![](http://cobalt-company.wdfiles.com/local--resized-images/writing:2025-04-20-a-first-draft-s16-e6-blue-squad-log/style="margin:/medium.jpg) |
| Details |
| Author: | inkie |
| Summary: | Blue Squad is tasked with making diplomatic overtures to some local red dragons. Deathwing ensues. (Some stuff happens in between.) Bran sketches, Oranna fashes, Iphindra has a snail in her hair. No one is killed by a duck. |
| Rating: | M for Mature 17+ |
Shine is seated cross-legged on the wall at the keep's entrance.
Bran paces back and forth, reading a book. He somehow manages to actually climb and descend the stairs without looking up from the book.
Shine watches the pacing with what might be amusement. He's not telling.
Bran snaps the book shut and looks up to ponder something — and spots Shine. "Lo there!" He stuffs the book in his bag
Shine nods gravely. "How was the week?"
"Oh, coulda been worse, coulda been worse. You?" Bran smiles up at him.
Shine considers the question. "It was fine. Which also means it could have been worse, I suppose. That seems like a long spectrum."
"Well, after last Sunday, I can pretty much noew claim that anythin' coulda been worse. Makes conversation easy, aye?"
Shine nods blandly. "The wedding could have been worse. The bard might have played his song."
Bran guffaws.
Shine smiles faintly.
"When I was on a frozen plain in Northrend, covered in corpses I couldna resurrect an' dyin' people the Light simply wouldna touch, I thought, well, this is the worst day o' me life, an' everythin' after this will seem like a party. But nae. Azeroth can always dish up worse, aye?"
Shine's brow goes up again and he reconsiders Bran, this time a little more intently. "That's how ye know Lady Sintha, then. From the Death Gate?"
Bran nods solemnly, but with a glow in his eyes that's at least first cousin to happiness. "Aye, I'll never forget tha'. Dozens o' hardened soldiers on tha' battlefield, so mired in despair they couldna even accept havin' their own lives saved… some dark magic gripped 'em harder'n I've ever seen. An' somehow she not only walks out but manages to drag another bloke with 'er?" Bran just shakes his head and lets out a low whistle.
Shine smiles again, less faintly this time. "Lady Sintha's a force of her own."
"Sintha," Bran says aloud, as though trying to etch it into his slippery brain. "Aye, the Legion Lass. She's… one o' the Big Ones."
Shine is silent a moment as if trying to solve this code in his head. But at length he asks, "Big Ones?"
Bran laughs. "I suppose it's better in Dwarvish, but even then it's… peculiar ta me, I thenk. People are… well, we're all connected, aye, everythin' is a big… web, or crystal structure or… there's Patterns in life. An' some people… they move through the pattern an' everywhere they go they make tremors in it, shift thengs. Big Ones."
Shine raises his eyebrow and is silent again. He nods slowly. "That's… an interesting… aye. Aye, she might be."
"Our Atley, too, he's a Big One. I thenk you an' me are Wee Ones but those are important too, the Big Ones need 'em." Bran nods.
Shine nods too. He does not seem to be put out by not being a Big One. "Aye. Fallon's one, I wager."
"Oh aye, I thenk so. Thengs move around him for sure." Bran nods.
Shine smiles faintly again.
"Frankly I find it invigoratin' just ta follow Big Ones around," Bran says cheerfully.
Shine's smile is a little wider. He nods agreement. "Aye."
"Funny theng about Boomer — er, Stormbreaker — I thenk she is a Big One who's hidin' because she would rather be a Wee One."
Shine tilts his head. He gazes into the distance for a time and then nods. "Aye. I could see it."
"I've no doubt though," Bran says solemnly, "tha' she could move heaven an' earth if she believed it necessary. It'll have ta be for someone other'n her, though." He smiles. "She'd never do it for her."
"She seems a good lady," Shine says. "D'ye know what happened with her man?"
Bran nods. "Aye. Lost in Northrend. Pewr theng." It's not clear if he means Bargrimm or Oranna is the pewr theng. Both? Both is good.
Shine nods sympathetically. "Recent, then."
"Aye," says Bran. Then he adds as an afterthought, "Especially fer a dwarf. Ye know, we process thengs a bit slower than humans do. Or you process faster, whichever angle ye look from."
"Aye. Expect we do most things faster, insofar as personal histories go."
"As ye should!" Bran says. "I've always admired how much life humans live in how short a time! Inspirin'."
Dane marches up to the keep from the shoreline, finishing up an apple with a few hearty crunches, helmet tucked under his arm.
Shine considers this. "And I'd say dwarves — " He stops, rises to his feet, and salutes Atley.
Bran will never get to know what Shine would say about dwarves.
Dane swallows and transfers the apple to his spare hand before he cracks off a salute of his own. "King's Honor, you lot. How's the day."
"Could be worse," Bran says, and then winks at Shine.
Shine smiles faintly. He drops down from the wall to land soundlessly by Bran.
Dane grunts and takes another crunchy bite. "I've word. I'll tell it once more of us are rallied."
Shine nods and draws a knife to examine the blade. Shine's knives are the most scrutinized blades in Azeroth.
"Do ye like apples?" Bran asks Dane.
Dane nods at Brannagen. "I do." He proves it by taking another bite. CRUNCH.
Shine arches his brow. The man even eats noisily.
Iphi joins the group and does not get stuck on a lamp. "H-hi!" She salutes the group, removing her helmet. "I'm sorry I missed last week. I h-heard it didn't go as planned…"
Dane raises a hand to fire off a crisp salute. "Rarely does. I trust your duties elsewhere were of importance," he says with a nod.
"It w-was," Iphindra nods.
"Plan's always just a first draft," Shine says dryly.
Dane grunts at Shine
"Oh, Blossom, I'm sure glad ye were NAE here last week. Ye'd not have been happy one bit."
says Bran.
Iphindra looks at Bran. "You think I couldn't have handled it?" There's a little flower that withers in her braid.
Dane looks between them before settling on Iphindra. "You wouldn't have enjoyed it any more than the rest of us."
"Ye could've handled it, lass, but it would've broken me heart ta see ye handle it." Bran gives Iphindra a wistful smile. "Like watchin' a kodo stomp on a flower, it would've been."
Iphi nods. This feels like they don't want to see her sad, which means they think she can't handle very bad stuff. This is sad.
Dane grunts and starts to subtly look for a place to dispose of his apple in a knightly fashion.
"Pitch it in the sea," Shine suggests. No one out-subtles Shine.
Sadly, Bran cannot create pocket dimensions to dispose of apple cores in. The team clearly needs a mage.
Dane grunts at Shine with his lips closed, mid-chew.
"Do fesh like apples?" Bran says.
Bran doesn't know, because his fishing skill is only 138.
"Don't believe they do. But the sea will handle it all the same." Shine shrugs.
Oranna exits out of the keep at a run, still finishing braiding her hair. She waves with half an open hand and also her braid. "Hullo! Sorry, sorry, we lost track of time this morning." Befound looks at Oranna aghast. How dare, Befound is always on time.
Shine nods courteously to Oranna. And then to Befound.
"Alright then, you lot. Here's the situation. An Alliance emissary working with the dragons in the area's requested our presence. We're flying out to meet her." Dane looks between them. "Smartest behavior."
"Oooh, dragons!" says Bran. Smartly.
"Sir," Shine agrees with Dane.
Oranna looks uneasy. Smartest behavior? "Oh, ahh… right. Smartest. Tha's… a settin' I know and …do?" Does she?
Atley tugs on his helmet. "You do."
"Yer good, Boomer," says Bran with a grin. "Just be you!"
"Mount up." Dane whistles for Thoras and climbs aboard.
Bran calls Bronzebird.
Iphindra mounts up on the unnamed gryphon. But he is frend.
Oranna gives Bran a weak smile, as she clings fully bodily to her gryphon's saddle like it's doing air gymnastics. It is not.
Dane tosses the apple core over the side, into the water, as they fly.
A single tear runs down the cheek of some Wildhammer somewhere.
As they fly over the dried, dead remains of the Maw of Madness, Atley's reminded of a better place to have disposed of his trash.
Shine didn't think he wanted to hold onto it for that long.
They arrive at the Earthen Ring enclave near the Maw of Madness, where a kaldorei woman is in conversation with one of the shamans. She steps aside and shades her eyes to watch the approaching group.
Dane deftly dismounts and approaches the new figure. "Lady Trueblade? We're with Cobalt Company."
Shine follows silently at Dane's shoulder.
Lauriel Trueblade says, “Welcome back! Slaying that Old God's servant must have been strenuous, I'm sure.”
Oranna nods wordlessly.
Dane grunts.
Strenuous is a word.
Lauriel explains. “I was dispatched to establish relations with the red dragons in the area, but I'm finding this bunch somewhat less accommodating than the ones at Wyrmrest were. I have, however, been told that you are the types that solve problems.”
"Oh aye," says Bran.
Shine nods. He solves a certain subset of problems.
Dane grunts again.
Oranna makes a vague uhhhh? sound that could be taken as a smart commentary on the nature of problems, solving them, and the diversified skill set of this group.
Lauriel smiles. “A Company of problem solvers, as it were. Care to take a crack at earning a bit of trust with Lirastrasza at Vermillion Redoubt to the southwest? Anything that might soften her up a bit for me would be lovely.”
