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| Details |
| Author: | Alli |
| Summary: | Blue Squad heads down to help at the border of the Krasarang Wilds, and ends up pulled up into an unexpected kaldorei expedition. Oranna is skeptical, and Befound is hungry. Florande was immortal as a tween. Bran's curiosity knows no danger. Atley is great at smashing things. Shine is silently effective, and Bun is leaning into adventure. ~7800 words |
| Rating: | T for Teen |
Atley marches into the Thunderfoot Inn, helmet tucked under his arm. "Hullo', you lot."
Oranna waves hello to the others, fixing the last of her braid. "Hullo."
Florande hastily scrambles to her feet from the stool. "Hello, you lot back!"
"Lo there!" Bran calls cheerfully. Shine nods.
"All squared away, are we?" Atley asks, marching forward, sizing each of them up.
"I am square," Florande nods, and then looks down at herself. "Not literally."
Bran's beard braid has also been fixed, apparently. That is to say, it isn't a frayed disaster.
Befound stretches out in front of Dane. Yes, she is squared away and ready for murder. It's a day that ends in Y.
Bun is ready for adventure!
"We're making for Zhu's Watch. See wot' else in the area needs doing," Atley says, tugging his helmet on.
Florande nods eagerly. "I hope the sha have not gotten into them again."
Oranna nods. "Oh, aye. It was raining last I saw."
Atley grunts. "Let's make certain."
Bran sighs, but he remains perky. He has apparently not been re-inflitrated.
Oranna pats her bag to make sure a Ken-Ken mask is in it.
Atley jogs over to the flight master and arranges a kite flight.
Bran and Shine follow Atley. Bun follows Shine.
Oranna clings to her kite like it's a death trap. Befound paddles in the air. Wheeeeee.
Atley squints up at the rainy sky and looks to Oranna with a nod.
Oranna winces as they hit the sudden wall of rain.
Florande tosses her head a little to get the water out of her eyes. She seems otherwise unconcerned about the damage her leather might take.
Bran frowns and tucks his journal away safe and dry.
Atley marches up the steps and spots Mei Barrelbottom, raising a hand. "Hail." No, Dane, rain.
“Oh, good, you’re here.” Mei beams.
Florande nods earnestly, looking at Mei.
Atley knits his brow under his helmet as the downpour continues to ping off his armor.
Oranna looks up in case it's turned to hail. Nope, still rain.
Shine endures the rain impassively.
Mei’s smile fades a little and she glances guiltily toward the village center. “I know you’re guests here and after all you’ve done for us it seems rude to ask for favors, but… Yi-Mo and the other wardens have been working so hard to put everything back to rights, and I thought… perhaps you would be willing to lend them a hand?” She looks a little nervous.
Atley shakes his head, but in the affirmative. "F'course. Wot' needs doing?"
"O' course!" Bran says warmly.
"If it'll keep the place from getting re-sha-ed," Oranna agrees.
Mei nods, relieved. “The first problem is — you remember the saurok you recovered the pigment from last week? They haven’t stopped their raids on the village. Yi-Mo and the wardens are holding them off at night, but they’re too occupied with their other tasks to chase off into the borderlands themselves. Can you go and deliver a message to the saurok? One that will… discourage them from returning?”
Atley scoffs with amusement and surveys his squad. "We're cut out for it."
"Aye we specialize in those sorts o' messages," Bran says, cracking his blue-gloved knuckles."
"Discourage from returning," Florande says with a sharptoothed smile.
Oranna narrows her eyes skeptically. Befound unsheathes her claws. She's great at writing messages, Oranna, leave it to her.
Bran grins at Florande.
Florande grins back.
Bun will sort them out, Bun's demeanor heavily implies.
"They're not really verbal so, we'll, uh — " Oranna looks around at the others. Oh, everyone's already gotten there.
“Also, if you wouldn’t mind — we maintain bonfires at the border to discourage the wild beasts from approaching the village too closely. It is a tradition begun by our founder, and a memorial to our way of life here,” Mei says, “But I fear that with all of the rain and the wardens’ preoccupation, the bonfires to the southwest might have gone out. Would you be willing to check on the fires, and rekindle them if they have?”
Atley nods once. "We'll see to it."
"Fires do not do great with rain," Florande nods seriously.
"Aye, wet conditions make it hard to get hot," Oranna says, not necessarily hearing how that sounds.
"We'll make for the bonfires first, you lot. Then the sauroks," Atley says, squinting out through the sheets of rain.
Bran mounts up on Brann the Ram, whose name continues not to be confusing.
Florande nods at Oranna's words. That makes perfect sense and sounds very reasonable. Florande turns into a deer.
Atley pulls Hal'vyr to a stop and nods at a Memorial. "That's it then, I warrant."
"It's not burning," Florande observes.
Atley reaches for Thunderfury before he pauses and looks to Oranna. "Have you got something on you to ignite it?"
"Oh, but they've used stone, that's a good start. Maybe some oil to get it going better, aye," Oranna says, taking out a little oil. "Oil fires can't be put out by water."
"Good thenkin'," Bran says with a nod.
Atley inclines his head. "Very well. Others ought not be far." He briefly squints int the jungle before looking around.
"Does the stone burn better when it's wet?" Florande asks Oranna.
"It's a good way to keep a memorial, with stone," Oranna observes. "The stone keeps it from spreading, more than anythin',"
Bran blinks at Florande. Those were certainly words, in an order.
Atley grunts. "Now for the sauroks."
