//------------------------------// // Valiance Keep, Part I // Story: Azeroth's Skies // by TerrabreakerX //------------------------------// It was cold. So very, very, cold. Just how she liked it. Mammoth-sized bones - that may have belonged to an actual mammoth - half-buried beneath the snow, dotted the landscape. A grim reminder that everything dies, someday. And the land reeked of death more often here, this far north, than anywhere else in the world. She spotted two figures slowly advancing towards her, misshapen blobs through the sleet, which gradually took form as they approached.. One was slightly taller than the other, and both wore remnants of Alliance Expedition battlegear, a wristplate here, a greave there. She didn’t recognise them in the slightest, but given that she hadn’t bothered to learn any of the soldier’s names or identities while they had still lived… that wasn’t exactly a surprise. Boring. She’d killed many ghouls already, on this battlefield, or another. They weren’t even worth drawing her blades for. Instead, she raised her hand and hammered them with a chill wind – one, then two, just to be sure. She walked over and spent a few minutes grinding their bones and gristle down to dust under her armoured boots. The less that remained, the harder it would be for the Scourge to raise them again. How many days had she been out here, now? Several, at least. It felt like a month since she had arrived on Northrend’s shores, but it couldn’t have been more than a couple of weeks in reality. Not needing to sleep, eat or rest in general did strange things to one’s perception of time. They had proceeded east out of Valiance Keep, along the path towards the Dragonblight. Coordination, skills and morale among the company had all been high coming off of two weeks of strict training aboard the Kraken, and she had to admit to having felt, at one point, just the slightest bit of confidence in their chances of survival. That feeling hadn’t lasted long. Their first major engagement had led her here – or left her here, stranded without support… though support from Stormwind had obviously proven not to mean much. They’d walked straight into an ambush, right out in the open, conducted in a way that most mortal armies could not have executed. Their commander had died within minutes of the first worm bursting forth from the earth, after which the rest had folded like a wet blanket – fleeing out into the frozen wastes in all directions just as a massive blizzard had begun. It hadn’t been her fault. She’d cut through more Scourge in the twenty minute engagement than the rest of the company put together. The soldiers had just been weak, fatally unprepared for war in the north. She paused as the blizzard began to clear, a reprieve, and something up near a ridge ahead caught her eye. An eerie light, glinting grey against the snow; it quickly began to coalesce into the shape of a man. Now this was interesting. The insignia on his shoulders made it clear that he was from her company, and not an older ghost from a previous battle. Weaker Scourge necromancers rarely bothered with the more difficult task of drawing out lost and vengeful souls as undead retainers, and it was far too soon for him to have emerged on his own, without time in the beyond to stew over his fate. Perhaps there was a lich nearby. The weapon the ghostly figure bore was real, held aloft by unholy power, but everything else about him – his appearance, his armour and his flesh – they were all naught but a shade of what he had been in life. But a shade with a weapon was a still a threat, and sufficient sport for her to derive satisfaction from his second demise. She drew her own, Derision and Scorn, from their scabbards and began closing the distance between them. He raised his sword and shifted into a warding stance as she stalked closer, his face locked in the rictus scream he had to have died with. The eldritch energies animating his being gave him a swiftness he could not have possessed in life. Yet she was faster still. One runeblade swept up to parry his defensive strike, metal striking metal with a resounding clang. It was probably unnecessary for her to defend – the poor quality metal stood little chance of penetrating her dark armour at such an angle – but it would diminish her in the long run to sacrifice proper form, even against such an inferior foe. The other cut deep into his chest - so deep, in fact, that it passed straight through him. That alone was to be expected, given the incorporeal nature of her foe. A blade made of normal metal, iron or steel, would have done just that, and that alone, with all the effectiveness of cutting into an empty space. But her weapons were not normal blades. Halfway in, Derision had begun to shimmer darkly. By the time its tip was all the way out of his back, his entire frame was wreathed in black frost. The force in his right arm evaporated as the slightest echo of his remaining humanity recoiled at the searing chill of her magic. She brought up Scorn and slashed across his shimmering throat. The imitation of a mortal wound was enough to erase his tether to the world of the living, and his weapon fell to the ground as he faded