By the time their collective hangovers had subsided to mere light sensitivity and dull, throbbing headaches a new mission briefing had arrived in the quarters they shared. The soft scraping of the parchment being pushed under the door was impossibly loud and even before Leda opened her eyes she knew the rest of the 43rd were now awake as well.
“WHERE – “ Emilei winced and after a moment spent with her eyes squeezed shut, began again in an almost inaudible whisper, “Where are we off to now?”
Doogie’s bunk was closest to the door and the boney shadow of her arm was visible against the blinding light seeping in around the door jamb. In the corner of the room, a faint Clothilde-sounding groan broke the silence. Doogie began to read aloud in her raspy voice, thankfully barely audible as well. “The 43rd Division of Thrall’s standing army, currently stationed in Venomspite, will relocate to the Isle of Quel’Danas, effective immediately. We move out at 0600 hours. That’s in... Son of a lich! That’s in less than 10 minutes!”
The frantic, clumsy chaos that commenced was the stuff of which legends were made. Limbs – furry, boney, pink and fleshy were everywhere as everyone tried to sort their belongings, stuffing them in backpacks of various colours and sizes. They had only been “resting” in Dalaran for mere hours but thankfully they hadn’t fully unpacked yet.
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As per usual, the 43rd was expected to provide their own transportation as resources were in short supply these days. Not even defeating Arthas’ right-hand lich was enough to get you a free ride anywhere.
Leda could see her breath hanging in the cold morning air and shivered, rubbing her arms to keep the frost from forming on her fur. Only the Forsaken soldiers in their little platoon had joined her on the deck of The Silver Dawn. Doogie and Em were currently playing a game of dice which appeared to require exorbitant amounts of talking, gesturing and occasionally, jumping – mostly on Em’s part.
In the east, the sun was beginning to rise. Scarlet seemed to seep into the lavender sky and the world was bathed in its crimson light. Their shadows were long and Leda’s cloak snapped around her ankles as she raised a hand to shade her eyes. The trip wasn’t a long one – an hour or two perhaps. The ship wasn’t the fastest they’d ever encountered, but it was free, after all. Her hooves clunked on the wooden deck as Leda made her way over to the railing. With her elbows resting on the rail, she watched the water spraying up beneath them.
“Beautiful isn’t it?” Seishougen’s easy smile greeted her. The tall elf mirrored her own position, however, he was watching the sunrise instead of the water below. His red robe fluttered and cracked around him, the temperature had dropped even further and they were all hungover, but Seishougen’s smile remained.
Leda merely grunted in response. She hadn’t been watching, mostly due to the pounding headache she’d woken up with. “Why aren’t you down there with the others? Aren’t you cold?” She gestured at the thin silk, likely worn more for its aesthetic appeal rather than any kind of utility.
“Hm..? Oh, I’ve been sailing with Father since I could walk. As soon as you can’t see Silvermoon anymore, the weather reverts back to what it should be. Considering its late August, this isn’t the coldest I’ve ever experienced. Once we get closer to Quel’Danas, it’ll start to warm up again.”
Leda nodded. By now, Seis would be used to her conversational skills. He took this opportunity to comb his fingers through his jet black hair, arranging it around his shoulders. The Tauren at his side rolled her eyes, her own mane whipping around her head. A yell came from the dice game behind them. It sounded like Em had lost.
“There ya are, Sport!” The Tauren and the mage spun around. “Been lookin’ all over fer ya! An’ who’s this? A lady friend? Why didn’t you say so, Sei-monkey? Well, c’mon, introduce your dear ol’ Dad!”
“Uh... Dad, no this,” Seishougen sighed, he seemed to accept his father’s assessment of the situation and didn’t deny it. “Dad, this is General Leda Savagedawn. Technically my commanding officer, but we don’t really follow any hierarchy, in practice. And Leda this is Captain Thoribas An’telas, my Father.”
“Thank you so much for taking us to the Isle. It’s saved us a great deal of trouble and gold.”
“Oh it’s nothing! Especially fer Seis’ lady. I been hopin’ he’d settle down soon, give up this soldierin’ business and make me sum grandbabies!” Leda smirked. Seishougen’s face was redder than the sunrise behind him and the elf resolutely refused to meet her eyes.
“Dad...” he whined, rather unattractively Leda thought.
“Ah, none of that then. What’ve they got you doin’ out here on the Isle? It’s mostly deserted now that the Well is back up again.”
“I suspect it’s mostly guard duty. We are scheduled for a more... relaxing assignment this time around.”