"Oh, so it holds the oil in place," Florande says, looking at the blaze.
"But, aye, if you have a good mound, and can keep it hot, it does nae matter how wet it gets with the right oil," Oranna adds.
Even Bran hears that one.
Oranna does not.
Atley narrows his eyes at the words spoken and briefly side-eyes Oranna, but says nothing.
Shine remains impassive, so it's hard to say if he caught that one.
Befound catches it, because nothing goes over her head, her reflexes are too fast.
"That is useful to know, for traveling in the forest," Florande says. "I have only ever used wood."
"Oh, aye. I've done both," Oranna says.
Bran gets his Bonking Stick ready as they enter the cave the saurok are squatting in.
Atley looks around. "They've replenished their numbers."
"Or there were more than we thought," Florande says, looking around the full-again cave.
Atley grunts.
Oranna readies SUNBEAM. "I dinnae think they only live out here. I think given the weather, it's likely they have somewhere deeper underground, ta stay warm."
"They seem the sort for that," Atley says.
Bran bonks some scaly heads.
"I just hope they're nae like troggs," Oranna mutters. "There's enough troggs for two continents already."
Atley grunts. "Message delivered. Let's return."
A nearby saurok dies mysteriously and bloodily before it can reach Atley - Shine hard at work in the shadows.
"I wonder if there are volcanoes on Pandaria," Florande asks, putting a hand to the stone ground to check for warmth. It is not a hot stone.
"Why do ye ask, Cub?" says Bran.
"For warm caves for the saurok," Florande explains. "If it gets warmer deeper in."
"I dinna think there are nearby, but possibly elsewhere," Bran muses.
Atley grunts.
Mei looks over at the team hopefully.
Oranna eyes the ground curiously. "Surely they've had ta have one at some point, e'en if its dormant now, aye?"
"I wonder if that's where they had the whole 'five suns' from. If some of the 'suns' were volcanoes eruptin'," Oranna muses.
"Ms. Barrelbottom," Atley says with a nod. "We've delivered the message and reignited the bonfires at the border."
"They might be back later on," Bran says, "but if so ye can just send word to Cobalt an' we'll come back an' clear the cave out again. They seem ta have just the one spot they like ta hole up in."
Mei smiles. “Thank you, friends. Zhu Province serves as a corridor from the upper tier of the valley down to the sea. Keeping the province safe requires daily effort to maintain the border against the savage Krasarang Wilds.” Mei gazes southward for a moment, and then frowns thoughtfully. “Deep in the wilds, on the southern coast where the river meets the sea, rests the Temple of the Red Crane, home of the great Chi-Ji and his most devout followers. They should be told of what happened here — of the spread of the sha. And if you are willing to carry that message, while you are headed there — we often send supplies to the temple, but our last courier has not returned. Please look for signs of him as you travel? Where the road forks at the Dojani River, he would have gone south.”
Oranna looks to the northwest, squinting. "Aye, south…"
"Easily done!" says Bran. "Dinna fash."
Bran gently turns Oranna pointing south.
"Aye, south," Oranna repeats, more confidently.
"Very well. We'll venture that way, then," Atley says.
"Dojani River," Florande repeats.
“When you reach the temple, find Koro Mistwalker.” Mei bows respectfully. “Thank you, friends.”
"There are a number of beasts in the wild from wot' we've seen," Atley says, looking to Oranna and Befound. "Keep an eye out for tracks."
Oranna nods. "Aye."
Atley nods briefly with approval upon witnessing the flames persisting.
"This is a place pandaren think of as dangerous," Florande observes. "Up till now, we have been in their safe villages and things."
Atley grunts and nods. "Another ruin. Mogu."
Oranna squints through the brush. "Aye, but that can mean a lot o' different things ta different people. A river's dangerous if ye cannae swim, but to another, it's just a good fishin' spot."
A ghostly voice ripples through the minds of the group. Alliance members? Here? Elune be praised!
Atley tugs Hal'vyr to an immediate stop.
Atley swings his head around to examine the others.
Florande turns quickly into a panther and growls.
"What the…?" Bran blinks.
Shine remains impassive.
My team has encountered a snag. We opened a portal to this land using some ancient scrolls we had found that predated Azshara's rule.
Oranna grabs at her head, looking pale. "D-did everyone else hear a voice in their — " She looks at the others and sags with relief. "Oh, good, nae just me then."
Bran gently pats Oranna.
Florande turns into an elf and nods nods nods, looking around.
Unfortunately, the coordinates provided on the tablets were warded and the portal that meant to take us to our destination landed us in this oubliette.
We have been trapped here for days, and it is slowly leaching our energies to power itself.
"Ach! Oubliettes are nae fun," Bran says, as though he has experienced many oubliettes and sympathizes.
Atley looks around, frowning.
Can you find the nearby shackles that bind the oubliette and disable them?
Oranna looks genuinely horrified, as she starts scanning around the area as well.
Atley nods, and is quiet for a long moment before he says out oud, "Aye, we'll find it."
"I do not know if they can hear us?" Florande says, looking around. "But I will think hard that we will help them?"
"Well, that's a big purple thing, an' that's usually nae a natural thing, so…" Oranna starts.
"Looks arcane in nature, at a glance," Bran murmurs, and takes out his journal for notes now that they aren't under sheets of rain.
At the side of the path is a pandaren, draped over a tiger. They seem to have slain one another.
"Bloody fortunate to have us stumble across them," Atley says before spotting the Zhu's Watch Courier.