away, his torment at an end. She took a little pleasure from the kill, and none at all in his freedom. The wind was picking up again, and the snow flurried with it. She stood for a moment at the top of the ridge, looking down into another approaching storm. She didn’t have many options. Attempting to return to Valiance Keep or press on alone to the Dragonlight would both be difficult. The commander alone had been in possession of the map, and she had no idea where he had fallen. The tundra would have to come to an end, eventually. By picking one direction and sticking to it, she would eventually end up at the border, or perhaps, at worst, the sea. For now, she was resigned to wandering, slaughtering her way across the tundra, even as the thought that she was missing out the war, missing out on her vengeance, enraged her. There were worse ways for a death knight to spend time. Before sorting their barracks, before stowing their kit, before anything else, their immediate task was a ceremonial march past the senior staff of Valiance Keep. Twilight tried to stand as still as possible on the deck of the ship, but it was an impossible task. Even having all of her warmest kit on under her robes did little to stop her shivering, and she could see everyone else around her, save the dwarves, fighting – and losing – the same battle. General Arlos, the officer in charge of the keep, would be standing on a podium close to a statue of King Wrynn, and she was to salute him as they passed. She could see the statue just beyond a building that appeared to be an inn, but there was no sign yet of the podium from the ship. “Detail!” the keep sergeant-major cried at last. “Detaaaaaaaaiiiiil, forward march!” There was a bit of shuffling on the spot as they waited for the other platoon to clear through, then suddenly they were off at a brisk pace, down the ramp onto the cobbled pavement below. Not many had lined the street to see them in, though she hadn’t been expecting any sort of grand welcome. Valiance Keep’s civilian population was still quite small, and the soldiers at the permanent garrison were far too busy. If anything, it eased the pressure a little. Marching wasn’t really that hard. Indeed, it was really all about practice. But some people took to it faster than others, which showed quite clearly in the variety of drill exhibited by her Second and Third squads. She was proud at least that all were giving it their best, and prouder still that her friends had all managed to get to more than a passable level of skill. They marched directly behind her, the rest of the platoon following in their wake. She, in turn, marched behind the last squad of the other support platoon, marginally ahead as they were in seniority by several days. Everything, from the uneven road to the docks to the habitats, either appeared hastily completed or still very much in progress. The construction teams had to have been working non-stop over the last few weeks even just to get everything to this standard. Not the walls to the north, east and west, though – they were finished and secure. Safety first, after all. The road ahead began to twist to the right, and there was suddenly enough of a gap for her to get a good look at the top of the podium, where she saw… nobody. The podium itself was there, but the General was absent, and no-one was there to take his place. A little wrong-footed, she swallowed hard and kept on going, throwing up the salute anyway as she passed the statue and trying not to flush with embarrassment. The road took them past a forge on their right and another icebreaker, the Stormbreaker, docked in the middle of the keep to their left, then helpfully led straight into the barracks they had been directed to on the map. Had it been meant as some kind of slight? The general couldn’t have known about her or the other lieutenant personally. Perhaps he objected to the concept of the support platoons – maybe this was his way of making a statement. Or perhaps he was simply too busy to greet them. Either way, she thought grimly, it isn’t the best way to mark the start our time here. Moving in wasn't the smoothest affair, either. The barracks complex comprised multiple small two-level buildings, with each level having two rooms - the perfect size for a normal-sized platoon. Eight Platoon specifically was to stay in block seven. It was, as with the rest of the keep, both entirely new and yet permanently damp from the northern weather, and so smelled of an odd combination of wet wood and fresh sawdust. It was also home, for the foreseeable future, for all save Twilight, who had no choice but to take a room in the officer's quarters on the other side of the keep - even if most of the time she would be nearby anyway, watching over the platoon. Indeed, before sorting her own dwelling, she'd gone up to the next level of the building to supervise the ordering of the rooms, taking Fluttershy and Pinkie with her. "Didja pick out our room, Dash?" Applejack asked as they neared the door Rainbow had pointed to. "First squad pretty much ran in here after Twilight finished the briefing. Hope we don't have what they did on the boat again..." "No sweat." Rainbow chuckled. "I was in