, Sentinel Shyela. Shaha lor'ma dula Luvus'dahalar.

Sentinel Shyela looks at Anselyn with surprise and approval. "Ishnu dal dieb."

[Cerethan]: … I suppose we will be travelling further together. I was going to head in that direction anyway.

[Baalun]: It will be done.

Sorraine nudges Cerethan. "Come on, Starboy. We ain't done yet."

Corvin nods. "I was on my way to Astranaar."

[Cerethan]: Star-. Hm.
Cerethan fetches his rental Dawnsaber.

[Anselyn]: would it be Kalethar, then? Kal is star, isn't it?

Sorraine whistles! "Hildegard! Egbert! Let's go!"

Saion's elekk is bigger even than most elekks. And judging by its put-upon expression, smarter.

[Cerethan]: I suppose so. I wouldn't call myself a… starboy however.

With that, the motley but effective team takes to the road…

Within Maestra’s Post, A New Problem Arises (Anareline/Dane/Emerine)

Dane, Emerine and Anareline move into the building, away from the constant bombardment of the Horde.

Atley slowly scans his surroundings, examining the many injured Sentinels.

Anareline's expression darkens as she sees the walls lined with the injured.

Emerine calls, "Maestra."

Moon Priestess Maestra says: Nightvine.

Atley bows briefly, given the urgent circumstances. "Milady."

Moon Priestess Maestra says: I have my hands full here, tending the wounded, but I'm afraid the Horde may not be our only problem.

Atley squints.

Moon Priestess Maestra says: The furbolg have descended from the heights and overrun the Ruins of Ordil'Aran to the north. I think it might be related to recent occurrences.

[Anareline]: Recent occurrences.. the Horde offensive? Or something else?

Atley grunts and looks past Maestra, northward.

Moon Priestess Maestra says: Something else. You see, Ordil'Aran was a night elf city once long ago. It fell to ruins during the Sundering and only recently some outsiders moved in to pillage it.

Emerine clicks her tongue disapprovingly.

Anareline mutters, "Outsiders, no doubt orcs…?"

Atley looks from Anareline and Maestra, apparently on the same mental track.

Moon Priestess Maestra says: Well, we think these outsiders may have reactivated some kind of ancient magical devices that have disturbed the furbolg, who then swarmed the place and slaughtered them.

[Anareline]: Ah. They are dead, then.

Atley grunts with slightly more approval.

Moon Priestess Maestra says: Yes, they're not our problem. It's the furbolgs. They're still rampaging, and even if I could find the time to go out there, I could not investigate what might have disturbed them.

Moon Priestess Maestra says: Can you investigate in my stead, and tell me what you find?

Atley inclines his head. "Of course."

[Emerine]: We'll have a look.

Liladris Moonriver glances over from the balcony and says, "Maestra is concerned about the reason behind the furbolgs’ behavior, and I sympathize, but they’re also poised to attack us at any moment."
Liladris Moonriver says: We can’t afford that while we’re already fighting the Horde. Can you thin their numbers? We cannot fight on two fronts!

Atley pries off his helmet and rakes a hand through his hair.
[Atley]: We'll see to it, milady.

Anareline hops over the balcony railing and drops down to the ruins north of the post.

Atley tugs him helmet back on and flings himself over the railing after Anareline.

Emerine nods and vaults over the railing of the balcony, dropping to the grass below.

They come across a white-furred furbolg who seems to be channeling something into a green glowing orb set up on some kind of large stand.

[Atley]: Oi — eyes up. Some sort of ritual.
[Atley]: That typical with this lot?
Atley asks the kaldorei.

Anareline peers at the white-furred furbolg. "I would not say so."

Atley grunts.
Atley eyes the Green Moonstone up and down. "Right. Wot's this, then?"

[Anareline]: I do not like the look of it. Some sort of… magical artifact. The highborne ruins often have dangerous things such as this.

Atley grunts and looks between them. "Ought to make note of it. Look for any others as we clear them out."

[Emerine]: Probably what set them off. Don't touch it, let someone who knows what they're doing handle it.

Anareline nods. "I would never advise trusting strange magical artifacts."

[Emerine]: Red one's glowing too.

The team continues to explore, and comes across signs of the'outsiders’. At least, they come across one body near a red, glowing stone that is similar to the green one.

Anareline peers down at a human body, clothed in purple. "Hm. Not orcish outsiders, then."