"Oh no," Oranna says as they come across a pandaren and a tiger. "Oh, Bran? Can ye — ?"
Bran belatedly notices the dead guy. Bran tries a resurrection on the pandaren, then shakes his head.
"Died fighting, at the least." Atley steps forward to casaully start patting down the Zhu's Watch Courier.
"I thenk we were a bit too late, more's the pity," Bran says. "He's moved along."
"Oh no!" Florande says. "Is this… the courier she asked us to find?"
Atley grunts and nods slowly, holding up a discovered supply satchel. "Must be."
Oranna sighs heavily at both losses, putting a hand on the poor tiger and the pandaren.
"We can make sure it gets to destination," Florande says, looking at Dane.
Befound deliberately faces another direction from the others, watching the trees. Take note, Apprentice Bun. A tiger pounces when its prey turns away.
Bun takes notice.
Atley turns to peer at the oubilette when he spots another pandaren farther down the road. "Hullo'," Atley says, looking to Kang Bramblestaff. "I remember you from Pang's Homestead."
"Lo there!" Bran says amiably. Shine nods.
“Oh, hey,” says Kang. “I was searching for the Hidden Master when I came across this big purple thing with a bunch of little purple things inside. Looks like an old mogu magic trap.”
Florande peers inside. The little purple things are night elves. "Can you break it open?" Florande asks.
"They're night elves, of the Alliance. Our comrades," Atley explains.
Bran sketches and takes notes.
Oranna is very obviously worrying about them as she keeps back from the possible arcane jello mould.
"Ah, I'm sorry to hear that." Kang peers through the iridescent bubble at the tents and figures on the other side. “I’ve punched it, kicked it, smacked it, thwacked it. Nothing seems to break it. Once the trap is sprung, no one gets in or out until the people trapped inside are completely drained of life. Mogu are evil.”
Florande's eyes widen. "It's going to kill them!?"
Bran tries bonking it with his stick. Alas.
"There's got ta be something, right?" Oranna tries. "That ghostly voice said that there were chains, so…"
Atley glares at the frozen night elves. "Search the perimeter. Look for those shackles."
"Is that a shackle?" Florande peers at a floating gem.
"Let's poke it!" Bran says.
Atley examines the floating gem, drawing Thunderfury. "Let's find out." He proceeds to smash the shackle to smithereens.
Oranna is looking for shackles, not glowing gems. "Oh uh…. well, I dinnae know, maybe we should leave it alone — " Oranna says as Dane smashes it.
Bran sighs.
Florande nods. After a moment, she says, "It was very unwise, them using the portal at all."
Atley looks back to the shield and shakes his head. "May've done nothing. May've not been the only one, either. Let's move."
"Oh! Tha' did sommat!" Oranna says with surprise and relief as the broken gem weakens the barrier.
"Lemme sketch the next one, Red," says Bran. Then adds as an afterthought, "Ser."
"Right," Atley says.
Bran takes the time to fully sketch and make notes on the odd device this time, then nods to Atley.
Atley pulverizes the second shackle.
"Can I hit the next one with a stick?" Bran asks cheerfully. "Fer science."
"It's still up," Florande peers at the shield. "There must be at least one more."
Atley grunts.
Oranna gives the dome a very wide berth.
"One here for bonking?" Florande points.
Atley grunts.
"Reminds me of a jello my great-aunt used ta make," Oranna mutters, looking into the dome.
Bran has a go at this one like it's filled with candy. It does shatter, though not as spectacularly as it did when Dane hit it.
Bran makes notes.
Atley turns as the shield fades. "There we are, then."
"Woo hoo!" Bran says.
"Oh!" Florande claps her hands.
Atley nods at the incursion huntress and jogs towards the center of the encampment.
Oranna gives a gusty sigh of relief.
"O' course there were three," Bran says. "There's always three."
Shine nods.
Oranna nods. "That's how they tell it in the stories, aye," Oranna agrees with Bran on the rule of three.
Atley approaches Lorekeeper Valedrin. "My lord. Seems you're sorted, then."
A towering, white-bearded kaldorei man at the center of the camp turns to face Cobalt Company’s approach, warmth and relief etched in the lines of his face. “My friends, your timing was impeccable. Another day in there and I think we would have wasted away to nothing.” He reaches for a nearby scroll. “And now we can continue our search for the Pools of Youth!”
Florande peers at him curiously.
Atley looks out into the jungle.
The Sentinel standing next to him huffs impatiently. “Father, we need to deal with the Horde scout first.” She turns to the group and surveys them, and her brows rise with interest. “Cobalt Company? Here?”
"Do ye need some food? Maybe some very strong drenk?" Bran asks the elf.
Oranna looks at him skeptically. "The Pools o' Youth?" she repeats.
"Aye," Atley says to the Sentinel Commander. "On another matter of Alliance business. These Pools brought you here?"
"Indeed," Lorekeeper Vaeldrin says, waving the scroll he holds. "I am a Lorekeeper, a scholar of our people’s history. I recently came across some ancient texts from before the time of Azshara, that spoke of a powerful imperial dynasty that controlled magic waters called the Pools of Youth. It is my hope that if we can find this lost dynasty and their magic, we might find a way to restore the immortality of the kaldorei! I could not understand the location the scrolls described until we heard word of Pandaria’s emergence from the mists, and then I knew the coordinates must lie here.”
Oranna makes an uneasy sound. "I dinnae know about this," she mutters.
Atley knits his brow at Lorekeeper Vaeldrin before looking to Lyalia. "You mentioned Horde in the area?"