“Guard duty! Fantastic! That’ll give you two lovebirds lots of time to get to ‘know each other’ better.” He winked, “I’m expecting grandelves by this time next year son! Although I’m not sure how...” the Captain trailed off, looking her up and down, his brow furrowed in confusion. “To each his own, I suppose!” He chuckled and slapped Seis on the back, who in turn tried to both cough and deny everything at the same time and managed neither.
Thankfully for the mage’s sanity, they were pulling into the Isle’s harbour. The weather had warmed significantly in the last few minutes and the rest of their platoon were making their way above deck.
“Oh look! Springtime in August!” Cloe giggled. Apparently not even a massive hangover could stop her. After thanking the Captain again, the 43rd disembarked and headed for the barracks.
The eternal springtime of the Isle was unsettling. The birds chirped, the air was perfumed with fresh, new flowers and it felt wrong. Her first day of guard duty, Leda was given a Shattered Sun tabard and a post on the left hand side of a doorway. Rene was stationed to the right hand side, but it hardly mattered because guards didn’t chat amongst themselves during duty. Leda supposed they made a funny pair, guarding this one doorway. Ren was on the small side. Mind you, to Leda everyone was on the small side. For an elf, Ren was taller than most. In fact, she was taller than Seishougen. Her ornate bow was slung over her back and somehow, even the mail she wore into battle managed to match. The black eye she’d been sporting since last evening (courtesy of Leda’s elbow, some uncomfortable pauldrons and too small tavern tables) had healed a bit and was merely a deep purple.
Sighing, Leda resumed the position, face forward, passive expression, standing at attention with her staff out in front. It was almost noon now. The Tauren woman constantly struggled to keep a passive expression. Every time a butterfly would float by, a sneer would appear. Every time a rosy cheeked adventurer ran though their doorway to report their kills, a sneer would appear. Every time an enchanted broom entered her line of sight, a sneer would appear. Doogie and Iyo had been stationed across the square and she could see Doogie’s expression occasionally matching her own, but Iyo was hidden behind the memorial statue.
By mid-afternoon, she gave up on her expression, settling for a menacing snarl. Her hooves began to hurt after standing for so long. As a soldier, she was expected to stand on two feet, however, during their assignment in Venomspite, a four-legged approach was usually more necessary. Her tail kept tickling the backs of her knees. Her arm hurt from holding her staff up for so long. The tabard was hot and there was a bug buzzing in her ear. In short, guard duty was awful.
They were relieved by the 82nd in the early evening, just as dusk settled. A gruff looking Tauren male with a long, beaded fu manchu nodded to her and Leda gratefully stepped aside. Their evening meal was silent except for seven sets of dishes clinking against one another. Just as before, they squished onto one small table in the mess hall, despite being the only ones currently using it. The chatter began shortly after Emilei set down his utensils.
“So where were you guys? They put me over by the mailbox. I got to see people go mail their stuff. It was really hard to stand still that long. Poll: Forks or knives? I think I like knives better. Sometimes when I’m guarding pillars I think about knives.”
“I think it’s a good thing you’re undead, because if you were alive you’d have passed out from lack of air by now,” Ren smirked and cut into the crust of her manaberry pie.
“I don’t know about the rest of you, but this guard duty gig... This is tougher than clearing out Naxxramas,” Doogie leaned in and lowered her voice, “I mean, standing around all day, looking straight ahead, no talking, no laughing – nothing! This is just... This isn’t us. What is with this lame assignment?”
“Someone high up probably thought they were doing us a favour, someone who clearly has never had to do guard duty.” Seishougen had now also moved onto dessert and was giving his pie his full attention.
“It isn’t so bad! I got to look at a very well tended flower bed all day. And I think I might’ve heard music coming from the next building, but I can’t be sure. But the flowers sure were pretty!” Cloe giggled and neatly set her fork and knife across her empty plate.
“I think you could be stationed in a garbage heap and you’d still find something good about it Cloe,” Ren poked the little priest, who squeaked in reply.
“Well I don’t think they’re gonna post our feathered friend on guard duty any longer,” Doogie glanced over at Iyo, who was currently reading at the table, his food untouched. “He read that damn book the entire time. Raised a lot of brows that did.” Leda cringed. She hadn’t been able to see Iyo all day; he had been behind the memorial statue. Although, she reflected, a reprimand was unlikely to fall on his shoulders. He would be reassigned in the morning. The rest of them would be back to their doorways and mailboxes for another mind numbing 10 hours of guard duty.
Leda pursed her lips and pushed Iyo’s plate towards him. “Eat something,” she mumbled and leant back in her chair as he acquiesced.