Shine looks politely to Dane.
Bran immediately begins rummaging in his Book Bag for his favorite dragon book.
Dane nods slowly. "We'll see to it."
"Be c-careful everyone." Iphindra's eyes go wide. "Dragons are powerful, they could k-kill us if get on their bad side!" Iphindra explains helpfully.
Lauriel Trueblade smiles faintly. "I wish I could say you were wrong. Good luck, indeed."
Shine glances at Iphindra. He nods once. He knows.
"Well, if it helps, so could a very determined duck," Oranna adds. "Kill us, I mean, in the right… well, wrong circumstances."
"Smart behavior," Dane briskly reminds everyone.
"Pffft," says Bran with a wave of his hand. "I've never been killed by a dragon in me life!"
"Reds," Shine says to no one. He also says it pretty quietly though, so.
"Me neither, but I co– I could handle it!" Iphindra says very confidently.
The group wings their way toward the mountain enclave called the Vermillion Redoubt.
As they cross the ridge and the verdant fields of the Redoubt unfold beneath them, a group of red drakes rises from the surrounding crags in pursuit. Strong dragon-wings bring them easily in range of the startled gryphons, and the drakes snatch the members of Blue Squad from their saddles and carry them off.
Welp.
Rather than simply taking them over the ridge and dropping them, however, the drakes carry them to the far edge of the green Redoubt meadow, and then deposit each of them roughly — okay, there may be a little dropping involved — on the grass. An apparently-sin’dorei woman stands nearby, her arms folded and her expression dire.
Dane lands with a small growl, looking to each of his squadmates.
Oranna groans dizzily as she gets her bearings. Befound is twice as large, poofed up to Maximum Cat.
"I'll confess," Bran says amiably, "that tha' has also never happened before in me life."
"There's a time for e-everything!" Iphindra answer Bran.
"So it would seem," Bran says to Iphindra merrily.
Shine looks wary.
Oranna looks worried.
Lirastrasza says: You've crossed into the domain of red dragons, mortals.
Lirastrasza says: You and your allies have struck against my kind at the gates to Grim Batol in the past. You've shown no respect for the sacred oath we would die to keep. You'll find no trust with me.
Lirastrasza says: Fortunately for you, your fate is not mine to decide. Calen awaits you by the tree.
Lirastrasza says: My drakes shall be watching you. Choose your words and your actions carefully.
She does not wait for audience questions but transforms into a sleek red dragon. With a few wingbeats, she is gone.
"The emissary spoke true. These dragons are surlier," Dane issues unpleasantly before he turns and looks at the tree.
"But they grow beautiful flowers!" Iphindra touches a flower that's as tall as she is.
Shine watches the dragon fly off. He looks a little perplexed. "What've we got to do with Grim Batol?"
Dane shakes his head at Shine. "I cannot say. Stay sharp, you lot."
Bran makes his way through grass that's shoulder-high to him, looking around with obvious curiosity.
"Can't say I'm glad to meet hostile red dragons," Shine observes.
"Oh. Ah. Right, because… oh," Oranna says awkwardly. "Maybe it's… good they're so cautious?"
Dane eyes the massive form of a red dragon as it sleeps at the base of the tree.
"Oof, that's a big'un," Bran observes.
The blood elf they just spoke to stands beside a towering night elf man with white hair. An armored apparently-human stands silently to one side.
Dane briefly glares at Lirastrasza before he looks between the two strangers. "We're to meet with Calen, then."
(Calen proves to be the night elf.)
“I'm glad Lira didn't scare you off. I won't say her concerns aren't warranted, but we have a common enemy. She is perhaps a bit overzealous.” Calen says warmly.
"Ach, I'd've done the same," Bran says with a wave of his hand.
He'd have… snatched people off gryphons and flown away with them? Or…?
Oranna is just comfortable with an oversharer at least. Familiar territory. "Oh, well. Tha's… all right, then."
Calen inclines his head. "Deathwing has returned. He's seized Grim Batol and much of the highlands, and I feel near powerless to stop him. Soon, our queen shall arrive, and together we shall put the once Earthwarder in his place."
Shine actually takes a half-step back. That is a lot of headlines in one news story, buddy.
Oranna waves awkwardly to the guy. "Sounds… like a plan?"
Dane sets his jaw and pointedly explains, "We've come to see that through."
Shine looks around at the others. No one? Deathwing? Alexstrasza? Are they also Cobalt drinking buddies?
Calen regards them calmly. “I won't be so impolite as to refuse your aid if you're offering it.”
Dane grunts.
Iphi looks at Dane to know if they offer it to the night-elven-looking dragon.
"Against Deathwing? Aye, aye, we're… offering. Aren't we?" Oranna asks Dane.
"We are," Dane announces. "He is our enemy."
Calen sighs and links his fingers together. “We're locked in constant battle with the twilight drakes and dragons to the south. Our strikes have not been entirely without success, but the dragons coming out of Grim Batol have been breathing some kind of corruption upon us that takes time to cleanse.”
Bran pulls out his journal and begins to make notes busily, the lines of his handwriting as straight as if he'd used a ruler.
Iphi nods to Calen.
Dane squints as he listens.
Oranna nods. "That… would explain a lot. They dinna behave right, and there's been more dragons with… odd behavior around."
Calen nods to Oranna. "A keen eye."
"Not — not you dragon, I'm not sayin' that ye… I mean. It'd be okay if ye did —" Oranna clears her throat and stop talking. Whew.
Calen explains, “Velastrasza and Baleflame are attending to our injured brothers. Go and see if you can be of help to them.”
"Let's get to it, you lot. No time to waste if Her Majesty's on the way, then," Dane says.
Oranna sighs heavily. "Well, that's happening, isn't it."
Dane grunts. "We're on the timetable of the Red Flight. If they mean to kill him here, we'll mean to help them, then."
Bran writes furiously.
Oranna clutches her gun to herself. "I've just got bullets, Dane. He's the size of a small mountain. We need more of a plan than jus'… us headin' for him."
Shine checks his knives again. Maybe he should have brought more knives.
Dane nods at Oranna. "Indeed. We'll put one together as we carve our way through his minions."
"Plan's just a first draft," Shine mutters under his breath.
Bran chuckles at Shine and keeps writing.
Iphi puts a hand on Oranna's shoulders. "W-we can handle it!" They can Oranna! They can!
Oranna shakes her head. "I'm no' sayin' we dinna need to do somethin', it's just…" Oranna goes quiet as they approach Velastrasza and Baleflame.
Dane looks between Velastrasza and Baleflame. "Velastrasza. Calen's sent us."
Velastrasza says, “Calen has become very trusting. It is not often that strangers are permitted within the redoubt.”
Shine sheaths a knife and straightens to try to focus on the… red dragon.
Velastrasza says, “Our dragons are returning from battle covered in Twilight-corrupted flame and pursued by Twilight drakes. My menders can tend to our dragons' wounds, but they must be defended. Keep the drakes off of my menders. Lend your healing to our dragons as well if you are able.”
Iphi looks at Bran and smile. Healer frend!
Bran smiles back at Iphi, even though he's still writing. He can sense a smile, 360 degrees.
Dane grunts. "We'll see to the safety of your members."
Shine nods to Dane and then to the… red dragon.
Velastrasza tips her head. “Thank you for your help with this. Our battles for Grim Batol are never-ending. We need to get our strongest dragons back into the battle as soon as possible.”
Oranna pats a bag. "I've got bandages, but… fer humanoid sized people, not… dragons, so…" Oranna looks to Bran.
"I've go' the Light," he says helpfully.
"I've got plants!" Iphi says. "And a plant's not just a first draft." She giggles at her own pun.
Bran chuckles.
Baleflame hisses. “Mortals… I have a task for you.”
Dane turns to eye the monstrous-looking lizard centaur.
Baleflame says, “Take these ruby seeds and plant them at the corpses of any dragonkin that you come across. Twilight or Vermillion, whelping or dragon, it matters not. We need to see that their bodies are returned to the earth so that life can continue to flourish.”
Dane looks from Baleflame's outstretched palm to Iphindra.
"Oh, tha' sounds like a job fer Blossom," Bran suggests.
Iphindra takes the seeds. "I'll do this, tha-thank you!"
Bran beams at her.
Baleflame inclines his head. “In death, there should always be new life. This may be our one consolation during times of war and great tragedy.”
"Well said," Bran says enthusiastically to Baleflame. "It's all about the Beg Pecture."
Dane grunts.
Oranna just looks sad. "That's… not a lot of a consolation," she says quietly.
Shine glances down at Oranna. He makes a soft noise that might be sympathetic.
"Ach, sorry lass," Bran says quietly with a pat for Oranna.
Oranna gives Bran a forced smile. "Well, we got ta do somethin', and this is somethin'. So."
"Blue Squad, on me," Dane says, marching Thoras away.
Shine follows Dane.
Dane looks between them. "We need to focus on crossing one bridge at a time. War is a game of inches, of minutes. We keep our heads, do wot' tasks need to be done, and Alexstrasza'll have a plan for us. We cannot allow Deathwing to defeat us in our minds before we cross swords with him in person."
"Understood?" Dane asks.
Shine nods once at Dane.
