My Little Naaru: Warcraft is Magic

by Freescript the Bard

Temper of the Prophet

---

“It is indeed of elvish origin,” Elunedra concluded, examining the roots that arched over the cascading pink-tinted magical energy, meeting at the top to form the base of a great tree. “However, the magic is not the same used on the portal connecting Rut’theran and Darnassas. This one is arcane in nature and...” Her hand brushed the roots again. The druid’s eyes widened in awe. “This tree is old... impossibly old... older even than Nordrassil was...”

Vyncerin paced anxiously in a wide circle around the tree, which was being examined by Jazla, Mebrin, and Elunedra. The company of eight had arrived at the small island after a day’s sailing from the port of Valiance Keep and set up a small encampment. They immediately set to work examining the tree with every method available, from the mundane examination of the soil in which it grew, to the magical inspection of the portal itself.

Mebrin paused in his study of the energy itself. “Unfortunately, she’s correct,” the blood elf reported. “The workings of the spell are ancient. I would go so far as to say it predates the schism in the elvish races. This tree and the portal within were likely created by the Highbourne before the Sundering.”

“So it’s a damned old tree,” Apse spat from his seat near the camp. The dwarf reclined and let out a harrumph. “Can we skip to the important bit?”

“Every detail counts, dwarf,” Mebrin reminded the hunter. “Even the trivial ones.”

Apse rolled his eyes. “Why don’t we just have a stroll through and see what’s on the other side? What’s the harm in it?”

“Because, moron,” Nixaera growled from the opposite side of the camp. “We want to be sure we can stroll back out. If it’s really as old as they say it is, the sister portal may not even be standing. We would walk right into oblivion, our atoms scattered into dust within the cold between spaces.” She settled back into her seat and resumed reading her book. “From what I’ve heard, being ripped apart for eternity is less than enjoyable.”

With a frightened look, the dwarf put a hand to his forehead. “Sorry I asked, then.”

Vyncerin sighed dejectedly at the morbidity of the death knight, however true it was. The paladin continued his pacing, but paused at the spot Mebrin was working from. “Is it possible to determine if the portal is safe or not?” he asked the warlock.

“We could always throw the dwarf in and see if he comes back,” the elf laughed quietly as Vyncerin inwardly groaned. “In a more serious mood, without proper equipment, there is no way to know through magical means. If we had a exo-dimensional leyline probe, we could not only detect if there was a sister portal, but also discover if the destination is environmentally safe.”

Vyncerin only needed a glance at their meager equipment to know that their variety did not include such a highly-specialized piece of arcane equipment. However, his gaze lingered longer on the crates marked with the crest of Gnomergan or the various goblin trade cartels. “Perhaps if magic can’t help,” the paladin muttered. “Technology can.” He turned back toward the camp. “Sherrise!”

There was a tug on the human’s cloak. “I’m right here,” the gnome priest said from below his eye height. “I couldn’t help overhearing that you needed a probe of some kind?”

Gesturing to the crates of supplies, Vyncerin nodded. “We need something that can determine if what’s on the other end of this portal is safe... or if there is another side at all,” he explained. “Could you see what you can scrape together from our equipment?”

“Can do, boss!” Sherrise gave a small salute and scampered over to the crates.

Mebrin watched the gnome curiously. “A divine engineer?” the elf mused. “If this is true, then I have truly seen everything.”

“Believe you me, elf,” Vyncerin said, moving away to continue his pacing. “Even after several years of service with that gnome, she will continue to surprise me until the day I die.”

Nixaera’s log,

Seven days after the defeat of the Lich King

Sherrise is a very talented gnome. As both a battle healer and an adept engineer, she has played an invaluable role in the campaign against the Lich King. Alone, she kept our small band of five alive against an ambush numbering several dozen Scourge soldiers, and still had enough of a magical font to revive Apse’s wolf, who had fallen in the fray. On the front of technology, she has several patented inventions, including a mechanical water siphon that purified the water with holy magic. I have no doubt she can create just the device we require.

The blood elf continues to be a constant worry for me. In my experience with the Burning Legion aboard the Exodar, anything that demons touch, even remotely, is destined to be corrupted by the foul will of the Legion. This elf may not appear to be such a danger, but his descent into demonic madness is inevitable. I’m certain of it.

It was a mistake to bring him. Those who command dark powers are not to be trusted.

---

“Finally,” Arthas groaned. “Civilization.”

As their journey reached it’s fourth day, the two companions sighted two small stone towers, apparently on either side of the path. Arthas began to make out small details as they approached, such as figures moving between the parapets and an arched stone bridge over the path that connected the towers. The stone-gray stallion felt his pace pick up, eager to reach the towers. Medivh simply matched his pace, allowing himself a small chuckle at Arthas’ enthusiasm.