Florande looks skeptical. "That was a sacrifice. For the world."
Bran completely forgets about the elves' well being, now frantically taking notes on this legend.
"Yes, I did," Lyalia nods. "“I am Sentinel Commander Lyalia. I wonder if you might help us while we regroup here — most of our people have been weakened by that magic trap. Not long before you arrived, we saw a Horde sunwalker scout patrolling by the oubliette. I don’t know how he got here, but I can guarantee you he isn’t alone. They never are. Do you think you can track and kill him before he reports our position?”
Atley nods once. "F'course. Our path takes out to the south, but we'll linger about to see that you lot are squared away — and that these Pools don't fall into the wrong hands."
"Sunwalker," Florande repeats, tilting her head.
"Sunwalker," Bran repeats. "Those are like, Tauren paladins."
Oranna sighs, but she unslings SUNBEAM. "Aye, I can do that," she says. "I know what ta look fer."
Atley looks skeptical about tauren paladins but nods.
"Ah… how..?" Florande looks out at the forest, then shrugs. "I would say how did these people get here, too. But it was using unwise portal magics from 10,000 years ago."
"Sometimes when ye go pokin' ancient magics, they go pokin' ye back," Oranna agrees.
The white-bearded man smiles ruefully. “I wonder, friends, if I might trouble you for a favor myself? My daughter, the good Sentinel Commander, refuses to let me go into the field. But… I have a lead on the Pools.”
Atley grunts imploringly.
“I spent every day in that oubliette staring at the ruins to our north. If we are where I suspect we are, those ruins may contain the key to finding the fabled Pools of Youth! Please, go to those ruins and salvage any written tablets you find,” Vaeldrin entreats.
Bran looks excited!!
"We've an archaeologist with us," Atley says with a nod. "We'll go have a look."
Bran beams!
Shine takes this all in silently, his thoughts inscrutable.
Oranna nods to Shine.
“Hey.” Kang Bramblestaff sidles over. “The Hidden Master may have to wait. Look at these people! They are so thin. They must be starving after their time in that trap.”
Atley eyes Kang before he inspects some of the night elves with a grunt.
Oranna opens her mouth, and then closes it.
Florande looks at them sympathetically. They actually probably are pretty hungry, Bran was on point with that.
“You know what they need?” Kang asks. “A big, steaming bowl of Squirmy Delight. If you find yourselves near a river, try rounding up the intact glands of some water skitterers, and I’ll fix up a batch for these folks.”
Bran beams. "That's right kind o' ye."
Atley nods once. "A fine idea."
"Squirmy Delight," Florande knits her brows, and then nods.
"I spotted some marshland west of here. We'll hit that first," Atley says.
Oranna looks skeptical, but Befound looks hungry.
Shine looks impassive.
Bun could eat.
"I'm worried about this whole, searching fer a Fountain o' Youth. That doesnae e'er seem ta bode well in stories," Oranna says nervously.
"These'll be the skitterers then, I warrant," Atley says, examining the creatures.
"But what if it's real?" Bran says, eyes sparkling.
Befound pounces on a skitterer near the shore. GOTCHA!
Bun tries to pounce on a skitterer also, but the bugs are… larger than he is.
Atley promptly bashes open the carapace of a skitterer with the dragon spike on Thunderfury's pummel and starts rummaging around inside of it for the glands. "Aye…"
"I don't know if we want an immortal youth fountain," Florande says quietly. "I mean… I don't know.. obviously some of my people do."
"I might be even more worried if it's real," Oranna says. "Immortality's never a great thing if anyone might get ta it."
"These 'Pools' are a concern. Those that pursue eternal life without proper sanction have never fared well, in my experience," Atley growls.
Oranna nods vigorously in agreement.
"Hoew do these thengs stay atop the water like tha'??" Bran muses incredulously aloud. "They're the size o' tigers! Is it shaman magic?"
"I was immortal till I was fifteen," Florande says offhandedly.
"Oh, it's ah, sommat ta do with their wee feet. Snow Leopard's are much the same with snow, big paws, distribute weight," Oranna says to Bran.
Atley grunts, eyeing the water walking skitterers.
Befound demonstrates her huge paw by swatting it on a bug.
"Strange beasts," Atley says.
"Fascinatin'," says Bran to Oranna, and takes some notes.
Florande cat paws cannot walk on the water. She splashes through to attack.
Bran squishes a bug with his stick.
Atley looks around. "Ought to be more about."
Nearby, a skitterer suddenly is in pieces, mysteriously. It strayed too far toward the shadows.
"I bet they will like these," Florande says, looking at the water strider bug. "They look tasty."
Bran chuckles.
Atley examines one of the skitters. "Bit like crab, p'raps. That's good eating."
Befound growls as a tiger pounces towards Bran. NOT TODAY, TIGER.
Bran did not notice the tiger.
"Now for that Sunwalker…" Atley says, narrowing his eyes.
Oranna keeps her eyes on the tracks. "All righ', lessee…"
"Shouldna be hard ta find a tauren paladin," Bran theorizes. "They're not stealthy like our Shine, here," he says.
Shine is definitely here. Somewhere.
"Would tauren paladins get their hands on ancient Highborne portal scrolls?" Florande asks. "I sure hope not."
"Aye, but not as much as ye might think. Tauren know land, an' they move through it gentle," Oranna says.
"The mogu are older than even Queen Azshara…?" Atley says, glancing to Florande. "That's over ten thousand years, innit'?"