"Breng it on," Bran says warmly. "I know yer nae about ta lead us right inta the beast's maw. Ye know what yer doin. We're just here ta support ye, Big Guy." With this last, he winks at Shine.
Oranna nods. "I don't… actually have a sword," she says. "But… Aye. I take yer meanin'." She's focused in on the detail maybe a little too hard. "Did Deathweng have a sword though? In the dream thing he didna, but I wasnae really looking fer somethin' in his claws."
Dane shakes his head. "It's a phrase among my people."
"I do not believe he carries a sword," Bran tells Oranna helpfully.
"Figure of speech," Shine says.
"Aye. Well, with Dane, ye never know. He'd be the one ta notice if a dragon were carryin' a sword," Oranna says.
Dane ponders Oranna's statement for a moment, before he cranes his head in a nod.
"Common's full o' metaphors," Bran observes.
Dane grunts at Brannagen before he turns and flies off.
They don’t have to go far before they spot a wounded red dragon sprawled on its side in the grass. Around it, a trio of red dragonflight menders channel life energy intently. A group of Twilight drakes is already settling to the ground around them.
Dane grunts. "Cover the menders!"
Iphindra kneels down beside the corpses of Twilight drakes and plants the ruby seeds into the ground, nurturing them with hands glowing green. Roots appear and drag the corpses back into the ground.
Dane nods at Iphindra with approval.
Shine steps back from a Twilight drake's corpse and squints at it. "Color of 'em," he observes to himself.
Oranna squints at the color.
The menders finish their task, safeguarded by Blue Squad.
Acridostrasza stands and stretches, letting out a roar before beating his thunderous wings and flying off.
"There's one, then. Back to the others," Dane says.
Bran gets whacked in the face by a particularly tall red flower as he hurries after the others back to Baleflame.
Befound takes a swipe at a passing turkey. Dragon in disguise?
The turkey flees. It is not a dragon.
"We've gotten one of your mates back on his feet," Dane explains to Velastrasza.
Velastrasza says, “We will take Grim Batol back from the Twilight's Hammer and their allies. It may take time, but this is one charge that we cannot forsake.”
Dane gestures to Iphindra. "And she's seen to the dead."
"I did!" Iphindra nods. "Thank you for the seeds." She smiles.
Baleflame says, “In this, we deny Deathwing the destruction that he so passionately seeks. In this, life continues.”
Bran nods.
Oranna doesn't say 'for now' but she's thinking it, and worrying about it.
Velastrasza perks up and stares off into the distance for a moment before widening her eyes.
Dane furrows his brow.
Velastrasza says, “Calen sent word — the Twilight are within the Redoubt! If there will ever be a time when you can earn his favor, this is it!”
"In the…" Oranna whips her head around to look through her scope.
"I canna see from here," Oranna says. "We have ta get closer."
"Have to get closer to kill them, anyway," Shine observes.
"Well, aye, tha' too, but ta know how many we're lookin' at tryin' ta kill," Oranna agrees.
"I hope it's okay if I plant another tree here, when we're done with this m-mission." Iphi tilts her head. "I feel like this is the ri– the right place!"
Dane grunts. "A fine idea. For now, we must defend it."
Dane rides up to Calen. "We've heard. Wot' needs doing."
Bran manages to take one hand away from his book to salute.
Calen says, “I hope you're as tough as your gear suggests. The Twilight's Hammer have made their way within the Redoubt somehow and I need someone to hunt them down.”
Shine is at attention. This is his department.
Calen says, “Fragile Twilight invaders litter the redoubt. They're pouring in from somewhere to the west.”
Dane sets his jaw.
Calen glares. “There can be no mercy offered to them within this hallowed place. Whatever violence grips your mortal heart, release it upon them.”
Oranna chews at her lip. She doesn't really seem like she's got a violent heart.
Bran nods nods nods, writing and looking like violence totally grips his heart.
Shine touches the hilt of a knife. He nods. There is a lot of violence in his mortal heart, actually.
Calen says, “Every inch of air and every hill surrounding the Redoubt is constantly under the watchful eye of Lira's drakes. They must have found a way into the shrine from beneath.”
Dane squints past Calen's shoulder before refocusing on the 'night elf.'
"Aye, tha's wha' I would've done," Bran observes.
Bran is also a dwarf.
"Aye, well, it's dwarven lands… chances are good there's caverns and caves an'…" Oranna says.
"Beneath?" Iphindra puts a hand on the ground, trying to follow roots down underground.
Calen offers Iphindra something. “Take this Flashgrowth mote. It should prove more than sufficient to close any hole, tunnel, or portal they might have used to get inside our defenses. Find the breach in our defenses. Close it.”
Iphindra gets up when Calen offers her something. "I wi– I will find them!"
"Oh, that's helpful, thank ye," says Bran.
Lirastrasza regards them coolly. “I know you have no reason to be fond of me, just as I'm not terribly fond of you, but I need any help I can get.”
"I got nae problem with ye," Bran says earnestly.
"I have n-no reason to not be fond of you!" Iphi shrugs, with a smile on her face.
Bran tips his head toward Iphi. What she said.
Oranna looks oddly hurt. "Well, aye, we dinna know each other well yet, it's a bit early ta be passin' judgment."
Shine has no comment.
Dane grunts. "I have issues with anyone who ambushes people under my command," Dane says honestly.
Shine looks at Dane. There we go.
"Oh, well, they didna know our intentions, aye?" Bran says amiably.
"We did enter their territory. Lots of creatures and people aren't fond of that," Oranna agrees with Bran.
"I didn't mind the am-ambush!" Iphindra. "It's like we entered a beehive without w-warning."
Bran tips his head toward Iphindra again.
Lirastrasza growls. “Our eggs are being stolen by these Twilight invaders. I have no doubt that they want to take them back to Grim Batol to experiment on and pervert. I will NOT let that happen. Twilight dragons were born of these disgusting experiments of theirs. The Twilight's Hammer have gone too far. Deathwing has gone too far.”
"Ach, babies corrupted again," Oranna says. "I'm sorry ta hear."
Lirastrasza regards them with a kind of earnestness, looking from face to face. “If you truly do want to help us, stop them! Recover the eggs. Bring them back to me.”
Dane inclines his head. "We'll take care of it."
"Deathweng really is a whole theng of chaos, isn't he? It's like he finds the worst theng ta do ta each person, an' does it," Oranna says as she clambers onto her gryphon.
"Do ye know, the elves call him Xaxas, which literally just means chaos?" Bran dwarfsplains.
Dane eyes Brannagen. "I hadn't."
Oranna's interest perks up. "Oh, aye?"
Shine did not know that. He nods thoughtfully at Bran.
And then Oranna goes quiet as her gryphon launches into the air at the speed of molasses, which Oranna treats like a rocket ship.
"Aye in the oldest elven texts, tha's the name," Bran says with a smile too cheery for the subject.
"Been barking mad for some time, has he?" Dane snarls disdainfully.
"Oh aye. War o' the Ancients," Bran says.
Below them, in the marshy valley of the Shrine, Twilight invaders hurry back and forth, lugging dragon eggs.
Dane lands and swiftly rushes into combat.
"Well, then… at least this sort of all makes sense, if he's actin' like it, an' it's… his normal," Oranna says.
Oranna stops talking again as the invaders come out of the marsh in waves.
"Aye, Deathweng's been… very much the same fer ten thousand years, just with… varyin' degrees o' success," Bran opines. Despite attackers.
Shine cuts a Twilight orc's throat with a particularly vicious twist of the knife and no change at all in his expression.
Dane disembowels another cultist and promptly stomps over the body.
Oranna makes an uncomfortable sound as she examines a corpse. "Dane, we've got troggs," she says.
"Probably comin' up from the tunnels," Oranna guesses.
Dane glances at Oranna, and then the corpse. "Must be desperate to throw these witless worms at us."
Bran makes notes in his journal, occasionally tossing out heals as needed.
Dane reconsiders and looks around. "No. They dwelled here. Before the cultists attacked."
"Aye. Troggs like the deep places," Oranna says.
As the squad cuts their way across the marsh, killing Twilight cultists and retrieving eggs, a squadron of red dragons appears overhead. The dragons begin searing long channels of flame into the marshy earth to catch fleeing Twilights.
Dane calls out. "Eyes up!" He leaps out of the way of a red dragon strafing run, narrowly avoiding it.
Oranna also narrowly misses being set on fire.
Bran throws a shield up around Oranna just in case.
Shine says something under his breath and stares up at a passing dragon.
Oranna sighs as she shoots a dwarf carrying out an egg.
Shine steps over his most recent Twilight corpse and glares direly at another passing red dragon as it breathes fire just past them.
Bran thumps an egg thief with his staff.
Oranna takes a moment to stare at some weird swirly tentacle thing on a rock. "Well, tha' canna be good," she mutters.
Dane leaps out of the way of another strafing run and glares upward.
Oranna yelps as the dragon breathes fire near them again.
Shine says something under his breath that is largely unintelligible but definitely has the word FUCK in the middle.
Iphi jumps into a ditch to avoid a dragon's fire breath.
"I LIKE MY EYEBROWS!" Oranna shouts up at the dragon.
"Light's sake," Oranna says. "I feel like they're jus' barely missin' us by a hair."
An eyebrow-hair.
"Everyone still got their eyebrows?" Bran asks cheerfully.
"Fer now," Oranna mutters.