[Emerine]: Twilight's Hammer cultists?

Anareline looks up at the red stone with narrowed, suspicious eyes.

Atley narrows his eyes and kneels, promptly rolling the body over. "I'd say."
Atley kneels down.

[Anareline]: If so, they have brought their own doom down upon them.

[Atley]: Curs are biting at our heels all over the world.

Another glowing stone is set nearby.

[Emerine]: Another moonstone. I only see the three.

Atley grunts.

[Anareline]: We'll report that to Maestra, then.

Atley grunts.
[Atley]: Another cultist.

Atley doesn't bother kneeling this time. He rolls the corpse over with his boot. "Torch's still burning. Killed not long ago."

[Anareline]: Elvish. Sin'dorei. The cult attracts many…

[Atley]: Let's carve our way back then, mm?

Anareline nods.

Emerine smothers the flame of the torch. Can't have fires starting by accident.

They come across another body on the way.

[Atley]: Another blood elf.
[Atley]: They're not dressed as frontline fighters. Sorcerers, more like.

[Anareline]: They are prone to corruption, it seems. As are the furbolg. An unfortunate thing to have in common.

[Emerine]: The Twilight's Hammer takes all sorts. Lots of ogres.

Atley grunts.

Another body.

[Emerine]: A troll, here.

Atley nods to a dead Twilight's Hammer cultist.

[Anareline]: If only they could work together to better ends than destruction.

Emerine gracefully vaults back onto the balcony.

Atley does so as well, but slightly less gracefully.

Anareline climbs back up onto the balcony.

Liladris Moonriver says: I saw you from here. We are in your debt. That should hold them back long enough for Maestra to figure out the root cause.

Atley removes his helmet again and grunts.

Emerine nods and goes to make her report to Maestra.

Maestra turns as the three fighters return.

[Emerine]: It was Twilight's Hammer cultists, in the ruins. The furbolg were concentrated around three oversized moonstones. Red, green, blue-white.

Atley follows along and inclines his head to Moon Priestess Maestra.

[Emerine]: There's an enchantment of some sort active on them.

Maestra nods, listening intently.

[Atley]: They were in the middle of performing some sort of ritual as we came upon them.

Moon Priestess Maestra says: That does sound troubling. I will need to send someone with knowledge of Highborne magic to deactivate them. That is… not common among the kaldorei.

Atley grunts.

Moon Priestess Maestra says: Do not worry, I will find someone. In the meantime, can you check on Orendil’s Retreat? The scholars up there are dangerously close to a Horde camp, and have little defense.

Atley looks from Emerine to Anareline before he nods. "We'll look into them."

[Emerine]: We'll check in.

Atley looks to Anareline as he tugs his helmet back on.

Anareline moves to the balcony to call down her gryphon.

[Emerine]: It's along the road. Not far.
Emerine unfolds her glider.

Atley marches outside, shield raised. He whistles for Thoras to sync up with the others.

Atley shakes his head slowly as he looks over the destruction.
[Atley]: Ashenvale burns.

[Anareline]: It will not always.

Atley grunts emphatically.

[Anareline]: I will need to check in with my daughter after we are done here. And… another I have promised to watch.

[Anareline]: Larawen may be heartened to hear that Sir Atley of Stormwind came to join our defense.

Atley grunts quietly and lowers his head faintly.

The Travelers Arrive at Maestra’s Post (Anselyn/Baalun/Cerethan/Corvin/Saion/Sorraine)

Corvin flinches at the catapult fire as they approach Maestra's Post.

Anselyn threatens Horde Invader with the wrath of doom.

[Baalun]: The Horde is here in force. *He grits his teeth and steels himself*

[Corvin]: They weren't kidding about the attack.

Orux Thrice-Damned yells: Your time has past, night elves. Ashenvale is ours!

Saion watches the huge flaming projectiles alertly.

[Anselyn]: Your BLOOD WILL HEAL THE GROUND! YOU WILL BE FLOWERS! REJOICE!

Saion cheers at Anselyn!
Saion understood'rejoice,' it seems.

Sorraine grins at Anselyn.

Sentinel Onaeya says: I certainly hope that you're here to help. The situation is as dire as it appears. To put it quite simply, we are losing!

[Sorraine]: Bit of a mess'ere, innit?

Cerethan is looking for a safe place to hide for him and his companions.