and out with all our gear before Twilight even came through the entrance. There's not much difference between the two, I'll admit, but our one's warmer, a bit less musty and maybe a little roomier. No way did they beat me this ti—" The door swung open and First squad piled out of the room, all still in their full armour but now lightened of their packs. Corporal Bandor wasn’t with them, but they still outnumbered the girls, seven to three. “’ey, what gives?” “First squad has this room. Closest to the entrance, closest to the action. First to the fray. Take the room over the other side.” Kellas huffed. The squad stood behind him, and the message in their body language couldn't have been clearer. Move, or be moved. A few seconds passed. Seven pairs of distrusting, contempt-filled eyes stared at three ranging from indignation to cold intensity. It was a bit of a stand-off. Applejack and Rainbow, temperamentally, were not ones to back down from confrontation, especially when they thought they had the right of the situation. Fluttershy, back in Ponyville and even now, would have backed down - whether it was shying away in awkward fright or wanting to avoid any form of interaction, the reasoning mattered little. Pinkie would have turned it into a joke, and defused the situation through laughter, and no small amount of confusion. But neither were here right now. Rarity to her credit, tried to negotiate... "Please, friends, there is no need for this—" ...and found herself undercut by Rainbow, who loudly asked, "What about all our kit?" “We made sure to get it out for you, don’t worry.” the closest private pointed to five neatly stacked packs a little way down the hall. "Why would you even need it, anyway?" another chimed in. "You won't even need to fight with us between you and the enemy." a third agreed. "And that's probably a good thing, after what we saw on the ship," one more just had to sneer. Their armour wasn't just protection from harm - it was protection from recognition. They had no idea which individuals in the squad they were speaking to. Rainbow made to take a step forward, her temper as quick to rise as ever. “Why, you—” “Is there a problem here?” Twilight interrupted, appearing in the doorway, having made her rounds upstairs. Standing behind her, Corporal Bandor stared at his men and women with an eyebrow raised. They answered his gaze with blank, innocent looks. “Ahem." Kellas cleared his throat. "No, ma’am. No problem at all.” “…no problem, boss.” Applejack echoed. Neither of the lance-corporals looked away from each other. Rainbow shot another glare at the men, but Twilight's presence forestalled any further escalation on her part. The mage looked down the corridor, and noticed her friend's packs outside the other room. She raised her board and quill expectantly. "I need to mark down who's in which room. First is in this one, and girls, you're in the far one - is that correct?" "Perfectly correct, ma'am!" Kellas sounded off, quicker to the draw. "Yeah, boss." Applejack could only say, not wanting to start another confrontation. She looked away from Kellas at last, clamped a soothing - or insistent - hand on Rainbow's shoulder, and said, "We'll get right on unpackin'." "Thanks - I'll let Fluttershy and Pinkie know where to go." Twilight replied, satisfied, and wandered back into the entrance, making notes on her parchment as Bandor directed first into their newly-claimed bunks. "C'mon." Applejack said to her friends, sure that she could feel the intensity of Kellas's stare still boring into her back. "Let's get settled in." A routine quickly emerged for the newly arrived support platoons. They were the only two units from the Kraken to hold at the keep - as an infantry company was already garrisoned there, the soldiers who had arrived alongside them were immediately deployed on to objectives further north. Free time was scarce, and opportunities for things to do with it were just as limited. Valiance didn't have much of a civilian population, either, which didn't help. Those that had come tended not to want to stay too long or were there to be drafted. A few were kept out of the military because of the trades they bore - fishermen, smiths, trappers - and stayed apart from the soldiers in a section of the base that even had its own tavern. More were scheduled to arrive every two weeks for the foreseeable future. Eat, fight, train, rest. But mostly fight. “Soldiers of Valiance, we are threatened! To the walls, to the walls!” Assaults were a constant fact of life at Valiance Keep. “To the walls!” The town crier called, and so they went. The officers would organise their troops in the square, and file them out squad by squad. “To the walls!” Twilight echoed, waving her platoon out of their barracks as they shook off the haze of sleep, hastily jammed on their helmets and any other missing armour pieces and unsheathed their weapons. Her men and women had not yet had to venture beyond the walls of the keep, though it remained a possibility, if the situation were to become truly dire. Instead, Third squad concentrated on healing those in need from the rear, while First and Second squads mounted the parapet as sharpshooters against