Florande nods. "Older than me, and older than my parents. But not my shan'do. About as old as him."
"As far as I know, most races other'n yers have been around around tha' long, Red,' Bran says.
"If ye count the Earthen as dwarves, which is debatable," Bran adds.
Atley grunts and points ahead. "Oi. Up ahead. On kodo back."
Bran readies his bonking stick.
Florande slips into cat form.
Oranna might have said a thing, but she's distracted by the tauren. "Aye, there we are." She sets her scope on him.
Atley waits for a moment before he charges out of the brush to engage the Sunwalker.
Florande pounces.
The Sunwalker is defeated.
Atley leans down to loot the corpse once the Sunwalker's been killed. "Nothing. Let's get to those tablets."
"Mogu. Properly sized." Atley growls. "Been meaning to cross blades with them for some time now."
Oranna pulls up short, out of surprise not just dwarven height, at the strange being. "What is — "
"A mogu!" Bran cries in excitement. The bonking stick is put away in favor of the sketchbook.
Florande stares. "This is not exactly how I imagined from newsletters."
"They're… a lot bigger in person than I was picturin'," Oranna says shakily.
"Leftovers from that fallen civilization," Atley says, examining the size and strength of the fallen mogu.
"Titans," Bran breathes excitedly. "They're bigger'n I expected."
"Proper tall, Built sturdy," Atley says.
"Might be sommat ta do with how big the bugs around here get, if everything was jus'….bigger," Oranna wonders.
Bran starts to look around, his eyes sweeping the area with his special Tablet-Spotting vision.
"Biglandia," Florande murmurs.
Oranna's looking for the Giant Mogu
"A tablet!" Bran cries, completely ignoring the enormous mogu who attacks.
Florande bites some ankles.
Befound purrs with approval of New Cat Girl in cat attack. Yes, good. Bun, take notes.
"Stay sharp!" Atley yells. Once the mogu falls, he marches over to Bran.
Oranna shoots at the mogu, leaving the tablets for Bran.
Nearby, in the shadows, a mogu makes an RRRRK sound and abruptly dies for mysterious reasons. Near a tanuki.
Bran excitedly gathers up tablets, seeming oblivious to the bloody slaughter going on within feet of him.
Florande seems more hesitant about the tablets, for some reason.
"Fifteen, you say?" Atley says, studying Florande passively.
Atley doubletakes Qu'nas. "Kill that big bastard."
They do.
"Mmhm," Florande says. "My parents were away at the war in Hyjal, and… it is a strange feeling. I do not know how to describe. Losing immortality."
"Difficult to imagine," Atley says in response to Florande.
"Ach!" says Bran, heart-eyed. "So many tablets…" It's… kind of astonishing how many he is carrying, tbh. They are made of stone.
"Maybe… a bag, Bran?" Oranna suggests, digging through her bag for another Cressidha bag.
"Oh thank ye kindly!" Bran says.
"I think my mother was more upset than I was," Florande says. "She did not do it herself, of course, but I think there was… guilt. That I would not have tens of thousands of years. But I don't need them. I will have good years."
"That's the sperret, lass," Bran says, somehow tuning into the conversation despite not seeming to be tuning into anything at all.
Atley grunts and hands off a tablet to Brannagen.
Florande smiles at Bran. "Which is why… I don't know if it is good? If we can get it back again somehow? If it is a mogu thing, especially…"
Whatever thoughts Shine has about immortality, he is keeping them to himself. Bun knows no fear of death, and this is very clear in his body language.
"Aye. An' immortality fer yer people never meant also impervious, so nothin' was ever guaranteed," Oranna says.
"I've a mind to see these pools. Make certain the mogu or the Horde don't twist them," Atley says.
Florande nods. "We never were impervious."
"Would be nice if we could all have a taste of immortality though," Bran muses. "Imagine how much we could learn!"
Shine does not comment.
Oranna nods at it. "There is sommat fer that. Imagine havin' yer whole Ta Be Read pile done," she says.
"Thousand years is a long bloody time. I'm already old," Atley says. "Let's get back to the night elves.”
"I'm…. somewhere around a hundred fifty," Bran says. "I thenk. An' I still feel like I could use so much more."
"Maybe," Florande shifts her shoulders. "But… the mogu are these… they made that trap…"
"I dinna think a Fountain o' Youth's the way ta do it, especially if… if they are powering it through traps that drain the essence o' others," Oranna agrees.
"Oh the mogu are awful, no question," Bran agrees amiably. "But even awful people can sometimes make or discover amazin' thengs."
"Some o' those things though shouldna be used," Oranna says.
"Not keen on the drainin' bit," Bran clarifies to Oranna with a nod.
Florande nods. Maybe she agrees with both of them.
"We've got the glands you asked for," Atley says to Kang, handing them over.
Kang grins. “Hah! With this I can make a stew potent enough to knock these waifish folks off their feet. Mama Bramblestaff always said Squirmy Delight will cure any hunger, one way or another.”
Befound nudges Oranna. If Kang is getting treatos, Befound should also get treatos, that's the rules.
Florande tilts her head, looking at him with a puzzled expression.
Oranna sighs and slips Befound a fish.
Atley grunts at Kang and marches forward to the elves, gesturing to Brannagen. "We recovered a number of tablets, as well. And put down that Sunwalker."