"I only have the one," Shine observes dourly.
Iphi gets up from the ditch with a snail stuck to her leg. "Hi!" She joins the group, looking at the snail climbing along her leg. "Be careful there!"
"That cavern, there," Dane says, pointing Thunderfury. "Scout it out. Have that mote ready."
They head into the cavern. Down a twisting passageway, they find a strange platform, humming with violet-tinted energy.
Dane nods at the strange device. "That'll be it, then."
"Oh, well tha's some Twilight nonsense," Bran says, looking at the portal machinery.
Oranna frowns at the nonsense. "Aye."
Shine watches the cave-mouth warily.
"Okay!" Iphi says. She kneels besides the nonsense and plants the mote nearby.
Oranna glances back at Shine, like she's wondering what happened to his eyebrow. And his eye.
As with the ruby seed, the planted mote sprouts abrupt woody tendrils like roots and wraps the portal in a constrictive embrace.
Oranna leaps backwards as the plant eats the nonsense.
Dane slowly backs up, watching the vines encircle and crush the portal. "Back to Calen."
That is a whole lot of plants that grow from that.
It really is.
"So wot did happen to yer eyebrow?" Bran asks. "And yer eye?"
"Orc," Shine says curtly.
Bran nods.
Dane glances over and inspects Shine's eye, only briefly.
"Gouged it out," Shine elaborates.
That's it, that's the story.
"Oh," Oranna says. And then on further information, "Oh." She looks like she's vividly imagining it. "I'm sorry."
Dane grunts. "Returned the favor tenfold, haven't you."
"Until I get my eye back," Shine says blandly.
Dane growls with approval.
Bran makes notes.
"Oh, tha's… " Oranna thinks better of the rest of that sentence.
Iphi looks at him, wondering how it'll get his eye back. She isn't sure how humans work, yet.
Dane lands and marches up to Calen. "We slew every Twilight that crossed our paths."
Calen nods. “You have a talent for killing, I see. In times like these, that has its place.”
Dane nods to Iphindra. "We saw to the closing of that portal as well."
Iphi smiles and nods excitedly. She could handle it!
Calen nods. “Well done. Thank you, mortals.” Calen narrows his eyes. “I will not be so foolish as to let such an oversight happen again.”
"An' we've some of the babies," Oranna says. "Safe an' hopefully sound."
Dane sets down a few of the eggs he collected and nods.
Iphi gives Lirastrasza the eggs she collected. She also has a snail rushing towards her hand.
Lirastrasza says looks to Oranna, “I don't know if you did this for me or the young inside these eggs, but it doesn't really matter, either way it's clear that you want to be an ally of our flight. I appreciate that.”
"It can be both," Oranna says.
Lirastrasza inclines her head. “I cannot forgive the attacks by your allies against my brood, but for now, it seems you have chosen the right side.”
Shine has no comment.
Dane glances at Shine's tactful lack of comment with an equally verbal appreciation.
"Since we've been so helpful," Bran says lightly, "Would ye maybe consider tellin' yer people to aim their fire breath just a weeee bit further away from the lot of us in future?"
"I like my eyebrows an' me hair, an' the Light cannot bring those back," Oranna explains.
You don't want Shine hunting dragon eyebrows.
Calen frowns. "Ah, of course. You must forgive them — they are young and eager to defend the Redoubt."
"Little harder ta help ye if we're piles of ash though," Bran notes.
"Fire is good," Iphi smiles at the others. "It p-promotes growth!"
But not our growth, Iphi. If we are dead of fire.
Oranna looks over discreetly who are we kidding, obviously at Shine, like she's wondering now if he'd get revenge for his other eyebrow if he lost it.
Calen says, “Recent events make it even more apparent that holding up here and making sporadic attacks on Grim Batol isn't enough to keep our kind safe, much less retake Grim Batol. We need to be more aggressive. We need to strike into their heart.”
Shine nods. That's facts.
Bran frowns thoughtfully. His gaze goes a little distant as he thinks of something.
Calen says, “I've agreed to send dragons to the aid of your commanders. They were already hatching a plan to strike at Grim Batol, so you should focus your attention there first.”
Dane grunts and nods slowly.
"Grim Batol… That place is cursed," Oranna mutters.
Calen says, “You should be able to find the mortal known as ‘Mathias Shaw’ in Dragonmaw Pass, in the canyon below us to the south.”
Dane lifts his bushy brows in surprise.
"Oh, Mathias Shaw!" Oranna nods. "Aye, aye, I know him."
Dane eyes Oranna and nods faintly.
"Let's not keep the man waiting, you lot." Dane says.
"Please don't let him tell us a secret we have ta keep," Oranna mutters.
Dane scoffs with amusement. "You know how he gets."
Shine studies these people. Mathias Fucking Shaw, now, is it?
Oranna makes an uncomfortable mmmnnn sound. "Maybe we should have brought some cheese with us…"
Dane eyes Shine and just bounces his eyebrows in semi-exasperation. Yep.
Bran continues to look preoccupied.
They fly south.
Below them Alliance troops clash savagely with Twilight cultists at the base of a narrow mountain pass. Dead and dying litter the stained earth. Atop a nearby rise, Mathias Shaw stands overlooking it all.
"Are you o-okay, Bran?" Iphi asks.
"Hm?" Bran turns to Iphi. "Oh aye, jest… realized I never heard back from a friend who was headin' hearabouts."
Dane briefly looks from Brannagen with intrigue to Mathias Shaw.
Oranna waves hullo to the spymaster of the Alliance.
Shine looks from Oranna to Shaw and back again.
"Lo there, Master Shaw!" says Bran.
Master Mathias Shaw speaks without looking up from the fight. “Hello once again, Cobalt Company. The red dragons have agreed to help! No small feat, I'm sure. You have the thanks of the Alliance.”
"Great!" Iphi smiles.
Shaw nods crisply. “We'd already laid out plans for our ambush on a Twilight caravan by the time the dragons contacted us. They're helping by cutting off their retreat.”
Oranna turns a familiar sniper eye on the field. "Oh, aye…"
Dane looks from the flames to the Twilights.
Bran scans the field quickly with a very different sort of eye from Oranna's.
Mathias finally turns and looks between them. “The battle still rages. You can definitely be of aid. The ambush launched smoothly. Most of the guards are dead, but a few are still pinned down with the wagons.”
Oranna looks more worried than aid-capable, but looks can be deceiving. "I see them, aye," she says, looking through her scope.
“Get in there and clear them out so we can push forward into the canyons,” Shaw tells them.
Dane looks over the ledge, running his tongue along the inside of his lip.
Mathias says, “The gates farther up the pass are shut. Our scouting revealed a stone that they carried in chests in their caravans that they used to open the gates. Get down there and look for a key on the bodies of the guards. When you find it, use it on one of those chests on the caravan wagons and bring the gatestone back to me."
Oranna sweeps her scoping smoothly down to the gate. She nods at the instructions, as she lowers her gun with a slow breath.
Mathias says, “They've grown overconfident. More and more, that seems the downfall of the most powerful armies.”
Dane draws Thunderfury. "Aye, Spymaster. Let's get into the war, you lot."
"We're n-not overconfident! Just confident!" Iphi nods excitedly.
"Well, good news is I'm ne'er confident enough ta be called o'er confident, so we're probably not in danger of it," Oranna says.
Bran chuckles a bit ruefully at Oranna.
"Ye remember her don't ye Red?" Bran says to Atley. "The Wildhammer lass, the archaeologist? Bit of a whirlwend?"
Dane leaps right into the fray to cleave down a number of Twilight Spearwarders. After they fall, he turns to Brannagen. "The Professor… From the field," he says, recalling.
"Aye, she was headed this way, an' I just realized I never found out wha' happened."
"Key," Shine says. He straightens from a body and holds it up.
Dane grunts. "And now have I —" he cuts off and looks to Shine. "Search that chest and secure the Gatestone."
Shine nods once and jogs toward the caravan chest.
Oranna breathes out in slow, metronome-like breaths as she shoots down orc after orc.
Iphi fights the Twilights with her spear. The huge snail munches on the plants in her hair/her hair.
"Stone," Shine reports back to Dane.
"Brelliant," says Bran.
Dane grunts. "You carry it."
Shine nods.
Oranna makes an uncomfortable sound as an arrow whizzes by her head.
Dane addresses Mathias. "We put the bulk of 'em to the sword."
Mathias is wiping blood off of his daggers as they return. “Excellent. Now we can start pushing our ground forces up towards Grim Batol.”
Bran stares at Shaw's daggers, then makes a note in his journal.
"And we've got that stone," Dane adds, gesturing towards Shine, CAREFULLY, with Thunderfury.
Shine shows Shaw the stone. It glows faintly and is tapered at one end.
Mathias says, “Good going.”
Shine hands it over.
Mathias hefts the stone in his hand and smirks. “Doesn't look like much, does it?”
"Glowing seems special," Shine observes dryly.
Dane grunts mildly.
Mathias Shaw says, “The wyrms have already taken the battle to the sky above Grim Batol. It's up to us to move our men in by ground and secure the gates.”
Dane narrows his eyes as he listens.
Oranna's eyes dart to the right, and she clutches her gun to herself briefly. "Aye, aye the… gates. We… we have ta secure the gates," she says, a little breathless, half in memory.