the closest Scourge and the inevitable tide of airborne creatures that accompanied them. Each time they struggled to clear out enough ground from above for the infantry to advance and push the Scourge back to the tunnels they spewed from – a solution, but only a temporary one. It bought them roughly ten hours each time, at most. The undead never struck in a pattern. They had chosen to come at noon today, but her troops had soon learned – if they hadn’t known already – to try for sleep whenever they had the chance. Sometimes they had to fight at dawn, as rays of sun poked through the few gaps in the northern clouds. Sometimes in the middle of the night, when the only illumination they could rely on came in the form of flares that burned bright but soon expired, and the magical light of spells. “Good day for it, eh, ma’am?” Donovan, one of the men from First squad, and the last she was expecting to see, called out as he passed her. She smiled and followed him at a run. They had emerged as a disorganised rabble, which was something she was still hoping to work on more with them, and a clear sign that further improvement was needed. Now that they were in the square, though, they were forming up nicely under the direction of Corporal Bandor. She reached the front of platoon, smiling at the sight of her girls ready and resplendent beside her, and nodded to the corporal, who stepped back into rank to give her the proverbial floor. She didn't have time for much of an inspirational speech. Good, valiant men were fighting to the brink of injury or worse to give them time to get in position. She came to "Eight platoon! We're called on once again to defend Valiance Keep! For Darkshire and Stormwind! Watch us strike!" She'd learned that last line early on, and found it had stuck with her. It was a favourite of First squad's, and it got them - and the rest of the platoon with them - fired up, just as they needed to be. They seemed to have started passing around some of their regimental traditions. It was a good sign of acceptance on their part, and of integration in general - she only hoped it would be reciprocal, and not just one way. Turning to the north, she led them towards the battlements and into another fight. Five minutes passed. The walls were holding well. It was a solid start, one of the best Rarity had seen. And she'd been careful to notice a lot, these past few weeks. Mistakes, weaknesses, imperfections. Not passed on out of malice or spite - never those - but so that they could be smoothed over. She suspected it wasn't making her - or perhaps Twilight, who bore the brunt of correcting them - very popular, but it was necessary. Generous, even. They all had their tasks to perform, just as she would use the correct materials for each particular dressmaking, and for the most part they did them well. Corporal Bandor and his men and women were there to stop anything getting through to them, using blade or rifle as necessary, and if anything did climb, fly or charge its way past them, well, she, Rainbow and Applejack were Twilight’s last line of defense. It wasn’t a very demanding task. The Stormwind soldiers below were good at their jobs, and they hadn’t yet let anything past, or even into the water, on the ground. The undead in the air could have been a problem, if not for the multitude of mages, sharpshooters, and others highly capable of fighting from a distance. Twilight herself could of course be counted among this group, regularly lobbing down bolts of frost and arcane that sparkled in the sun like gemstones as they smashed into the undead, while calling out orders for her allies to help focus their efforts. She never used fire, though; that was something Rarity had picked up on. Not since the Deadmines. But speaking of fire, she kept careful track of the young gnome mage, Gearfuse, on the next battlement over, wreaking havoc with a conflagration that was spreading across the dry, desiccated husks below with ease. She was invaluable, but she had to be watched. Very, very carefully, after the incident on the ship. There was a little too much glee in her eyes at the striking of the spark - more like a warlock, more like Fizzlezip, than she was like any of the other mages. Rarity kept a close eye on Fluttershy, too, though not nearly for the same reason. Her friend was hurting, but she wasn’t lashing out… or even bottling it up, in a sense. She was as quiet as ever, but she was also channelling her grief and her pain into something more productive. But still not very healthy. She sat on the far side of the wall, alone in comparison to the tightly knit forces alongside her – but, then, to be alone was all she had really seemed to want since Wilder’s death. She watched the battlefield carefully, and occasionally pulled out an arrow and flung it loose at a target. Not every one of her arrows hit home, but most of those that did had the desired effect – piercing wings, splitting through skulls and bursting through the egg sacs of the Scourge’s more exotic creatures. Hmm. Definitely worth watching, now more than ever. Rarity looked back at Twilight as the mage brought down a blizzard from the sky. At least Twilight has held onto her confidence