“First day of guard duty huh?” Seven heads and five pairs of eyes turned to see their first colleague stroll in. “You’ll get used to it, we all do.” The overgrown Tauren approached their little table, his hooves clopping across the stone floor and his eyes glowing a faint blue. He stopped at the end of the table with an apologetic smile on his face. “Er... I’m Sergeant Mukesh Duskweaver. I’ll be showing you around today. Should’ve given you the tour earlier, but we got a little mixed up, what with you all outranking Legionnaire Sal’andrin.” He turned to leave, “C’mon, I’ll show you th- oh for Mograine’s sake!” The smallest, youngest undead Leda ever encountered peeked out from behind the Tauren’s bulk. “I told you to wait back at the barracks!” Mukesh’s tail flicked in annoyance.
“But I just wanted to meet them!” Again, his little head attempted to see around the death knight’s waist.
“And I said later!”
“It’s alright Sergeant Duskweaver,” Cloe smiled, “I mean, we’re all finished dinner and it couldn’t hurt to meet more of our um... coworkers, could it?”
“Just call me Mukesh,” he grunted, his shoulders slouching in defeat. Any manner of professionalism slipped from his form like mist from a lake. He stepped aside, revealing the little undead wearing mage robes two sizes too big. “This is Grunt Berzhula. He’s uh... a fan.”
“Omigod its akshully you!” He nearly squealed and started waving a small, dirty, threadbare flag around. It looked strangely familiar and Leda nearly groaned when she recognized the tabard they wore. “Hey look at my flag! I made it myself, d’ya likes it? Purty neat huh? I can make you one too!”
“Alright, that’s enough Berzhula,” Mukesh blushed as best a Tauren can and picked up the petite undead with one hand, setting him outside the mess hall. “I apologize, he’s been looking forward to your arrival since we heard.” Formal Mukesh was back and he bowed his head politely before beckoning them towards the start of their tour.
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“I can’t believe you Iyo! Reading while on duty! You know better than that!” Leda stomped around the barracks in between rows of bunk beds, her hands balled up into fists in her frustration. “Honestly, what is so important that you couldn’t put it down for a few hours?!”
Iyo was silent sitting on the bottom bunk, no doubt only waiting for more time to read his book. He perked up after hearing his sister’s last question, missing the point entirely, “It’s fascinating! I managed to translate the dialect of Draenei in only a few hours. The book contains several old Draenei myths, dating back thousands of years! There’s one here about this old weapon, activated by a song – brilliant! And then –“ his face fell, seeing Leda’s furious expression. “But that’s not what you meant, is it?”
“No, it wasn’t. You’ll be lucky if you aren’t punished.” She glared daggers at him, “Get some sleep, we’ll have another long day tomorrow.” With a sigh, her brother grabbed his book and managed to hoist himself up into the top bunk. It would be lights out in another ten minutes, but Leda doubted Iyo would get any sleep – he was only halfway through the book.
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Breakfast was just as luxurious as dinner the night before had been. Yogurt with fresh fruit, the hot goopy oatmeal Doogie preferred, Ren and Em were scarfing down waffles in between phrases of a song dedicated to the aforementioned breakfast food, even Iyo had set down his book (carefully marking his place) to enjoy a bowl of sickeningly sweet cereal.
“Ah! That hit the spot.” Seishougen sighed, leaning back in his chair, “I haven’t had a fresh breakfast in weeks! I don’t think I’ve ever had a better omelette.”
“Try this, Bro!” From the other end of the table, Emilei wound up and tossed a syrup-drenched waffle in the elf’s direction. Seishougen (being forewarned) easily ducked. But Leda was sitting behind him squinting at the weird shapes on the front of Iyo’s book, attempting to form them into shapes. The syrup-y mess made a disgusting ‘splat’ as it connected with the side of her head and echoed in the now silent mess hall. With a calculating grin, she grabbed the spoon from Doogie’s hand, took a big scoop of lumpy, sticky porridge and pulled the top of the spoon back like a catapult.
“But but but –“ Em stammered, “I love you Leda’buh-“ Oatmeal splattered all over the side of her face, landing in a disgusting mess on the front of her new tabard. “Now look what you’ve started!” The rogue gestured at Seishougen’s too-innocent look.
“What?” he chuckled, “I wasn’t about to do anything, go back to your breakfast...” And with suspicious glances, they did, only to hear Doogie yelp a moment later.
“Oh god! Its slimey! In my... eugh its in my armour!” The entire table burst out laughing and only once the hysterics faded to slight chuckles (and several holding their sides) did Ren manage to speak up.