Mathias gives them all a grave look. “I want you to know what is at stake here. Grim Batol is the source of Twilight's Hammer reinforcements to all of the highlands. If we do not cut them off here, we will not win the battles ahead.”
Dane senses PTSD and discreetly glances back at Oranna.
Bran lays a hand very lightly on Oranna's shoulder.
"So… no pressure," Oranna says to Shaw. "Righ'."
Dane looks back to Mathias once he sees Brannagen hand has been deployed.
Mathias says, “I'm sending a squad from Highbank with you. Get to the gate to the southeast and get it open. Your lieutenant should have any further instructions you'll need from there.”
Oranna gives Bran a tight smile. She's been here before, at least.
Iphi senses everyone turning their attention to Oranna. She aromatherapies the place with soothing flowers scents from her hair. Ones that aren't being eaten by the snail on her head.
Oranna looks more startled at the flowers trying to soothe her than the war waging around her.
Aromatherapy failed.
Dane grunts. "Off to that gate, then."
They fight their way through a defensive line of Twilights toward the southeast gate, which already stands open.
Oranna breathes slowly, carefully, forcing a steady trigger finger.
Through the first gate, Highbank troopers come forward to greet the squad, led by a single Lieutenant. "Sir."
Shine sizes up this other lieutenant.
The Highbank Lieutenant says, “I know who you are. I know you know what you’re doing. My orders are to accompany you south through the Dragonmaw Gates towards the entrance of Grim Batol."
"Aye," says Bran.
"Very well, Lieutenant." Dane growls.
Oranna seems disconcerted that this guy knows who she is.
Bran leans over and murmurs to Oranna, "He means Cobalt Company, lass."
"The tabards are like that," Oranna says.
Dane scoffs fondly with amusement.
Bran nods. "The tabard's like a big sign tha' says Big Damn Hero in letters two dwarves high."
The Highbank Lieutenant looks between them. “We're to clear a path so that the rest can follow us. Translation: kill everything that moves, and don't be ashamed if you have a good time doing it.”
Shine nods mildly. He won't, and he will.
The Highbank Lieutenant spits off to the side. “The boys are getting antsy. Let's go.”
Oranna does not look like she's going to have a good time. "Right, probably, aye?"
They make their way up the pass. Squads of Twilight cultists have taken position along the way, and the fighting makes it slow going.
"Riflemen, on the ledge!" Dane warns.
Highbank Lieutenant says: Spread out!
Iphi looks at Bran. "A-are we supposed to have fun doing this?"
To Iphi, Bran answers, "If ye can have fun, I say go for it. Some canna, however."
Oranna is definitely not having fun. But she's also effective, shooting with deadly accuracy.
Iphi looks at her squad members. Are they having fun?
Dane is glaring.
That tells her nothing, Dane.
Bran does not seem to be having fun exactly, but his manner seems relatively lighthearted and casual as he tosses out heals.
One of the Highbank Snipers nods faintly at Oranna's shooting. Nice.
Shine spins around to whip a throwing knife into an approaching orc's neck. He is definitely having fun. Expressionlessly.
So a mixed bag of fun. Iphindra frowns sadly a little, then stabs a cultist with her spear.
Highbank Sniper says: 12 o'clock.
Highbank Marine says: You want some of this?!
Once Wyrms' Bend is cleared of Twilights, the Highbank Lieutenant smirks. “We make it look easy.”
Well yeah, when Cobalt Company is here to do most of the heavy lifting, pal.
Dane jogs up to the gate. "Let's get this opened, then."
Highbank Lieutenant says: Break out the gatestone. Open this thing up.
Highbank Lieutenant says: Squad, you know what to do.
The Highbank squad fans out defensively a little distance in front of the gate as the Lieutenant and Medic approach the gate. Shaw entrusted the Medic with the gatestone at some point. Trust us, it definitely happened.
Highbank Medic says: Er… I don't see a slot to put it in?
Highbank Lieutenant says: It's never easy, is it? That's alright, we came prepared.
Highbank Lieutenant says: Blow it open. There isn't a problem that some explosives can't solve.
Highbank Demolitionist says: On it.
Down the canyon, the cultists are regrouping.
Oranna is pale, and half here, half somewhere else, as they go to open the gate, and then propose explosives.
Dane listens to the Highbank Marines work and looks to his squad. "Lay down some cover."
The cultists charge up the road at them — and then the Alliance group is ambushed from the flanks by more cultists.
Highbank Lieutenant says: Get out of the open!
Oranna blinks heavily, and turns to cover them.
Bran heals everyone as the cultists attack en masse.
Eventually, the gate is blasted open.
The Highbank Lieutenant says, “Like a well-oiled machine.”
"Clockwork," Shine says under his breath.
Bran beams! And gives the lieutenant an extra heal.
Dane grunts and performs a head count. No casualties. Neat.
Oranna is like a well-oiled machine, in that she's covered in sweat and looks like she's functioning on automatic.
The Lieutenant says, “We should find the entrance to Grim Batol just past the next gate. I was ordered to secure the entrance and block off reinforcements while the rest of our men press through the path we've cleared up the canyon.”
Dane grunts, thumbs cinched in his belt.
The Lieutenant says, “Let's get moving — we should find the next gate pretty quickly.”
The pass beyond the gate is lined with Twilight snipers.
"Mind the marksmen, you lot. Keep an even spread," Dane orders.
Oranna follows Dane, shooting orcs like that's what she was made to do.
Highbank Medic says: Enemy here.
The rapid volleys of gunfire from both sides are near deafening in the narrow canyon.
Highbank Marine says: Messy…
The sound of gunfire seems to almost soothe Oranna.
They reach the next gate, which is ajar, and find a familiar figure waiting for them on the other side.
Master Mathias Shaw says: Good work. I'll keep the men pushing from here. Move forward and take the last gate.
How did… Shaw…? Never mind.
Highbank Lieutenant says: Good working with you.
And then Blue Squad is on their own for the final stretch.
This is obviously not a problem for them.
Dane squints as they pass through the final gate to see dragons flying overhead and slain Twilights on the ground.
Shine eyes the dragons overhead warily.
"Dragons handled them alread–" Iphindra gasps at the sight of Alexstrasza.
"There she is…" Bran breathes. He is… not talking about his missing friend.
Dane pauses as they see the shape of a gigantic dragon awaiting them. "She's arrived," he growls.
Bran is so awed he can't even sketch.
"[Oh, that's a dragon,]" Oranna says in Dwarvish.
"[THE Dragon,]" Bran says wryly back to her in Dwarvish.
Calen waits at Alextrasza’s foot. His night elf visage is so tiny compared to the massive form of the Dragon Queen beside him that they almost didn’t notice him.
Calen says, “Welcome, friends. I’m glad you made it. The gate is clear. Once your people finish clearing the canyon, we will speak to your leaders about the next move.”
Oranna blinks at the others, like they're not quiet speaking right. Except for Bran. He's speaking normal.
Dane nods faintly at Calen and removes his helm, raking his hair back with a gauntlet. He steps up to the dragon and bows lowly.
Bran actually gets down on one knee. She's a Big One, all right.
Shine hangs back and gazes up inscrutably at Alexstrasza. He rests a wary hand on a knife-hilt.
Dane side-eyes his comrades and lengthens the bow, perhaps for an example.
Iphindra bows to Alextrasza. "She's beautiful!" she whispers a little too loudly.
Oranna waves up at Alexstraza, the Life-Binder, mother of dragons. Hullo.
Shine nods once. That's it that's what the dragon gets.
Alexstrasza, the Life-Binder herself says, “Hello, mortals. I wish we could meet in more favorable circumstances. The world hangs by a thread, and all that the Titans have wrought may be in jeopardy.”
Dane slowly straightens and peers up at her, squinting in the light.
Alexstrasza looks off into the distance for a moment, “It saddens me greatly, but my judgment is final. Deathwing — the horrific creature that was once the Earth Warder and once my friend — must be destroyed.”
"I'm… sorry fer yer loss, ma'am," Bran says weakly.
Alexstrasza says, “I have prepared a site atop the Highlands, to the west of the Vermillion Redoubt, where I can bring about his end. Seek out the Circle of Life and speak with Lirastrasza within. I will join you there.”
Oranna blinks at her and nods sadly, as if the words are coming at Oranna a bit slow.
Dane sets his jaw and tugs on his helmet. "Consider it done, your Majesty."
"We will do what we can to help!" Iphi nods.
"Mount up!" Dane mutters tersely, as if to shake those who are awed. Probably not Shine.
Oranna dazedly climbs onto her gryphon. Befound rumbles a purr as she gets into her harness.
As they fly up and away, over Grim Batol, Dane grunts. "That's her, then."
Shine nods once again. "Came to the Wrath Gate, didn't she?"
"Aye, and others of her brood," Dane says.
Dane lands on Thoras and inclines his head. "Lirastrasza." he greets.
"Hi Li-lirastrasza!" Iphi greets.
Lirastrasza says, “Hello again, mortals. I hear you were instrumental in our push toward Grim Batol — thank you!”
The cool air from flying seems to have helped Oranna enough that she's a less sweaty oiled machine when she slides off her gryphon and waves again at Lirastrasza.