after that dusty debacle. Nothing will hurt her, or any of my friends, on my watch. So she stayed in the shadows – watching, waiting and ready. Twilight looked down over the battlefield and allowed herself a brief, small smile. They had once again weathered the Scourge’s first wave. The work of her platoon was done, for the moment. The worst of this attack was over. Two squads of the keep’s infantry garrison charged out of the gates and over the bridge at the back of Justicar Julia Celeste, whose righteous fury on the battlefield had made her invaluable during each and every battle so far, and joined with their exhausted fellows who had first been tasked with holding the beach below. The Scourge died in droves against the sally, and their numbers and presence on the Sands of Nasam quickly dwindled to the point that they were outside the maximum range of Twilight’s forces. As the squads below pushed on, to detonate explosive charges in the burrowed tunnels that allowed the Scourge to assault them, Twilight took a deep breath and turned away, back towards the keep. “Well done, everyone!” she called out to the platoon as they gathered around her, her girls closest of all. “We withstood the undead again without any casualties! Great work!” The supreme protection afforded to them by the walls of Valiance Keep – coupled with the fact that they never left those walls – had made any losses highly unlikely, and she was thankful for that. A few of her soldiers had suffered mishaps, and near misses, admittedly – some had been struck by rocks, or caught by the edge of the acid spit of a skitterer that had managed to fly too close. Pinkie and the other’s healing had sorted most of these without too much trouble, but she herself had tripped and fallen down the stairs up to the battlements on one memorable and rather embarrassing occasion. It had put her in the medical wing for two days, and led to three much quieter, but also much sketchier, battles. It was all nothing compared to what she had seen of those who ranged out beyond the walls and weren’t so lucky. The injured, missing limbs, sporting acid burns or grievous cuts… and four or five dead bodies, separated from the world in thick black sheets. The keep always fell silent whenever one of these fallen heroes passed on the way to home. They made her not want to leave the sanctuary, as much for the sake of those she was responsible for as her own, but she knew that a good portion of her platoon wouldn’t have agreed. “Time for breakfast, then!” she offered a popular topic, and received a resounding cheer. The wall sentries looked on in jealousy – they could only have been through half their shift. The crowd began to disperse, off in the direction of the keep’s mess hall, for what would probably another inspired variation on… crab. They were in great abundance on and around the tundra’s shores, and much safer to obtain than rhino meat. Her girls stayed close as they walked the cobbled streets without any degree of hurry, swapping stories and recounting moments from the fight before. “Did you see that last hit, Applejack?” Rainbow had been particularly proud of her own efforts in finishing off the weakened enemies that made their way up to try to scale the walls. Her power, when used in this regard, had started to regularly take the shape of a giant two-faced hammer not unlike her own weapon. “It practically melted!” “You’re jus’ lucky you can fight from afar no sweat.” Applejack grumbled. “Nothin’ even got close to Twilight this time. Me’n’Rarity jus’ stood there, bored.” “I don’t know how you can say that!” Pinkie said, half a pout creeping onto her face. “I put on a special song to celebrate being back out of the hospital after such a long stay-” “Pinkie, you were in there for less than forty-eight hours.” “—and I was super sure you would enjoy it!” Applejack chuckled. “’s alright Pinkie. I enjoyed your song.” “Phew! I was really worried for a sec. I thought I’d have to come up with a whole new routine. Even though I might have already done that. On that note, I have something I need to go see to. Bye!” She disappeared down the road in a flash of pink and a shower of sprinkles. Twilight couldn't help but grin. Never change, Pinkie. Never change. Fluttershy made her normal excuses and vanished off to where she normally went during the day when not called on to train or fight - wherever that was. Every attempt Twilight had made on keeping tabs on her had failed, and after the first week she had accepted that she would just have to trust her friend, and give her the space she seemed to crave. They reached the cookhouse. Rarity and Rainbow accidentally found themselves a few spaces ahead in the queue, and, with a nod from Twilight, forged ahead. “It has got me thinkin’, though, boss,” Applejack said, contrarily apropos of nothing, as she and the mage neared the cookhouse doors. “Hmm?” “Think we’re gonna be here for the rest of the war? I was expectin’ to be sent out in like a week of gettin’ here, but we’ve been here two now without a hint of us leaving. Y’can tell the troops’re getting restless, yeah?” Twilight slowly nodded. “So have you heard any rumours up with the high and mighty?” Twilight