Lorekeeper Vaeldrin is waiting eagerly, already reaching out to receive the tablet fragments. “Oh! Fabulous! Fabulous!” He scans a tablet, beaming. “Your one trip has advanced my research more than ten years of reading dusty tomes and decaying scrolls. And these ‘mogu’ — I have been speaking with young Kang, and I suspect that they are the lost dynastic race that my research is derived from. Of course, that also means that they are the ones who used to control the Pools of Youth.” His gaze is radiant. “Perhaps these mogu know where the pools are? If you can find a… commander, a leader within the ruins,
they may be carrying vital information about the pools!”
Atley grunts and glances around at the ruins. "They seem to've been a great power — once. No longer."
"Maybe we can look at the tablets together later?" Bran says, giving the night elf puppy eyes.
Vaeldrin beams at Brannagen. "Of course, my friend! We can both enjoy them, once your work here is done."
Atley looks from the night elves to his squad. "We can look for a commander. See wot' they know."
"And you got the sunwalker… Excellent," Sentinel Commander Lyalia says. “Sunwalkers are not to be trusted. They are the most militant branch of the tauren armies within the Horde. However — it seems we may have a problem more urgent than the Horde presence. While you were dusting off tablets at the ruins for my father, I lost two scouts to wandering mogu patrols. These creatures apparently have little interest in peace and are about as trustworthy as the Horde. They are too numerous in this jungle and we are too weak. Go into the ruins and thin their numbers for us. They won’t be expecting a real fight.” She grins fiercely.
Atley nods once. "Done."
"We have fought some mogu already," Florande reports. "But we can always fight more…"
Oranna looks skeptical, and she looks up at Dane. "Aye, but.. a real fight, with anger and conflict… is this somethin' we can sustain without it turnin' inta another… jade statue?"
Lyalia blinks in confusion. Maybe she was in an arcane trap during the whole Serpent's Heart fiasco.
Atley looks to Oranna. "I'm confident, with only us and wot'ever mogu happens upon us. We will have to fight in this land — it's time to practice how."
"I'll explain later," Bran says to Lyalia.
Oranna chews on her lip, but she nods, for now.
Kang Bramblestaff clears his throat and approaches again. “If you’re heading into the ruins to fight mogu… The mogu really like their poisons and curses. Mama Bramblestaff always said that lotus tea cures any mogu curse. Imperial lotus grows all over old ruins — I bet we can find some out there. If we gather some of the leaves, we can have them on hand just in case the mogu get unruly.” Kang grins. “Also this will give me a chance to introduce my fists to some mogu faces.”
"It's jus' with us fightin' and then them fightin' back in revenge, and then us takin' revenge for their revenge…" Oranna mutters, her worry line heavily pronounced.
"Very well. Come along, then," Atley says to Kang.
"Aye, cmon!" Bran says to Kang, his eyes turning to crescents as he beams at him. Bran is delighted to have a new pandaren fren. Pandafren.
"I don't feel bad about it," Florande says, looking to Oranna. "If feeling bad is what causes sha."
"Aye, I en't mad at em," Bran says. "Just gotta get rid of 'em like any pest."
"Always a warranted concern to have in Pandaria, but we'll manage," Atley says.
Florande nods. "It is for safety. Not for… hate or anger."
"Er, sorry about wot happened last time, by the way," Bran says. He clears his throat.
Shine nods solemnly at Bran.
"It's not jus' it. No one seems ta know enough about exactly how it works, but big scale conflicts… end badly. Because we migh' not be angry enough, but if we get the Horde riled up… ah, but ye cannae do nothin'. It's like ye cannae win but by – a razor thin line," Oranna says.
Atley lifts a brow and glances over. "Nothing to forgive, Bran."
[Brannagen]: "We'll try ta keep it under control, Boomer, dinna fash. Tha' last disaster wasna our doin'. It was that damned SI:7 lot."
Oranna reaches over to pat Brann, because she can't quite reach Bran.
Brann mehs at Oranna.
"We don't know wot' lies ahead. We can only focus on the moment and move forward with our knowledge of the land in mind," Atley says. "The Horde is here. As are the mogu. We'll have to fight them both."
"What's in front of us is — " Oranna shouts as the mogu on the path attack.
"For the Thunder King!" cries one mogu as they attack. Another sneers, "Your kind were made to be ruled."
"Ach, here we go…" Oranna says as she gets SUNBEAM up.
"Oh, so tha's how et es," Bran says wryly in response to the mogu.
"How do they even know our kind?" Florande asks, bemused. "Maybe just that we are not their kind…"
"I was wonderin' wot flavor of evil these bastards were. Noew we ken." Bran glances skyward.
Atley grunts at Florande.
Oranna startles as a mogu looks at her, and begins to drain her strength. A singular shot interrupts the cast, but Oranna's still briefly pale.
"Slavers and tyrants, clinging to an older, more barbaric era. Like trolls," Atley says.
Atley marches over to Oranna. "Alright, then?" He looks to Bran.
Shine has no comment on the mogu's racism, unless you count the extremely quiet and bloody way in which one dies.
"Aye, there was jus'… somethin' draining me…" Oranna says, pressing a hand to her chest. "I'm fin — I'll be fine."
Bran tosses heals about willy-nilly as usual, barely looking at anyone.
Florande darts around, helping defend her friends with tooth and claw.
"What are they digging up?" Kang asks. "I've never seen mogu use tools and weapons like these before."
"Wot's this red theng?" Bran says, going to stand on it. The red thing is a trap.
"Brannagen!" Atley barks.
"Sorry, sorry," says Bran, getting up off the ground where it tossed him.
Oranna tries shooting at the ground to disrupt the trap.