Lirastrasza says, “Alexstrasza has sanctified this ground in the hopes of luring Deathwing here. She'll perform a ceremony to lure him out… and then destroy him within this sacred circle.”
In the meadow they stand at the edge of, a perfect circle of red and yellow and orange flowers has grown.
Iphi observes the circle of flowers, impressed. Big flowers. As tall as humans.
Dane lifts a brow at that under his helm and looks between his comrades.
Lirastrasza goes still for a moment. “Let's hope her plan works.”
The one-to-two Cressidha tall flowers dwarf Oranna, mostly because she is a dwarf.
"Wot'll you have us do?" Dane asks Lirastrasza.
Lirastrasza gives them a grim look. "Be ready."
Oranna looks around at the flowers. "Here? Now? Today??"
Dane grunts. "Blue Squad, with me."
Shine eyes Lirastrasza like there are so many things he isn't saying. Because there are. He surveys the flower circle.
Iphindra is ready.
Oranna doesn't look ready. In her defense, she virtually never does.
Dane looks between them. "It's happening."
The snail munching on the roots around Iphindra's flowers is ready.
"Flowers," Shine says.
"Flowers!" Iphi emphasizes.
"Here an' now, today? Righ' here? Are we… doesn't it feel like we should have… an army? Two armies? An'… a mountain? Or something?"
Shine tilts his head toward Oranna in mild agreement.
"We're it. Our armies are spread thin. We've killed one Dragon Aspect. We can kill another. If her plan fails, which for one moment I do not believe…" Dane begins.
Oranna clutches SUNBEAM to herself. "This isn't another dream is it? Where it's just us an' all I've got is a firework ta shoot in his eye?"
Shine checks his knives to make sure. He definitely has knives this time.
"We have one another. Deathwing is powerful, but so is she. If it comes to it, I'll get his attention. I want you to harass his eyes with rapid, accurate fire, Oranna. Brannagen, keep us alive. Iphindra, strike at the joints of his legs. Shine — do wot' you can to get on the back of his head. From there, you'll know wot' to do."
"Aye, ser," says Bran.
Oranna nods at Dane. "All right. At least his eyes are the size of people, so it's… somethin'," she mutters.
Shine nods mildly at Dane. "Sir."
Iphindra grows her own circle of flowers. Sunflowers and moonflowers, ready to attack.
Oranna exhales slowly, and swallows hard as she prepares her gun, loading special bullets.
"If this works and it turns out it was flowers the whole time, Rae's going to be pissed," Shine says to no one in particular.
The flowers around Iphindra grow long roots. "I'm ready to m-make him fall!"
"Let's get this done," Dane says.
The Dragon Queen has arrived. She lands in the circle of flowers, and flows down into her elven form.
A familiar night elf approaches from the other side of the circle to join her. Alexstrasza turns to address Blue Squad.
Alexstrasza the Life-Binder says: Mortals, I want you to bear witness to this, but for your own safety stay back. Calen, you too.
Calen says: I will not leave your side.
Alexstrasza the Life-Binder says: Your life isn't yours to throw away, Calen. Should I fail, the fate of this world may rest on your shoulders.
Calen says: Yes, mother.
Calen steps back.
Alexstrasza lifts her hands and begins to channel an almost-musical spell; shining droplets rise from the earth around her, chiming like tiny bells.
Iphi looks starstruck at Alexstrasza's display of power with the magic of life.
Only a few moments go by before the Dragon Queen’s magic is answered. There is a thunderous roar from the distance; not the roar of a creature but a roar like a blaze, and the earth shudders beneath their feet. A scorched and acrid wind blows toward them, and flames rush along the ground below, consuming the trees and the rolling Wetlands hills. Deathwing has come.
The fiery, iron-plated Aspect beats his wings to hover just beyond the edge of the flowery meadow, filling the sky. It’s a little uneasily reminiscent of the way he hovered in Blue Squad’s vision last week.
Dane raises his shield, Thunderfury growling as he waits off to the side, scowling at Deathwing. His eyes roam the giant, battered frame of the dragon, truly taking in the size of it now.
Bran is, to perhaps no one's surprise, frantically writing and sketching in his journal.
Shine steps back from the fiery, armor-plated behemoth, draws both blades, and vanishes into shadow.
Deathwing says: Lifebinder! Do you presume that I am at your beck and call? I have a world to unmake.
Alexstrasza the Life-Binder says: It pains me, Neltharion — but I must end you, as I have ended Malygos.
Oranna doesn't even have time to fire a shot, as Deathweng and the Life-Binder begin to speak.
Dane holds a shield up to her to try and stay her gun, his eyes never leaving Deathwing, his gaze filled with hatred and awe.
Deathwing says: "End" me? Lifebinder, you think life is yours to take away?
Deathwing says: Life is weak, mortal, fleeting … fragile.
Deathwing says: Death is final. Death is eternal. Death is … my realm.
Deathwing says: Look upon me and you see death incarnate, the unmaker of worlds.
Alexstrasza the Life-Binder says: I see the hollow metal shell of a once great ally, and the precious gift of the Titans wasted.
Deathwing says: Then witness my new gifts, bestowed by this world's true masters.
Deathwing exhales a cloud of unnaturally-colored fire, and the far edge of the meadow goes up in flame with a roar. Trees crack and collapse, shriveling to char.
As Deathweng breathes out a whole new scary not-right-colored fire, Oranna cries out, but keeps hold of her gun.
Iphindra looks panicked.
Bran steps back a little but continues sketching.
I mean come on, how often does he get the chance to look at Deathweng THIS CLOSE and not be on fire?
Alexstrasza has already shifted back to her dragon-form and leaped into the air. She surges toward Deathwing, and an aerial battle begins, the wings of the two ancient dragons like hurricanes. The fight carries them tumbling through the sky away from the burning meadow, toward the north.
For the second time today Shine can be heard to say "Fuck." He can't be seen to say it, though.
Calen says: Don't let them out of sight! Quickly — come with me!
Dane shakes his head and looks to Calen, sprinting over. "Wot' do we need to do?"
Shine reappears a step behind Dane, gaze grim on Calen.
Calen cries out, “Alexstrasza and Deathwing have taken into the skies over Grim Batol! Her plan unravels — the Dragon Queen is outside the Circle of Life she prepared earlier. We'll need to support her with everything we've got!”
Oranna looks at Calen, and looks at her gun, and looks back at Calen. "I've got… a gun," she says weakly.
Calen says, “Hurry! Climb aboard one of the Vermillion Vanguard behind me. If we find any Twilight Drakes aiding Deathwing, we will need to kill them off. Mount up, quickly, please! The battle continues!”
"She's wond-wonderful!" Iphi says. "We have to hu-hurry!"
"You heard the dragon, you lot," Dane says. "Pick a drake and mount up."
Shine heads for a dragon, unhesitating now.
Bran reluctantly tucks away his sketchbook and heads toward the nearest drake.
Oranna takes deep breaths as she takes her gun, and herself, everything she's got, and makes her way to a dragon. Befound leaps onto a dragon. SHE IS READY. POINT HER AT HIM, SHE'LL BITE DEATHWING'S BONY ANKLES.
Dane casually marches up to a Vermillion Vanguard and climbs aboard. He waits, inspecting his squad mates.
"Stay together!" Dane calls out, drawing Thunderfury, but keeping his shield on his back.
"Ready!" Bran says.
Iphindra and the snail are ready.
Oranna clambers awkwardly up onto a drake. "Wait, there's no… there's no reins or handles or… how am I supposed ta — " Her dragon leaps up into the sky. "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA," Oranna remarks.
"WOO HOO!" Bran remarks.
Shine remarks nothing.
Dane sympathizes with Oranna's concern, and grips onto a dragon spike. He grits his teeth, eyes narrowed, and could be glaring or smirking with violent intentions.
Iphindra giggles a little, but she's too worried for Alexstrasza to full-on giggle. She seems perfectly fine riding the dragon.
Bran tries to sketch while in flight, nearly falls off his drake, and decides maybe now is not the time.
Dane glances back on his drake to check on the others.
Bran gives Atley a thumbs-up.
They find Alexstrasza and Deathwing dueling atop the peak of Grim Batol. Swarms of Red Dragons and Twilight Dragons clash in the air around them.
Oranna manages to get an arm around the bony part of the drake, holding her gun on her shoulder. Is this going to work? Who knows.
Dane points Thunderfury at a cluster of Twilight Drakes. "PUNCH A HOLE!"
Blue Squad breaks through, Twilight Drakes falling lifeless in their wake, and close in on Alexstrasza and Deathwing.
What they will do when they get there, this editor does not know.
Alexstrasza the Life-Binder says: Neltharion! Look at yourself. Misshapen. Twisted. You're coming apart.
Deathwing says: Just as all life ends in death … all order must end in chaos … Come! Embrace the inevitable, as I have!
Deathwing seizes Alexstrasza, locking her in a deadly embrace, and the pair plummets from the narrow mountain peak to drop toward the chasm far below.
Shine whips his head around sharply as the pair of Aspects tumble from the mountaintop.
It's probably fortunate Bran was not holding his sketchbook when that happened, or he'd have dropped it some number of feet. Probably 10,000.
Calen and Blue Squad on their red dragon mounts go in pursuit. They spot Alexstrasza lying — in her elven form once more — at the center of her flower ring in the meadow they only recently abandoned. She is sprawled like a flung ragdoll in the grass. There is no sign of Deathwing, whose fall evidently continued unbroken all the way past the cliff’s edge to the canyon floor far below.