pursed her lips. “No.” It wasn’t like she had much contact with the high command of the keep, even living as she did in the officer’s quarters. General Arlos had his own rooms that he seemed to never leave; Justicar Celeste, in dramatic contrast, rarely ever left the frontline, and took sleep at a premium. Apart from herself and the other support platoon lieutenant, Issha Duskwind - who was also none-the-wiser - there were four others who frequented the accommodation block; Captain Dale of the garrisoned Second Redridge Rifles and his three subordinate platoon commanders, who she only ever saw on the way to-or-from the battlefront. “Makes you wonder,” Applejack continued as they reached for the doors of the mess hall, “Whether- hey, Twi, I think that fella wants a word with ya.” Turning, Twilight saw that Applejack was correct. A private soldier, not one of hers, was making his way across the courtyard towards them, in quite a hurry. She paused at the door to let him catch up, and he stopped and saluted as he approached. “Ma’am. Corporal.” “Thank you,” Twilight said, returning the salute as Applejack nodded. “Can I help you?” “A message for you, ma’am, from General Arlos. It’s most urgent.” the man explained, offering her a scroll affixed with a dull blue wax seal. She took it and thanked him as he left, then looked at her friend. “Well, this is a first.” “No kiddin’.” If nothing else, it was the first time the elusive general had acknowledged her existence. “What’s it say?” She broken up the seal and studied the scroll intently. “There’s a command meeting to be held at the central keep, this afternoon, at four. I’m wanted there.” She looked up, distracted for a moment as a glint of white caught her eye, then sighed. It was beginning to snow again. “Now maybe we’ll get some answers.” The healers of Third squad, minus the night elf twins, plus one guest, retreated to their dwellings after breakfast to relax, and recuperate. The battles inevitably taxed them the most of those who fought on the walls, and they had quickly learned to make the most of whatever rest they could get. The topic of conversation quickly turned, as it frequently had the past few days, to the love-life of one of their members - specifically his attraction to another member of the squad. “Just go an’ ask her, lad.” Father Stonewrought opined, stroking his beard. The old priest stood closest to the man in the spotlight, close enough that the man could smell the meat he had had for his breakfast on his breath - typically for a dwarf, he'd chosen the boar. “The worst she can say is ‘nah’.” Vernor sighed. His crush on Erina had quickly become known to the rest of his squad, and now Second had starting making jokes about it, too. He had no idea how Sister Pie might react if she found out, but the prospect was far too embarrassing to contemplate. “On Argus, I did not tell woman I loved of my feelings.” Arin counselled. He was the only mage among them, but he tended to hang around with Third more than Second during their downtime. “She die in demon attack. Not pretty death.” “That’s… very sad.” “Not worth waiting, was my meaning.” “She might already have a partner.” he protested. “She does not.” dismissed Ylia. She possessed a slightly firmer grasp of the common tongue compared to her fellow draenei. She sat by the end of the bunk, brushing her hair neat and straight, taking care to avoid her horns. “Neither sister does.” “You know this, how?” The shaman shrugged. “They may always be together, friend, but they are capable of conversing with others.” “Would ‘elp if y’just try talkin’ to her instead’a blushin’ an’ runnin’ off each time.” The priest sighed, defeated. “I know…” The great keep was by far the most opulent part of Valiance. It stood out like a sore thumb compared to how incomplete and under-construction the rest of the base was, and also distinguished itself through a total lack of the smell of sawdust which permeated everywhere else around. It was the first time she had been summoned there, walking into the main hall and warming her hands at the fire for a moment before carefully fixing her hair and robes into as neat a place as possible. A few minutes of waiting by the hearth later, she was called by one of the soldiers and led into another large room, which, as it quickly became apparent, was where all the planning was done. Books of strategy stacked high, resting on the shelves, and a great big map of Northrend was laid out on the long table in the centre of the room, marked in various places by bits of blue, red, silver, purple and black cloth. She was the first of those invited to arrive, and found herself left alone with her own thoughts for a few minutes. After that time – which she had passed with a curious skim over as many of the tomes as she could manage, which, naturally for her, turned out to be quite a few – she was joined by Issha, who was perfectly, exactly, on time. That had been Twilight’s experience of night elves, in fact. The twins she had in her platoon could be airy and flighty, but yet had never once been late for a meeting or other such engagement… which was more than she could say for certain others who had joined the platoon… which