As the bullet disperses it, he jogs free of it, beaming.
Florande pops into elvish form to put a little heal on Bran. "Now we know. So we have learned more!"
Atley eyes Brannagen sharply before moving on.
The other traps quietly disappear, in the shadows, for some reason.
"This is new for mogu, is it?" Atley asks Kang as he moves.
Kang nods seriously. Then he punches a mogu and laughs. "I think I punched him so hard his ancestors felt it!"
Bran listens with interest to the conversation with Kang.
Atley scoffs with amusement.
"Well, it'd be foolish ta think we're the only ones bringin' new thinkin' ta our allies. Like with the hozen an' the Horde…" Oranna muses.
Kang then turns back to Dane. "I don't think these mogu are from here. They seem to be scavenging old relics, not digging in or pillaging."
Atley grunts. "I'd like to know if this mogu advancement is because of us, or a coincidence."
"So they're archaelogists?" Bran says in surprise. "Evil archaeologists!"
Oranna examines a wheeled machine. "Hm…I dinna think goblin's put these kinds of lil flourishes in their machines."
"There were encounters with them before, right?" Florande says. "But… from newsletters I think we were stopping them, not putting them on path of new things?"
"Evil archaeologists!" Kang agrees cheerfully.
"Learn things from us by observing us. Our organization, movements, tenacity," Atley clarifies.
"So maybe we… inspire them," Florande says, considering a dead mogu.
"I hope they're learnin' tha' they all end up dead when they cross us," Bran says cheerfully.
"Learning that just now, I warrant," Atley says before he spots the Dojani Dominator. "That one looks in charge."
Oranna makes an uneasy sound.
Bran excitedly bonks the large mogu with a stick.
When the mogu falls, Bran notices a scroll poking out of its belt and snatches it.
Atley raises his head and knits his brow inquiringly, peering at Bran and the scroll.
"Let's see…" he says. "Ach, I know some o' the characters on thes!"
"Is it the information they thought the mogu might have 'bout the Pools?" Oranna asks curiously.
Atley draws closer, but he does give Bran space.
"Looks like… someone's bein sent to… ruins of 'Dojan' — looking for… weapons. Armaments. Statues, scrolls, arcane… an'… I thenk this says Pools o' Youth here!" Bran squints at it, looks like he's doing linguistic calculations.
Atley grunts sharply and lifts his gaze. "They're after it as well, then."
"Aye, but where?" Oranna asks.
"North," he says confidently. "North Dojan, water."
He points at the characters in question.
Oranna looks… north!
Lorekeeper Vaeldrin’s voice echoes in our minds again. Well done! Hm. It looks like the mogu are here to collect ancient relics and… weapons? from their forgotten dynasty. That is a problem we can face later, though. Ah! A reference to the Pools of Youth.
For a moment the Lorewalker’s ‘voice’ is an indistinct murmur, and then he exclaims, Yes, you’re right, north! Go north! But be on your guard. The mogu are here for the waters as well.
There is another lull, and then the Lorekeeper murmurs, I’m still not sure about these references to ‘torture’ regarding the pools… be careful, my friends.
"Let's move," Atley says.
"Why?" Florande blinks. "They are… arming? They are planning attack?"
"It's signed by this fella here, a 'lord' o' some kind." He points to the characters.
"Must be. Scouring the ruins for power," Atley says.
Atley comes to a stop and nods ahead. "Right. Wot's all this, then?"
"Whooooa," Bran says, looking at the seemingly trapped water elemental in the red light.
"Have a care, you lot…" Atley says, briefly eyeing Kang before he marches forward.
Oranna gasps at the giant masked thing. "What the — another mask."
Bran approaches the trapped water elemental, his expression very mixed.
Shine has very little expression at all.
Atley knits his brow and looks down before glancing all around them. "This is it, then…" He looks to the elemental. "Hail."
The water spirit smiles, and an invigorating sense of youth washes over the group.
Florande gazes up at the trapped creature. "It feels like we should let him free."
"It makes me feel… kinda happy? But it shouldna, in its condition." Bran strokes his beard, puzzled.
Oranna is careful, keeping an eye on their exit route, but she inches closer. "Oh, Dane, I think they've… trapped the poor creature, an'… that's how they're…"
"It feels a good creature," Florande nods. "Let's try to help it."
"Can we get ye out o' there, big buddy?" Bran says, looking up at it.
"It's like that one naaru story, some years back," Oranna says sorrowfully.
Atley blinks and suddenly smooths a hand over his knee as the youthful sensation washes over him. He looks to Oranna, and then to the elemental, and grunts.
"Let's see wot' we can do to free it. Hold fast, great one," Atley says.
Befound sniffs at the barrier.
A massive mogu armored ornately in green and gold teleports into the courtyard. “Halt, supplicants!” he roars. “These waters belong to the Thunder King! Your presence is unwelcome. Guardians! Kill the intruders!” He vanishes.
Around the pool, four statues of creatures like massive, maned dogs shift to life. They attack.
Florande leaps into action to attack the stone dogs.
"Woew!" Bran says, sketching one as the others fight.
"Oi! Eyes up!" Atley barks, rusing into the middle.
Oranna's eyes are on the enemies, as she leaps back to get a better angle and out of the fray of the giant statues.
Florande is outsized, but not outmatched. She looks over to make sure cat-friend Befound is faring alright.
Atley leaps towards one of the statues, carving a chunk out of its visage with Thunderfury.
Befound rakes her claws down a stone liondog, as a superior Cat Form.