Sentinel Onaeya says: Bit of a mess, indeed. My girls and I are the last line of defense against the Horde, but we're not going to get out of this one without taking the fight to them. Up for a challenge?

[Saion]: YES!

[Baalun]: Always. Tell me where to strike.

Sentinel Onaeya says: I have a small squad of sentinels that I can loan to you. Get them close and I'm certain that their magic arrows can destroy those wreckers and invaders.

[Sorraine]: Sounds lovely!

Orux Thrice-Damned yells: There is no hope for you. Your Darkshore lies in ruins. Astranaar will fall before the end of the day as will this place. Retreat to Darnassus while you still can.

Corvin's ears twitch up at the shout from the tower.

Saion's axe hews at the horde much in the way they hew at the local trees.

Corvin looses arrow after arrow into the horde as his fox attacks.

The team and their associated Sentinels wipe out the Horde reinforcements.

[Baalun]: Well fought, everyone.

Saion cheers at Baalun!

Sentinel Onaeya says: Thank you, strangers. With what you've accomplished the tide is turned. I've no doubt now that we'll route them by the end of the day!
Sentinel Onaeya says: I have one more thing to ask.

Saion listens!

Sentinel Onaeya says: There were two humans here: Feero Ironhand and Delgren the Purifier. They were members of a holy organization known as The Argent Crusade. Both fell defending the post when the Horde first attacked.

[Baalun]: Say the word.

[Saion]: I know Argent Crusade!

Sentinel Onaeya says: I fear it’s too much to ask to recover their bodies, but we must send something back to their people. I'm going to loan you a collection of magical cloaks. They are gifts from Cenarius that allow us to move invisibly.

[Sorraine]: Invisibly? Ooooh…
[Corvin]: Magic, huh?

Sentinel Onaeya says: Please, find both of their corpses and retrieve Feero's hammer and Delgren's prayer book. Feero's corpse is in the courtyard and Delgren's is atop the tower. Beware, the warlock up there will be able to see you. He has been slain once before, but he resurrected himself via his foul magics before we were able to reclaim the tower.

[Saion]: Hammer and book, yes?
Saion confirms.

[Baalun]: Precious mementos. We will have them.

Saion repeats "hammer and book" to himself a few times cheerfully.

[Corvin]: Here. A human. We've already cleared to him.

The human lies on the battlefield amongst many fallen Horde. They probably can get his body later, as it happens.

Saion gently pats Feero Ironhand.

Corvin bows briefly in respect to the fallen Feero Ironhand.

The team turns toward and advances on the tower.

Orux Thrice-Damned yells: Surrender, Maestra, and I will see to it that your deaths are quick!

[Baalun]: Now to find the book.

Sorraine puts on her cloak and turns invisible! "Awww, I can get used ta this."

Corvin nods. "She said up in the tower."
Corvin slips into his cloak.

Sorraine taps Saion's shoulder. "Got to put the cloak on to turn invisible, luv."

[Saion]: OH!

[Baalun]: Get ready to fight once we reach the top.

Cerethan nods at Baalun.

Gon the fox slips away quietly.

Orux Thrice-Damned yells: I can see you, worms. Are you grunts blind? Kill them!

Corvin whispers, "That's the one who was shouting before."

Cerethan whispers. "And who is shouting again."

[Sorraine]: Bloody great turd. Let's push'im off the tower.

Corvin whispers, "Yeah. And I see the body."

The human Argent Crusader, Delgrin the Purifier, fell not far from the warlock.

Saion laughs loudly!!!

Orux Thrice-Damned says: A worgen? I spit on you!

[Corvin]: He saw me!

[Baalun]: The Light shall judge you!

Orux Thrice-Damned says: NO! Garrosh, I have failed you….

Corvin kicks the warlock's body.

Saion gently pats Delgren the Purifier.

Cerethan looks into the prayer book and begins to read it.

[Corvin]: That's the book, then?

[Baalun]: It would seem so.

[Saion]: Hammer and book!

[Cerethan]: Ah, yes! It appears so.

[Corvin]: Small comfort, but I hope it will help his loved ones.

[Sorraine]: Cloaks on, lads!

Sentinel Onaeya says: Did you find them?

[Saion]: YES!

[Baalun]: We did.

Sentinel Onaeya says: Thank you. I do not look forward to writing the letter to the Argent Crusade embassy in Darnassus. At least we'll be able to send their most prized possessions back for their loved ones.