included, at times, some of her own girls. Issha had been a soldier before, a sentinel in her people's military. It was clear in the way she carried herself, the assertiveness she spoke with and the assurance with which she walked. What exactly had prompted her to take the opportunity to transfer over to the Stormwind Army was something she never talked about. They chatted a little while to while away the time, catching up on the events of the day – Twilight’s morning mayhem against Issha’s lunch-interrupting batch of (un)lively Scourge. “Do be careful on your next one.” Issha cautioned at one point, “They sent a crypt lord in today. The first we’ve seen, but I am sure they will use them again now. It took a great deal of fire and radiance to kill, and it must have crushed four of our vanguard to death before Justicar Celeste managed to finish it.” She was always happy to offer tips, hints and help, to the point it made the mage regret not trying to reach out aboard the icebreaker, even accounting for their packed shipboard training schedules. A little… a little like Princess Cadance. Enough that her presence alone could Twilight smile, but hurt a little too. At last, just as their conversation came to a convenient mid-point, the door creaked open and another figure eased himself into the room. Oddly, though, for Valiance, this man was clearly not a soldier. He wore stitched black trousers and a monocle in front of one of his black eyes, which glinted softly as it reflected the firelight. He seemed not to walk across the room so much as glide, given how little noise his boots made with every step upon the ground. “Ah, ladies,” he murmured. His voice was surprisingly soft for his weathered appearance; melodic, almost… beguiling. “It is good that you were both able to join me here.” “Counselor Talbot,” Issha nodded, having clearly encountered the man before. “I hope you are well.” “As well as can be expected, my dear.” the man sighed. “This northern air does not agree with me. The price paid by those who suffer the curse of advancing age, I am afraid. And you,” he addressed Twilight, studying and appraising her for a moment, and then smiled. “I do not believe we have met, Lieutenant Sparkle. My name is Talbot. I provide counsel for General Arlos… when he chooses to listen.” He extended his worn hand. “It’s nice to meet you,” she replied, taking it with her own and finding his to be surprisingly warm. “We had best get started.” He gestured to the chairs. “I’m afraid the General is too busy to join us in person – for today, I represent him here – and Captain Dale commands the defence of the walls.” So Arlos hasn’t been planning, this whole time? What could he be up to instead? Twilight couldn’t help but wonder. Perhaps it was not her place to question the whims of generals, but… “I have only one matter for your attention today,” Talbot continued, and as you may have guessed, it concerns your assignments.” He produced two wax-sealed scrolls from his pocket, cracked one open and began to read. “Second Lieutenant Twilight Sparkle, you—” This time when the door opened, it did not ease – it burst. The sound and the force cut off the quiet counselor immediately, followed by a prolonged silence at the appearance of the armoured figure who had pushed it open. He too eased his way through the door, only in his case it was because his size prevented him from entering the room normally. A draenei. One of her mages was also a male draenei, but he was nowhere near as imposing as the one who stood before her now. The armour aided a great deal in that impression, both in its size and the shimmering light it radiated from his shoulders and his chest plate, the illumination casting his face into a pale blue. “Counselor Talbot,” he thundered, in exactly the kind of accent and tone Twilight had guessed he would use. It was harsh, almost guttural, but understandable nonetheless. “Why was I not called to this gathering?!” The man’s demeanour changed in a heartbeat. “I am quite certain I had a messenger sent to you.” he said, in a way that suggested the exact opposite. “I doubt it.” the draenei shot back. “The first troop orders for the reinforcements since the last wave, and you choose not to include me?” “You are not part of the command structure of this base. You are not part of the Stormwind Army. You do not have the right, nor my permission, to stay, Harbinger Vurenn.” The draenei drew himself up to his full height, a good seven feet at least. “Permission is not yours to give or take, Counselor. The General himself permitted my soldiers and I leave to remain here, and made clear that I was to attend all strategy and command meetings in an advisory capacity.” “Then by all means,” Talbot glared, sweeping his hand out towards an empty chair at the table, “Advise.” Twilight stared on, befuddled at the level of vitriol apparently present between the two. What bad blood could possibly exist between them, what could they be arguing over that had soured them so? Didn’t they both share the same goal, of defeating the Lich King? Vurenn sat down, the chair creaking under his weight. Still looking at Talbot, however, Twilight was suddenly struck by the look in