Bun fearlessly growls at one.
Florande flanks a stone creature with Befound, taking it down together.
"They were like… stone… liondogs," Bran approximates.
"Aye. More strange beasts," Atley says in agreement with Bran.
"Well I dinnae have 'be attacked by giant stone statues come ta life at a Fountain o' Youth' on my bingo card today, but I probably should have," Oranna mutters.
Shine gazes at the fallen stone liondogs, his expression unreadable.
A warm feeling of gratitude and affection washes over every member of the group as the water spirit flows free of his arcane prison and returns to the waters of the pool.
"Never a dull moment, mm?" Atley says, inspecting everyone.
“Hey,” says Kang Bramblestaff. “Look at that. The little guy left you some purified water.”
"Ooooh," Bran says excitedly, peering at it.
Oranna inspects the water splashed on her, curiosity warring with caution, and curiosity wins out as she licks a drop.
"Should we… bring a little back?" Florande asks, though she sounds doubtful.
Atley narrows his eyes. "Get a sample of that, Bran."
Bun have drinkie? No, Bun.
Befound sneaks a lap of water. Slorp.
They do not, one assumes, drink of the special purified water that Bran collects for the night elves.
Bran nods and pulls out several of the many empty vials he always carries around. Just alchemist things.
"Oi — mind yourselves. Don't try that lightly," Atley says. To the animals.
"Let's get that sample back," Atley says.
Brann the Ram dodges tigers who think rams smell tasty.
Lorekeeper Vaeldrin looks over at the group with hope in his eyes. "Did you find it?"
"Aye. We freed the elemental, and brought you a sample," Atley says, gesturing to Bran.
Shine nods.
Oranna's face says they totally did. Oranna's mouth says, "Errrr…"
Bran hands over the vial, eyes sparkling with excitement.
“You… you did it!” exults Lorekeeper Vaeldrin. “You found the pools! The waters do exist!”
The Lorekeeper’s expression fades as he studies the vial. “Hm. Something is… wrong? I feel equal parts shadow and light swirling in this vial.” He holds it up to examine it more closely, then shakes his head.
“When we arrived here, I felt the presence of the Light, strong and vibrant, far to the north. I thought it would surely be the Pools of Youth. But this… this water feels tainted, somehow. Stained with mogu magics?” The Lorekeeper frowns. “I think it best I try only a small sip and see what happens.”
Befound coughs out a hairball discreetly.
Bran gets out his journal to take notes.
Atley knits his brow and steps forward, but he doesn't interrupt. "Have a care."
Vaeldrin uncorks the vial. “The moment of truth.” He tips back a small sip — and instantly doubles over, screaming.
“Father!” cries Lyalia.
"Brannagen!" Atley snaps.
Bran backs up, but keeps taking notes.
Oranna takes a step back, and looks to Bran.
A sinister scarlet thread seems to draw out of Vaeldrin and link him to Atley.
"Oh right!" Bran tosses out a heal.
“Father!” Lyalia intervenes, taking her father by the shoulders. “What’s wrong?”
"This dinna look good," Bran says curiously.
The red thread of energy fades and vanishes, and Lorekeeper Vaelrin straightens stiffly, his face still chalky with pain. “I… see. The water… it… it only transfers life. It will not return or increase life.”
Bran closes his book for the moment to observe more closely, hands glowing with Light in preparation.
Atley straightens up and immediately reaches underneath his cloak, flattening the palm of his gauntlet over his back. "I feel younger."
"And I older, friend," Vaeldrin says weakly.
"Like… that one place that the uh — uh, the Ian was searchin' for?" Oranna asks.
"Aye… S'good to have learned this now," Atley says.
"Nice!" Bran says. "You could use those years more'n' the elf will miss 'em. Just, comparatively speakin, ratio-wise."
"Ian…?" Vaeldrin says, looking at her.
"The Vale of Eternal Blossoms," Atley clarifies. "And he’s a contact of the Company.”
"Vale of Eternal Blossoms," Vaeldrin repeats. "I do not know this place. But it sounds… hm."
"Aye, ye know, Ian," Oranna stresses to Florande, with eyebrows. "He went off lookin' fer a pool tha' could heal an' give life. If this is another sort…"
"Sounds pretty nice, unless it's one o' those marketin' real estate thengs, like callin' a swamp 'Crestview' or wotever,' Bran says.
"It might mean Ian's Vale is not so healing either," Florande says, looking out into the jungle.
Shine, having tensed with a hand on his dagger when the screaming started, is now back to being impassive.
Atley looks to Florande. "P'raps." He turns to Kang and offers him the flowers. "Here you are, then."
[Brannagen]: "Say, Red — ser — ye dinna mind ef I stay here a bit ta study all we uncovered today, do ye?"
"Not in the slightest," Atley says to Brannagen. "Our path is still the Temple to the south, but we're going to linger in the area for a time, see to any mogu or Horde threats before buggering off."
"I think I'll head out ta do some more scoutin' around. I'll be careful not ta engage any more of the Mogu, but… just in case Ian came around here…" Oranna says.
Atley looks between each of them. "Well done today, you lot."
"Fantastic!" says Bran, and out comes the pen again.
Atley looks to Lorekeeper Vaeldrin. "There's a village to the northeast. Zhu's Watch. Call on me there if need be."
"I will stay around here," Florande says. "Learn more of these kaldorei."
Atley nods. "Dismissed." He swings himself aboard Hal'vyr.
Oranna waves goodbye to everyone, as she heads back into the jungle.