[Anselyn]: We have the book and the weapon, and many more Horde are dead.

Sentinel Onaeya says: Seriously, I cannot thank you enough for your courage. While we finish the mop up here, I’d ask you to speak with Maestra in the lodge. There's been some kind of problem out back, but we're a little busy here.

[Baalun]: It may be grim, but it is our duty to offer what comfort we can to the living.

[Saion]: I help!

Sentinel Onaeya nods. "Well said."

[Cerethan]: I just want to say, I am grateful you loaned us such a precious artifact and asked us to command your soldiers. Truly, I insist on giving you my thanks as I don't wish you to think I am abusing my status as a Quel'Dorei.

Sentinel Onaeya peers at Cerethan. "I won't turn away any help in these times, but I'll remember you, Highborne. And really, you might be exactly who Maestra needs right now."

Cerethan nods politely. He is being such a great guy, right now.

The Soldiers Arrive to Orendil’s Retreat (Anareline/Dane/Emerine)

Anareline raises a hand to the lone Sentinel guard at Orendil's Retreat.

Emerine salutes Shyela.

Sentinel Shyela says: Nightvine, good to see you back. I’ve just recruited a bunch of travelers into the defense. They’ve proven useful against the Horde across the road, so I’ve since sent them down to the defense of Maestra’s Post.

[Emerine]: Good.
[Emerine]: First wave of catapults is down. There are more en route.

Atley grunts through his helmet.

Sentinel Shyela says: They never seem to end. But all things end, eventually.

[Atley]: Their ferocity is desperation.

[Emerine]: Maestra's Post still stands. Quite a few wounded. Maestra's got her hands full.

Sentinel Shyela says: I wish I could be there… but this place needs to be defended as well.

Atley nods. "Wot' needs doing?"

Emerine's ears flick, and she looks across the road in the direction that Shyela mentioned Horde previously.

Sentinel Shyela says: Ah, there is one thing I'd ask you. Those travelers also burned the body of our fallen Ancient Bathran, hastening his rebirth and denying the use of it as raw materials to the Forsaken Alchemists.

Atley shakes his head with a small growl of disgust.

Sentinel Shyela says: Unfortunately, there was some of his hair growing in the vicinity when this happened, so they already have materials for whatever foul purpose they had in mind.

[Atley]: We can regain it.

Sentinel Shyela says: Thank you. Collect as much of his hair as you can find, and kill any Horde who stand in your way.

[Atley]: We'll kill them all.

Anareline nods agreement.

[Anareline]: Forsaken in our woods, and not only orcs.

[Emerine]: Orcs too.
Emerine points at Orc Overseer.

[Atley]: I've got it.
Atley charges the mounted Orc Overseer.

Anareline presses her lips together in disapproval.
Anareline spots a pile of what looks like leaves. "There. Hair of an Ancient."

Atley reaches down to grab clumps of it. "Ought to be more about."

Orc Overseer says: Good, the Alliance has come to play!

Emerine executes a Forsaken Herbalist and opens her satchel, emptying out the leaves inside.

[Atley]: Should've never trespassed into this forest, black-blood!
Atley strives to live up to his intention of killing them all.

Forsaken Herbalist says: What are you doing here?!

Orc Overseer says: Finally someone to smash!

[Anareline]: I shudder to think what they might do with the body of an Ancient.

Orc Overseer says: Lok'tar ogar!

[Atley]: Their depravity knows no end.

Forsaken Herbalist says: Some nice contagion of rot for you, my pretty?

Atley doubletakes the massive burned body of an ancient with a scowl.

[Anareline]: He will be reborn in time. That is the way of things.

Orc Overseer says: How special… you're good at picking flowers. Are you going to send me a bouquet? Hahahaha!

Atley grunts and nods faintly.

Orc Overseer says: A potion to melt the elves? Maybe you'll need it, Forsaken. I have my mace to crush their skulls!

Emerine does not banter back with the Forsaken or the orcs. Her response is knives.

Anareline does not answer any taunt. Her response is the same as Emerine's — cold steel.

[Atley]: See anything else moving?
Atley asks, looking over the field of slaughter.

[Emerine]: Fireflies.

Anareline looks around at the dead. "They will not be making any poisons or plagues with those remaining."

Atley grunts.

Anareline smiles faintly, raising her eyes from the bodies to the glittering lights. "Yes, fireflies. They may remain."