the man’s eyes. Where previously she had only seen kindness, or at least mildness, there was now hatred, disgust, and… hunger? The moment passed, and she was left wondered if she had imagined it. A trick of the firelight, perhaps. The counselor shuffled his papers and cleared his throat. “Lieutenant Twilight Sparkle,” he began again. “You are charged with leading your platoon safely to the edge of the Borean Tundra, into the Dragonblight, there to link up with Alliance forces under the overall command of Highlord Bolvar Fordragon.” She had barely a second to process this information before the Harbinger next to her erupted out of his seat. “Preposterous, Counselor!” he exclaimed. “An entire company was lost three weeks ago, seeking to fulfill the same objective. That path—” “—is not safe.” Talbot interrupted. “But we have received,” he continued, addressing Twilight once more, “fresh intelligence of a new route that will be. It is not our intent to throw more lives into a position where others have already been lost – not without good cause. But this information is reliable and trustworthy, and regardless, these orders come down all the way from the top." Vurenn leaned across the table and snatched the scroll out of the man’s hands. He read them quickly, then sat back down, a frown set deeply across his face. “You will receive a full mission brief in paper form after this meeting concludes. If you subsequently have any further questions, you may direct them to me and I shall pass them on to General Arlos for further consideration. Bearing this in mind, have you any questions now?” She thought for a moment, then shook her head. “No, counselor.” She knew she would have some later, upon reading the full brief, but for now there was no point wasting his time when the answers would come with just a modicum of patience. “Excellent.” he said, then turned his head to regard her fellow officer. “Issha Duskwind, you are charged with leading your platoon to assist the gnomes at Fizzcrank Airport, to the north, who appear to have encountered some difficulty in securing the area. Expect to encounter resistance in the form of the Scourge, the Blue Dragonflight, local wildlife, and quite possibly the Horde as well.” “Yes, counselor.” Issha acknowledged grimly. Talbot paused, perhaps expecting another objection from Vurenn, but the draenei remained silent, and instead fixed him with a gaze full of undisguised contempt. He stood, said, “Very well, then. That concludes our business today. You will depart in two week's time, and until then your duties shall continue as normal. Good luck with the trials ahead of you.” and hobbled from the room, without another look at the draenei. Issha smiled a friendly goodbye to Twilight, nodded at the harbinger, stood and left the room also. Twilight moved to follow her, but found that someone blocked her way. “A word, please, mage.” Vurenn sighed. “Of course, harbinger.” she politely replied. Only now did she have the opportunity to study him properly, without the counselor and the tension between them present in the room. Of all the races of the Alliance she had encountered before, the draenei seemed the furthest set apart, the most… alien. Perhaps because they had only just joined the Alliance, a year or two before. Perhaps because they were literally from another world. And yet, no matter how different he was, there was no mistaking the concern in his eyes, set behind an unearthly glimmer in a way that was otherwise no different from any human, night elf, gnome or dwarf. “What can I do for you?” she asked. He clasped his hands. “You can watch your back. Yours and the soldiers you command. There is something foul afoot in this keep, but alas, I have made no progress towards uncovering it. “General Arlos sits in seclusion somewhere inside these walls, having not addressed his men in person for weeks. I have a squad of my people, waiting at the ready to assist where they can… but our services are always refused, by Talbot or one of his proxies. And…the fate of those we send off into the wastes is often unclear, but some simply never make it to their destination… which is why I am particularly concerned for you.” She wasn’t sure his fears were entirely justified. Certainly, she could see why he would be worried about anyone venturing outside the safety of the walls – some nights her sleep suffered from her mind playing on those very same thoughts - but the way he spoke, he seemed assured that there was something more to the misfortune of her predecessors. Something, he seemed to be driving at, linked to Talbot? She didn’t see it. The counselor hadn’t come across any different to her than any other person she had met in this world or her own – quite personable, if anything. She said, “I appreciate and share your concerns, and I swear that I will look out for those under my command. We’ll undertake our mission to the very best of our abilities, and I’ll make sure that we all come out of it safely. You have my word on that.” Vurenn nodded. It wasn’t clear from his reaction whether or not he knew that she wasn’t entirely convinced. “Stay safe, mage. May the light watch over you.” “Thank you, harbinger. The same to you.”