Calen lands and shifts at once to night elf form, sprinting to kneel at his mother’s side.
Alexstrasza the Life-Binder says: The Earth Warder… he is dead.
Calen says: Mother, stay still. Your wounds are great.
Dane stares at the cliff as Calen and Alexstrasza speak. His gaze is hard, jaw set in furious disbelief.
Oranna doesn't look like she trusts the quiet at all.
Alexstrasza the Life-Binder says: The black aspect's blood is cursed. Wherever it was shed — nothing will grow for ten thousand years.
Alexstrasza the Life-Binder says: But it is over. We can work now to bottle up the horrors he has unleashed.
Hey guess what?
The roar rises again and the sky beyond the cliff fills with flame. An extremely not dead Deathwing rises with slow wingbeats to hover above them once more.
Calen says: Deathwing — he lives!
Alexstrasza the Life-Binder says: Impossible!
Dane growls. "Stay sharp." Now he takes out his shield.
Shine is always sharp. It's knives. He draws them again and fades back.
Oranna's horror is muted, as if she expected the worst, and now…
Iphindra is by Alexstrasza's side, trying to heal her.
Bran for once seems so absorbed by what's happening that he can't even think of preserving it in any way for The Record.
Deathwing says: The sun has set on this mortal world, fools. Make peace with your end, for the hour of Twilight falls.
Calen says: Mortals, take the Dragon Queen! Carry her to safety. Now! RUN! Get her away from here!
Dane works his jaw, grinding his teeth as he listens to Calen. He glares at their dragon friend before he remounts his drake, reaching a hand out toward Alexstrasza.
Shine has reappeared at the Life-Binder’s side to wordlessly aid Calen in getting her to her feet. He fits her arm around his shoulders to support her at a stumbling run toward Dane.
Dane spots Shine assisting the Dragon Queen and performs a small double take despite the urgent circumstances. He studies the Marine for a moment before nodding, then reaches down to tug Alexstrasza upon his drake with a grunt. "Remount! Move!"
Bran moves, eyes scanning the landscape and sky even as he does so.
Calen says: I will delay the Aspect of Death. Take her to safety. GO!
Alexstrasza the Life-Binder says: Calen, no!
Calen shifts, and now a much smaller red dragon faces down the vast, fiery Aspect of Death.
"No!" Iphindra says as she's being dragged by her dragon, looking at Calen put himself in danger.
The squad’s drakes carry them back to the top of the pass above the gates, and land to deposit their mortal cargo. They depart bearing their wounded queen.
Oranna hugs her arms around herself, looking shell shocked. Befound's fur is 2x its usual size, as she presses firmly against Oranna.
Shine says nothing but stands gazing in the direction the red drakes flew.
Bran is quiet and thoughtful. His hood blew back during the flight, and his hair is now in disarray, looking like a red dragon might be breathing from his head.
Dane is breathing heavily. He visibly, consciously forces himself to calm.
Despite all odds, Calen has somehow managed to survive, and awaits them.
This is never explained. I guess he just so fast an wily.
Shine doubletakes Calen.
"He's alive!" Bran gasps.
"Calen! You are okay!" Iphindra's eyes are wet, her ears drooped, and a bunch of flowers on her head are dead. All for nothing. The snail eats dead flowers.
Calen says, “Thanks to your quick action, the Dragon Queen still lives. She is being brought back to Wyrmrest to recover. And the battle wasn't a complete failure. Deathwing was gravely wounded. I suspect he will go into hiding to recuperate. Alexstrasza has bought us time to strike!”
Oranna looks around them like she's expecting to wake up any second now in another bubble. "Where's the bubble?" she asks dazedly.
"This is real," Dane reminds Oranna sternly, and perhaps himself.
Calen says, “With Deathwing otherwise occupied, we have a grim and daunting task ahead of us, under charge of the queen herself: The black dragonflight is to be wiped out. I would welcome your aid in this, if it is offered. As soon as you are ready, I will send you with the next flight joining the attack.”
Dane looks to his squad at 'wiped out' before he returns his harsh gaze to Calen.
Shine nods without even checking with his commander. He's ready to join the attack.
"The… the whole flight…?" Bran murmurs.
"It's over. It's been too much," Dane growls, with a tired sympathy. "If this is wot' it takes, we'll see that it's done."
Iphindra is silent. Leaves fall from her head and onto the floor.
Oranna looks like she really, really wishes this fight wasn't real. "So now we jus'… throw whatever we have left? Anyone have a kitchen sink on them?" she mutters.
Bran chuckles.
"That's right," Dane growls with determination as more drakes come to collect them.
"They canna' have me books," Bran says firmly, drawing a line.
They fly south, out of the mountains and back toward the familiar forests and meadows of the highlands. They briefly pass by another dragon battle between the reds and the Twilights, but this is not their charge now.
Oranna clings unhappily to her drake, one eye squeezed shut, the other open.
They land at the edge of a ruined swath of charred forest. The ground is black ash and the trees barren black spikes.
Lirastrasza seems to have been waiting for them. “It seems you are still with us. I'm somewhat appreciative of that…” She hesitates before tipping her head. “Thank you.”
Oranna nods wearily at Lirastrasza as she rolls off the drake to the ground, dusting her tabard off. "Yer welcome?"
"Thank you too." Iphindra bows.
Lirastrasza says, "We've long held out hope of redeeming the Earthwarden and his children. At some point, we must have the wisdom to realize that no amount of redemption can atone for the destruction these dragons are unleashing upon the world. At some point, we are forced to intervene."
Dane eyes Lirastrasza up and down before he nods once.
Lirastrasza says, “The Obsidian wyrmkin litter the landscape to our south. They're in no position to push back against us, but one can never tell what new threats the ebb of battle may bring.” She glares. “I want you to take the fight to the wyrmkin. Clear them out so that we may proceed with purging this land of the polluting presence of the black dragonflight.”
Sintha would appreciate that artful alliteration.
"Ah, purgin' this land, aye," Bran says, nodding, seeming to agree with that much.
"An' buy us 10,000 years, I guess," Oranna says.
Dane turns to thoughtfully regard the battlefield ahead and listens.
Lirastrasza says, “The Twilight Drakehunters used vicious implements to drag our circling drakes from the sky. Hooks that buried into their scales and held the Twilight secure while they brought our kin to the ground.” She snarls, and smoke trails from her nostrils. “We are past the point of peace. Past hope for their redemption. The only mercy we have left to offer the black flight is the oblivion that they so passionately pursue.”
Bran closes his mouth firmly, obviously to keep words from coming out of it.
Dane turns to side-eye Lirastrasza in her intensity.
Iphindra holds her elbows tightly. The snail uses it as a bridge.
Oranna sighs heavily.
Lirastrasza gestures to tools nearby on the ground. “Use these hooks to slay the Obsidian Pyrewings to the south. They should allow you much maneuverability in the air if used right.”
Velastrasza hails Blue Squad. “Mortals, a moment.”
Befound sniffs at a flower, and sneezes.
Dane turns to look past Lirastrasza to this more amiable dragon.
Velastrasza says, “The great petrified tree that lies before us to the south was once a beacon of great life. Our beacon. We lost this forest to the black flight, and it has since been corrupted and petrified. Nearly unredeemable.”
"Nearly?" Iphi asks, hopeful.
Dane looks from Velastrasza to Iphindra.
Velastrasza nods and smiles faintly. “But all is not without hope. I've brought a powerful tool to begin the healing process. The tree may still be saved, with much time and fortune, and with perhaps a little effort from you.”
Iphi holds her hand open to take the tool. Gimme.
Velastrasza offers something to Iphindra. “Bring this, Alexstrasza's Tear, and use it within the hollowed heart of the tree. The black flight may never be redeemed, but in the wake of all of their destruction, there is always hope for life anew.”
"I will!" Iphindra holds Alexstrasza's tear close to her heart. The snail eyes it oddly. Food?
Dane reaches down to grab a hook. "Let's get to it, you lot. It ends — now."
Oranna tiredly gathers up her things and her thengs, and follows.
Dane doubletakes the snail, noticing it at last. "Wot' the f– Where'd that come from, then?"
"That's Alexstrasza's Te– Oh!" Iphi sees he's looking at the snail. "When I ju-jumped to avoid the fire from that dragon, when we were collecting eggs!" Her hair is a mess. That snail did eat a little bit of it as it ate some of the plants growing in it.
Dane just grunts.
Dane also warily examines the obsidium trees that they pass. "We plant the Tear first."
Oranna looks over at the water. "Tha'… water doesna look right," she says.
"Aye, let's steer clear of et," says Bran.
"This place is accursed. Stay sharp," Dane says.
Shine is sharp. He is already moving through shadows to cut down wyrmkin. Life magic is not his department.
Iphi kneels and plants the tear inside the petrified tree.
A drop of water falls from the sky and grows dozens of flowers, like Alexstrasza did. Iphi sheds her own tear at that.
"Well done, lass," says Bran to Iphi.
Dane takes a step back to see the seed already blossoming. He eyes Iphindra and nods. "Hope for this place yet, then. Let's clear the skies." Dane growls.