[Atley]: A similar sort live near my home. My son tries to catch them.

[Anareline]: They must seem magic to children, but they are not — wondrous, but natural.

[Atley]: Our homes are not so unalike it seems, as well.

Atley approaches Sentinel Shyela. "We put them all to the sword, and we've the hair."

The sentinel smiles at the returning team appreciatively for a moment.
Sentinel Shyela says: A job well done. I knew I could count on you.

[Atley]: Wot' else would you have us do?

Sentinel Shyela says: I wish I could ask you to stay here and help defend the retreat, but a runner just came through saying there’s been an air attack on Astranaar.
Sentinel Shyela says: I have to stay here, but they’ll need reinforcements.

Atley snaps his gaze to Anareline at that.

Emerine swears in Darnassian. "Come."

[Atley]: Let's ride.

[Anareline]: Astranaar. *Anreline closes her eyes for a moment.* Larawen lives close by. Let's make haste.

Emerine hops on the back of a nightsaber. It is not her nightsaber.

Solving the Furbolg Problem at Maestra’s Post (Anselyn/Baalun/Cerethan/Corvin/Saion/Sorraine)

The group moves into the main building at Maestra’s Post.

[Baalun]: Priestess Maestra. We are here to offer our aid.

Anselyn bows before Moon Priestess Maestra.

[Anselyn]: Ishnu dal dieb, Moon Priestess Maestra. Shaha lor'ma dula Luvus'dahalar.

Moon Priestess Maestra says: What a relief. Inshu dal dieb, young ones. And… ancient ones.
Moon Priestess Maestra says: The furbolg from the heights have occupied the Ruins of Ordil’Aran, just to the north of here. My allies have determined that they did so because they were attracted to three moonstones.
Moon Priestess Maestra says: Liladris Moonriver other there will counsel you to deal with the furbolg in a more direct manner, and I will not gainsay her, but I would ask that you go to the ruins and deactivate the moonstones, should any of you possess the knowledge to do so.
Maestra looks pointedly at Cerethan.

Saion listens attentively, but his stare is a bit too steady.

Anselyn stands up straighter and nods. "We shall."

[Baalun]: Are these furbolgs also consumed by the madness that plagues their people?

Moon Priestess Maestra says: I certainly hope not. I hope that if you handle the moonstones, they will disperse.

[Baalun]: Light willing that will be the case.

Moon Priestess Maestra says: I suppose you should speak with Liladris, though, before you go.

Anselyn bows before Liladris Moonriver.

Liladris dips her head in acknowledgment of Anselyn.
Liladris Moonriver says: I did overhear your conversation. Indeed, I would see you handle the most pressing problem, that they may attack us now, while the Horde are on our doorstep.
Liladris Moonriver says: The moon priestess has a plan to make sure that no further furbolg descend upon us from the highlands. I am more concerned with those that are already at the ruins, some of which are massing just outside of the post.

Saion remains attentive, a slight smile on his face, and absolutely nothing going on behind his eyes.

Liladris Moonriver says: We do know they’re violent, because we’ve unfortunately seen them in action from here.

[Cerethan]: turns his head to look at Saion. "Fascinating."

Liladris Moonriver says: Ordil'Aran was once a night elf city, but it fell to ruins during the Sundering. Recently, some outsiders moved in to pillage the area.
Liladris Moonriver says: Now they are dead, victims of their own curiosity that attracted the furbolg down upon them. It happened so quickly we were unable to assist, even had we wanted to.
Liladris Moonriver says: So… distasteful as it may be, I must ask that you head north into the Ruins of Ordil'Aran and slay the furbolg.

[Saion]: Kill furbolg! Sir, yes, sir!

[Baalun]: It will be so.

Gon the fox slips back in with the group.

[Baalun]: Onward! For the Light!

[Corvin]: That big glowing thing… think it's a moonstone?

Sorraine shrugs at you. Who knows?

[Saion]: Look like tree.

[Corvin]: Uh. Cerethan. Can you deactivate it?

[Cerethan]: Well, if I had to name a thing a moonstone, I would not pick the color green…but I do feel a powerful magic emanating from these specific stones.

[Anselyn]: It feels like things growing, but colder.

[Baalun]: Can you disable it?

Saion grips the haft of his giant battleaxe and turns his back to the conversing group, eyes on the surrounding furbolg.