Enthusiasm that quickly fell when Arthas was near enough to see a dozen equine quadrupeds dressed in golden armor lining the path with various weapons at their sides. Their gazes were nervous and wary, as if they were expecting something to go awry. Arthas slowed his pace, advancing more cautiously. These were guards that had recently had a negative encounter, and were likely to be less than friendly to himself and Medivh.

“Is something the matter, Arthas?” Medivh asked from beside him. “Not a moment ago you seemed very eager to finally see other ponies.”

Ponies... Arthas mulled over the word. It was familiar, but he could not remember where he had heard it. “I have a bad feeling about this,” he voiced. “Those guards up there look to be on edge. Is there something dangerous around here?”

“Oh, undoubtedly!” chirped the maroon stallion in an uncharacteristically joyful tone. “I’m surprised we weren’t jumped by bandits earlier; this road is infamous for being raided by brigands. Thankfully, it isn’t trade season, and what do we have worth stealing, eh?”

Arthas was gave the smaller stallion a surprised look. “It didn’t occur to you to mention this to me at some point!?”

“I didn’t think it was important.” Medivh continued on, leaving Arthas behind a few paces as the gray stallion hesitated in dumbstruck shock. “Besides, we encountered nothing of ill intent, so why worry about something that didn’t happen?”

Shaking himself of his perplexed state, Arthas quickened his pace to catch up to Medivh. “I still think you’re absolutely mad.”

“Well... you aren’t wrong.”

“Halt! Who goes there?”

The pair froze as two halberds crossed in front of their path. They had been too occupied with their own colloquy, the three guards that had walked out to meet them went completely unnoticed. While Medivh remained unfazed by the sudden blockade, the sharpness of the guard’s voice caught him suddenly, and his hooves skidded a few inches when he stopped just short of the polearm weapon.

The guard that had spoken was on the opposite side of the halberd barricade, looking the pair up and down. “I said, who goes there!?” he repeated.

“Yes, yes, we heard you the first time,” replied Medivh cheerily, as if he was having a perfectly normal conversation. “My name is Magus Secret Keeper, and this large fellow at my side is my personal bodyguard, Stonewall. We are traveling this road, and would very much like to pass, if you please.”

Arthas gave Medivh a confused glance. Why didn’t he use our names?

“A magus? Really?” the white-coated guard said, not sounding very convinced. “So, ‘sir magus,’ exactly where are you bound?”

Medivh made a noise that sounded like he had been struck. “I hardly think that is any business of yours, ‘Sir Shieldhoof,’” Medivh scoffed, putting a dripping jeer on the name, despite the fact that it was previously unmentioned. The unicorn’s face held a cold expression, one that betrayed a wrathful mood. “I think, if you had any sense, you would allow us passage, before you regret hindering our progress.”

A rustling sound from the trees overhead foretold to Arthas that the wind was picking up, and continued to intensify at an unnaturally rapid rate. He glanced around, suddenly very skittish. If the three guards noticed the change, they made no sign of it.

“I don’t recall telling you my name,” the guard, Shieldhoof, said with no small amount of suspicion. “Guards, take these two border-jumpers into custody. I won’t have any more of their--”

Suddenly, the air around them exploded in a wild tempest. Arthas covered his eyes with his foreleg to keep away the stray dust that buffeted him. His wispy white mane and tail flapped violently, and he had to brace himself to keep the wind from staggering his footing. What foul manner of wind is this!? he asked silently.

”I am Secret Keeper!” Medivh’s voice thundered with impossible volume. ”Magus of the Raven, the Prophet, the Last Guardian, the Accursed! You WILL let us pass, or face my unrelenting wrath!”

As fast as the tempest came, the wind calmed and died to a stop. Arthas lowered his foreleg to see that the three guard-ponies had dropped their halberds and were looking at Medivh with looks of pure shock and horror. In truth, he too felt wary of the maroon stallion, despite being his companion. There was a power about the short-tempered ‘magus,’ and all present learned that this scrawny unicorn was not to be trifled with.

“Now, if you wouldn’t mind?” Medivh prompted in his normal cheery disposition. “We would like to be on our way.”

As Arthas watched the three guards scramble from their spots to clear the way, he made a note to himself not to invoke the temper of his companion.

Author's Note:

Comments and criticism are both very welcome.

Comments

[Enderstorm]

I used to play this game. Then I ran out of money. So sad.

[DarkLightDisciple]

So, Medivh is a troll...this should be interesting

[poisonicefire]

When next update

[poisonicefire]

Actually Medivh is a human

[Twilight_Nova]

4368979 In case you didn't see earlier, both Arthas and Medivh were turned into ponies - probably after their deaths. (I understand the comment is over 5 weeks old, but I feel like I need to clarify this anyways)

That aside, I really do hope that this thing continues. I mean, it's risky as all get-out, but if done correctly this could be quite interesting.

[Nanaki23]

4368979 Actually Medivh is classified as an Eternal and as he told Thrall in the prologue of Warcraft 3: "Human? I left my humanity behind a long time ago, I am... something different now."