Dane produces his chain hook and starts swinging it, eyeing a passing black drake. He flings it high and manages to snag one — and get promptly yanked off his feet. He stubbornly tugs himself up the chain and starts to slice the dragon to death with Thunderfury.
The drake Dane's atop of weakens, its wings slowing. Just before it crashes head-on into a stone pillar, he leaps to another victim with a growl of exertion.
"Back to the reds," Dane says.
"We brought a number of them down." Dane explains proudly.
Lirastrasza says, “You seem to have made use of the disturbing implements with ease.”
Lirastrasza sighs. It sounds like the ebbing of a furnace. “I take solace in knowing that some tools of evil can ultimately still lead to safeguarding life. Nothing is without purpose.”
Iphindra shrugs. Some things are without purpose, and that's okay.
Dane looks to Velastrasza. "The seed's been planted as well."
"It was!" Iphindra says, beaming, her eyes still teary.
Velastrasza says, “You've started a wonderful thing this day, amidst all of this blood shed. It may take many years, but this ravaged land will be restored. It will be beautiful again.”
Bran nods with satisfaction.
"Lot of things aren't black an' white, an' it's how ye do and yer intent, an' new things can come out of the bad," Oranna agrees.
Lirastrasza says, “In the southwestern portion of the Obsidian Forest, you will find some of the black egg clutches. Many of the eggs can be hatched at any time with a bit of prodding from the right flame, and as the whelplings hatch, they will cry out and flock for their mother.”
Dane lifts a bushy brow.
Oranna frowns, but nods.
Iphindra already brings a hand to her mouth, guessing where this is going.
Lirastrasza shakes her head. “Do not worry, if this purging is to be taken to the whelps, that is not a task that I will force on you. I simply want you to let them out and follow them home as they seek their mother. It is she who we must confront. No black dragon capable of breeding can be left alive.”
Iphi guessed wrong. She sighs with relief.
Dane nods. "Very well."
Oranna nods. "Aye, that's the way ta cull any animal population," she says.
"We're due south, you lot." Dane says, mounting on Thoras.
Oranna looks north-east. "Aye, south."
Oranna reorients as everyone else takes off south.
"Eggs, here. Wake them up," Dane seems to say to Oranna and Iphindra.
Oranna carefully applies the flame to the eggs.
Iphi imitates Oranna with the flame.
The eggs hatch. Dane jogs alongside them, eyeing the hatchlings with a glare.
Oranna has no trouble tracking the whelps, in whatever cardinal direction they go.
Bran, shocking everyone, sketches them.
The flock of screeching black whelplings leads them west to a cave in the cliff face. The cave opens into a broad downward slope, littered with bones.
Oranna briefly eyes the gigantic skeletons they pass.
"This lair's old. Must be from before the Second War," Dane says.
Bran briefly sketches the gigantic skeletons they pass.
"They've been eatin'… other dragons," Oranna mutters in horror.
Dane squints at Oranna before he inspects a skeleton and scoffs with disgust.
Bran frowns, but sketches the carnage.
Oranna points up at the dragon skull.
Iphindra doesn't seem very fazed by that. "I didn't know d-dragons did that."
"They shouldn't," Oranna tells Iphindra. "There's somethin' very wrong with these ones."
Shine does not point out that dragons are assholes.
"Hmm…" Iphindra is a little fazed by what Oranna just said.
At the bottom of the slope, they find themselves in a vast stone cavern.
Baleflame awaits them. “Lirastraza sent me ahead to the lair, suspecting the black dragon we are seeking may still be here. Judging by the hatchlings, it seems she was not mistaken.”
Dane grunts at Baleflame.
Baleflame says, “Obsidia is one of the last mature dragons that can continue the black dragonflight bloodline. She must be killed.”
Dane nods. "We can kill that dragon."
Oranna nods with a sigh. "Aye, I understand why."
Baleflame says. “If you succeed in killing her, you should inform Lirastrasza immediately of your victory. She's been fighting a long time to see this done.” He eyes them all for a moment. “Thank you for being our fang in these battles. You've proven a powerful ally.”
Befound preens. Yes! That's right! Her fangs have been the best fangs of all the fangs involved.
Dane looks from Baleflame to his squad. "Our world as well. We'll fight for it."
Befound yawns to show off her teeth.
The snail shows its teeth. Ready for a fight.
"Get ready. Same plan as 'fore. Shine, on the head. Oranna, the eyes. Iphindra, put that spear to the joints. Brannagen, keep us alive. I'll keep its attention," Dane says.
Obsidia yells: Baleflame! Your tender flesh shall be an appropriate meal for my whelps!
A black dragon female emerges from the darkness at the far end of the cavern, her eyes alight with a mad fury.
Obsidia yells: Come, my children! Awaken and feast upon their flesh!
This is not what happens.
Obsidia yells: No! My clutch is the last…! Father… I've failed you…
As Obsidia yells, Dane whistles for Thoras.
"Let us report back," Dane says.
As they fly, Dane does turn to inspect everyone on their mounts.
Oranna clings to hers like it's life or death. Which, if Bran doesn't get a levitate off fast enough should she fall, it would be.
Once they land, Dane immediately and bluntly explains. "Obsidia is dead."
Lirastrasza says, “You killed Obsidia within her own lair? Impressive, mortals. I'm sorry that I could not be there.”
Dane grunts.
Bran frowns slightly.
Lirastrasza inclines her head. “You're true to your word, and you most certainly have the bite to back your bellow. Thank you, once again.”
Iphi smiles at Lirastrasza.
Befound shows Lirastrasza her teeth. Teeeeeeeeth.
Bran mutters in Dwarven, very quietly, [For Life dragons they sure seem ta take pleasure in death…]
Lirastrasza says, “You've more than proved your intent and your abilities. With Grim Batol cut off and the black dragons routed, the Twilight's Hammer are cornered in their Citadel. Go to your leaders. You should find them northwest, at a camp called Victors' Point. Let them know that when the attack on the Twilight Citadel begins, the red flight shall fill the skies above. You may not be able to atone for all of the sins your allies have committed, but in this one battle, we shall be by your side.”
Dane knits his brow, but its mostly obscured underneath his helmet.
Oranna frowns, but she nods.
Shine has questions about the sins his allies have committed, and a list of sins red dragons have committed. He saves them both.
"We'll make for the camp, swiftly," Dane confirms.
Lirastrasza says, “The Twilight's Hammer will fall.”
"But in the bad way, aye? Not in th' like, the hammer comes down successfully fall," Oranna says nervously.
"Very good question," Bran notes.
Iphindra approves of the question.
"In a bad way," Lirastrasza confirms. "For them."
Oranna nods, although she still looks worried. Phrasing, man.
THE TWILIGHT'S HAMMER WILL FALL is 100% one of their slogans.
They fly north and find a newish-looking military encampment near the river, at the foot of the mountains where the Twilight’s Hammer are building their spire.
Dane the Red lands and looks around Victor's Point before he spots Kurdran Wildhammer, completely ignoring the Victor's Point Captain.
"Gentlemen." Dane growls, saluting.
Bran cheerfully salutes Kurdran.
Iphi salutes as well.
Oranna waves tiredly at Kurdran. Hullo…
"We've returned from slaying the last black dragon brood mother in the region, and Grim Batol's been cut off." Dane explains grimly.
Kurdran Fucking Wildhammer says, “So I hear. You've done well, Cobalt Company. We're in the process of preparing the attack now. It’ll take some time, but stay at the ready. We’re countin’ on ye.” He nods. “Spend time with your loved ones in the meanwhile, if ‘yer able. This won’t be easy.”
Dane cracks off a salute before he grunts at his comrades and nods off to the side.
Iphindra salutes Kurdran. She will!
Oranna looks stricken. "My… my loved ones…" She looks over at the others.
Iphi smiles at Oranna. "You can spend t-time with us if you want!"
"That's us, Boomer," says Bran. "We love ye."
Dane briefly eyes Oranna before he looks between them all. "Long, hard day, but triumphant. We're winning. You lot are dismissed."
"It's jus'… that feels very final, an' very… like a last meal," Oranna says.
Dane opens his mouth, but pauses. "It sounds dangerous. But we've faced danger down before, haven't we. Make the most of the time we have until they're ready to strike."
"I feel like if I tell my loved ones that they all need ta come see me one last time, I'm going ta give them all gray hairs, an' mess up a few human's age markers," Oranna mutters.
"Dinna fash, lass, this en't our last anythin'" says Bran with a confident, warm smile.
She's fashing, Bran. She always fashes.
Iphi smiles. "We'll be fine! We defeated many odds today!"
Dane sets a hand on Iphindra's shoulder and gives her a shake.
Iphi is shaken by Dane. It looks like he put in a lot more force in that move than he did. She may have overreacted a little.
"I'm going ta… lie down. An'… lie down," Oranna says, waving at the others as she wanders off to activate her hearthstone.
"Farewell, 'Ranna," Dane says, watching her and Befound.
"Bye, Oranna!" Iphindra waves.
"Another mate of yours, then," Dane asks, looking to the snail.
"Not a mate!" Iphindra looks at him, shocked. "Just a friend. I'll find some good place for him today, before I go rest!"
Dane scoffs with amusement at Iphindra. "Very well, and see that you do."
Iphi smiles. She asks for a guard to come with her and they move towards gryphons.