[Cerethan]: My, of course! *He walks around and traces a constellation around the Moonstone, sealing its magic.*

Sorraine nudges Corvin. "Oi. Wot's yer deal? Why d'you talk so funny?"

[Corvin]: Must be a Highborne thing.

[Sorraine]: Not him. You. Don't sound very Gilnean, s'all I'm sayin'.

Cerethan deactivates the red moonstone similarly as he did the first.

Corvin glances warily at Sorraine. "I don't know. Don't remember much from… well, from before the kaldorei woke me up."

[Anselyn]: Mother was an actor. She taught me.

[Saion]: Not all vorgens is Gilneas!
Saion #NotAllWorgen.

Sorraine chuckles at Saion. "I know dat, Tiny. But I thought Corvin said he were from Gilneas."

[Cerethan]: … why was there a doubt that this comment was addressed to me? Do I speak… funny?

[Corvin]: I uh… I said I was a worgen. I was around that area, more or less, when they caught me, I guess.

Sorraine grins at Cerethan. "I wouldn't say'funny'. Just…peculiar."

[Anselyn]: So I'm used to talkin' swish, y'ken? soft and fancy like velvet.

Corvin looks at Cerethan in apology. "Sorry, yeah. You're both all smooth and fancy."

[Saion]: I am learnink Common!

[Anselyn]: You're doing well!

Saion thanks Anselyn.

[Cerethan]: My apologies if I'm wrong, but switching the register of your vocabulary does not change the meaning of the word. Peculiar is still'funny'. Right?

Sorraine chuckles at Cerethan. "Not really. Peculiar just means loik…'unusual'."

[Anselyn]: It can mean peculiar. Funny, I mean.

[Sorraine]: Anyway, I was just curious'bout Corvin'ere, s'all.

[Saion]: Everyvun speak Common different. Is okay!

[Cerethan]: I suppose, so. My circle seems to speak in a similar fashion.

Corvin smiles, not quite meeting Sorraine's eyes. "Yeah, I mean, wish I could tell you more." His accent is mostly Stormwind, but not quite right.

[Anselyn]: Do you remember anything at all?
[Anselyn]: If you want to know it. The story, I mean.

Corvin shrugs to Anselyn. "It's all kinda… shifty… like dreams I can't quite get hold of."

[Anselyn]: You might not have a choice. Buried seeds will grow.

[Cerethan]: We call this amnesia. *Cerethan pushes his non-existent glasses up.*

Anselyn nods. "I remember that."

[Corvin]: Maybe. Maybe I'm happy with who I am now. *Corvin smiles*

Sorraine nods to Corvin. "Aye, we've all been there, boyo. But it seems loik ou've lost more'n the rest of us. In memories, anyway."

[Anselyn]: Like you had a dream, and it's important, but you're waking up and it's fading.

Corvin nods at Anselyn. "Yeah, just like that!" Then he turns to Sorraine. "It's important we all stick together, though. No matter what we've lost. That's uh… that's what the Alliance is all about."

Cerethan deactivates the third Moonstone.

Saion cheers!

[Baalun]: We've finished here. We head back to report.

Corvin nods at Baalun.

The team makes it back to Liladris at the balcony.

[Baalun]: We have done as you've asked.

Saion nods at Baalun.

Liladris Moonriver says: We are in your debt. If I know anything about the furbolg, they do not like their noses bloodied. It won't be long now before they tuck tail and return to their village.

[Baalun]: That is good. We do not need more enemies here.

Saion nods at Baalun.

The Moon Priestess looks over expectantly.

[Sorraine]: Bloody hell, Egbert. Hold still for eleven seconds.

Saion turns toward Sorraine at "bloody hell" as though expecting he's being addressed, then smiles and turns away when it's clear he isn't.

Moon Priestess Maestra says: How did it go with the moonstones?

[Baalun]: We have handled the moonstones, Priestess.

[Cerethan]: Their power is sealed.

Corvin | Moon Priestess Maestra says: Thank you. With the moonstones of Ordil'Aran deactivated, we should not need to worry about any further incursions of furbolg here.
Moon Priestess Maestra says: However, my scouts have returned with disturbing news from the furbolg village. There is an imminent danger massing there. I wonder, might I entice you to carry a warning to Astranaar for me?

Saion nods at Moon Priestess Maestra.

[Sorraine]: You could entice me to do a lot, lass….

Maestra raises a long eyebrow at Sorraine, but she looks amused.

[Baalun]: We will.

Saion salutes crisply.

[Cerethan]: And Astranaar is high on the list of things we could be enticed to do, as several of us were on our way there already.

[Corvin]: Yeah, that was my destination.

[Saion]: Unit captain ask me to help and make report! So I help now! Report later.

[Sorraine]: You're a good helper, Tiny.

[Corvin]: Helping first is always good.

[Saion]: Vhat is tiny?

[Sorraine]: You are Tiny!

[Saion]: I am Saion!

Sorraine chuckles at Saion.

Thus bantering, the team heads for Astranaar…

[Cerethan]: I would be happy to help you with that report, if you require assistance in this task. I don't know if your speaking skills translate well into your writing skills, but you would need some help yourself if so.

Astranaar is Burning!

Anareline/Dane/Emerine

Anareline's expression hardens as they approach Astranaar… in flames. Wind riders swoop by overhead.

Atley widens his eyes at the fires before he glares at the wyvern riders.

Emerine leaps off saber-back as they approach the bridge. She slaps the saber on the flank. It runs back down the road.

Anareline sprints to the Sentinel in charge of defense, Thenysil.

Atley follows, shield and Thunderfury drawn.

Sentinel Thenysil says: Astranaar's burning! Quickly, take this bucket of water and put out the fires before there's nothing left! All hands on deck!

One of the buckets of water vanishes. Emerine is invisible.

Atley swipes up a bucket and rushes off to douse flames.

Anareline grabs another bucket of water and wastes no time in getting to work.

Atley tirelessly throws water on flames, rapidly sprinting back to scoop up more in the nearby lake.

Many other people are pitching in, not only kaldorei but also worgen and draenei.

Emerine hops in a nearby Astranaar Thrower.

Anareline moves without ceasing, fighting back the flames with bucket after bucket of water.

Anselyn/Baalun/Cerethan/Corvin/Saion/Sorraine

Corvin draws up in alarm at Astranaar. "It's under attack!"

Cerethan realizes the state of the town. Oh no. He won't find a quiet place to study here either.

[Baalun]: It is worse that I had feared.

Sorraine winces at the carnage. "Bloody hell…."

Anselyn bows before Vindicator Palanaar.

Sentinel Thenysil says: Astranaar's burning! Quickly, take this bucket of water and put out the fires before there's nothing left!

Saion keeps reflexively looking over at Sorraine every time she says "bloody hell", the way a dog twitches at the sound of its name.

Baalun raises an eyebrow, "Palanaar. You are a welcome sight."

[Saion]: Palanaar!!

Saion holds out his arms as though going in to hug Palanaar.

[Sorraine]: Palanaar! *Sorraine does not know Palanar.*

Vindicator Palanaar smiles faintly at Baalun and Saion and nods. "At a difficult time, though. The Horde's wind riders are setting our buildings ablaze."

Saion takes the hint and drops his hug-arms.

[Sorraine]: Let's get to puttin' out summa these fires, yeah?

[Saion]: Vater!

Corvin nods, grabbing a bucket.

[Sorraine]: The buckets, boyo!

Saion points helpfully.

Anareline/Dane/Emerine

Eventually, the fire seems to be beaten back.

Atley nods briefly at Emerine before he runs back to the Sentinel in command.

Ana moves with Dane back to Thenysil,

[Atley]: We've stifled all the flames we saw.

Sentinel Thenysil says: Yes, the fires are mostly contained, but we have to do something about those wind riders! Quick, you have to jump into one of our glaive throwers and return fire!

Atley looks from Thenysil to a glaive thrower. "Very well."

A wind rider falls from the sky, skewered like a snack.

Anareline glances at Dane. "Have you used a glaive thrower before?"

Atley says, "No. But I learn swiftly when greenskins are trying to kill me."

Anareline smiles fiercely. "Then I will not doubt your skill."

Atley grits his teeth and launches a glaive, slicing through wyvern and rider simultaneously. They fall through the roof of a nearby burnt building.

[Emerine]: Good shot!

[Atley]: Mind that pair! Coming in low!

Anareline dives into a glaive thrower as well, and takes out wyvern after wyvern with deadly aim.

[Atley]: Fine piece of machinery, that.

[Atley]: They've paid for this air space in blood.

[Anareline]: And they've retreated. This air is not theirs.

Atley grunts.

Anselyn/Baalun/Cerethan/Corvin/Saion/Sorraine

Sentinel Thenysil looks relieved as the flames get under control. Palanaar looks over and nods with approval.

[Baalun]: That should stave off the flames for now.

Sentinel Thenysil says: Thank you! Now it's time to deal with the Horde!
Sentinel Thenysil says: The fires are mostly contained, but we have to do something about those wind riders! Quick, all of you have to jump into one of our glaive throwers and return fire!

[Cerethan]: This method of fighting back seems barbaric. Magic should do the trick somehow, don't you think?

Baalun turns to the rest, "Let's move!"

Saion shrugs at Cerethan. Who knows?
Saion moves!
That poor Ballista.

Sentinel Thenysil says: If you can strike them down with magic, be my guest.

[Sorraine]: Can't use magic for everything, Starboy.

Starboy tries to strike them down with magic. It's ineffective, because they are too fast. He keeps trying, though.

Saion cheers at Baalun!

[Saion]: Good shooting them, captain!

Corvin joins the others in the Astranaar Throwers, sending spinning disks to take out wind riders.

[Sorraine]: Cor blimey, I gotta get me one of those flingy things!

Before long, the wind riders are driven back, and Astranaar regains some semblance of peace.

Anareline/Dane/Emerine

Anareline, Dane, and Emerine approach Sentinel Thenysil for more instructions.

Sentinel Thenysil says: Enough have been shot down that we should be able to handle the rest. I cannot thank you enough.

Emerine flings a knife through the throat of someone grounded but still moving, and goes over to retrieve it.

[Atley]: Wot' else needs doing?

Sentinel Thenysil says: I think this has been enough trouble for one day. We've bloodied the Horde, and I hear from Maestra's Post that the tide has turned.

Atley nods once.
[Atley]: I'll stay the night, in case they counter.

Emerine removes her mask and wipes sweat from her forehead.

Sentinel Thenysil says: I'm sure there's room in the inn for all who fought in the defense.

Atley inclines his head. "Thank you, my lady."

Anareline breathes in and out slowly. "Take care, both of you. I will go to see if Lara's home is safe."

Atley pries off his helmet and rakes a hand through damp bruette hair.

Atley looks to Anareline. "It grieves me to see your folk making this stand by themselves. The Horde will be brought to justice for this, in time."

Emerine nods and starts stalking around Astranaar, checking on the fallen wind riders and their riders.
Emerine might be counting herself among the 'we' who are handling the rest.

[Anareline]: They will. *Ana agrees, and her gaze flicks to Emerine. Still, she doesn't fall in to assist, and instead heads to the outskirts, where a small hut, hopefully unburned, awaits.*

Atley tugs his helmet back on and whistles for Thoras. The two take to the sky, looking for dogfights.

As the three move off, the group of travelers rushes in to report.

Anselyn/Baalun/Cerethan/Corvin/Saion/Sorraine

[Baalun]: We have thinned their forces.

Sentinel Thenysil says: Enough are shot down that we should be able to handle the rest. I cannot thank you enough. Who are you again?

[Baalun]: I am Baalun, a vindicator.

Sentinel Thenysil says: Pleasure to meet you.

[Saion]: Sgt. Saion, 7th Legion, 6th EU!

[Corvin]: Corvin. We uh. We come with a warning, about the furbolg.

[Sorraine]: We're Baalun's Brave Brigadiers!

[Cerethan]: Lord Cerethan Starflight. Thank you for the trust placed in us.

[Anselyn]: Anselyn Pearson, of Gilneas. I'm a harvest witch.

Corvin grins at Sorraine. "Yeah, that's it. Baalun's Brave Brigadiers."

[Saion]: Baalun's Brave Birageers!

Sorraine bows. "And I…am Sorraine Riordan, the Erubescent Bard!"

Sentinel Thenysil says: I'm pleased to meet all of you. You came in at the perfect moment. Now… furbolgs you said? You'll want to talk to Raene when you get a chance. She's our furbolg expert.

[Saion]: Sir, yes, sir!

Baalun gives everyone a somewhat tired look at the mention of'Baalun's Brave Brigadeers.'
[Baalun]: Of course.

Cerethan chuckles. "Of course, you have a furbolg expert."

Saion cheers!

Cerethan waves goodbye to everyone. Farewell!

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