“What – what was it Sei?” she began chuckling again. His grin was almost manic.
“A banan- AH!” The elf screamed and jumped out of his seat before wiggling around the room, clutching at his midnight blue robe. “Guys! AH! Which one of yo-Oh god, it’s cold!” All eyes turned to the person sitting on Seis’s other side, but the blonde priest just smirked and shrugged. As innocently as possible, a half-melted ice cube skitted across the floor from underneath the mage’s silk robes.
And then the ground shook.
Everything seemed to happen at once. A fireball landed nearby and a blast of heat nearly singed Leda’s fur. A tree landed on the roof of the mess hall, caving in the western corner. There was shouting everywhere, half-dressed elves and sleepy trolls ran past the open doorway. The Isle was entirely unprepared for such an attack; in all honesty, it was unprepared for any attack. A large Tauren slipped into the hall, still pulling his gauntlets on over his dark fur. He grabbed a large fruit platter and flung the leftover grapes onto the floor before wrapping some bandages around it to create a makeshift shield.
“We’re under attack General, what do we do?” It was Mukesh, his voice a little muffled from under the plate helm.
“What’s happened? Who’s attacking?”
“Not important Cloe. C’mon, we’ll make a dash for the armoury – it isn’t far!” Leda grunted, her eyes swiftly scanning the supplies in the mess hall, but finding nothing of use. “There’s nothing in here, we’ll need our weapons.”
It was hot outside. They darted between trees on fire, trees no longer standing and the remains of what used to be walls. Around them soldiers of various races and professions rushed past, clumped in twos and threes and heading toward the Sunwell. A flaming boulder the size of a kodo crashed into the tower behind them, its spire completely destroying the mess hall they had left seconds earlier.
“Uh General Savagedawn, I think we should ... probably... MOVE!” Mukesh had been covering the rear, Leda followed his gaze, only to see an Infernal uncurling itself from the rubble of the doorway. The death knight easily pushed Cloe aside, “Go on! I’ll hold it off.” The Tauren reached back for his axe, the black blade glowed an eerie purple in the morning light as he turned to face the demon.
The 43rd darted toward what used to be the armoury, jumping over corpses and charred skeletons on their way. Grimly, she recognized their positions – guarding doorways and mailboxes – they would`ve been the soldiers that the 43rd relieved from duty this morning. And it was from these bodies that nearly two dozen ghouls clawed their way up onto the earth. “Mukesh!” Leda called, “Behind you! Scourge!”
But the Tauren didn’t turn, single-mindedly swinging away at the thighs of the Infernal. The ghouls raced towards Mukesh, hopping and tripping over one another in their eagerness. Several scaled his broad shoulders, one bracing itself on his helm and Leda looked away, unable to watch the death of a colleague. When she didn`t hear his anguished scream a half-second later, the General looked back. Yes, scourge were still climbing up his body, but instead of ripping off his helmet and plucking out his eyes, the ghouls were using his helm as a springboard. They landed and clung onto the demon`s limbs, torso and head, scratching and gnawing at its rocky hide. Again and again the death knight wound up, hacking into the Infernal and Leda could hear fel energy hissing in the wind as it dissipated.
Mukesh caught up with her easily and a little out of breath. Behind him, the ghouls were celebrating on the remains of the demon, jumping on its corpse and waving their skinny arms in the air.
By the time the two Tauren made it to the armoury, Seishougen had easily located his staff, as had Cloe. The glow their weapons emitted was unmistakeable even in the rubble. The rest of the 43rd had to scrounge up what they could and mismatched pieces of leather, cloth and plate hung off of various members. With a soft growl, Leda shifted into her preferred form, the painful transformation served well to clear her head from the chaos which surrounded them. As the pain subsided, she could hear Doogie drilling Mukesh for information.
“Where did the attack originate? Has anyone announced themselves? Who are we dealing with here?”
“Ma’am, it started at the Sunwell. There was... an explosion I guess. A big bright light. Then it started. The fireballs, I mean.”
“C’mon, let’s move. Leda, up front, they won’t expect you to be here and you’re shorter,” Doogie barked. The General only glared before standing up on her hind legs, nearly 4 feet above the Forsaken’s head. “Ya, ya no time for showing off! Let’s go.”
“Wait!” The tiny undead from the day before came running out from behind the next building, dragging a large wooden plank.
Mukesh sighed, slamming his palm into his face, “Berzhula! Damn it all! What are you doing? I told you to get to the tower!”
“I’m sorry I only managed to save one piece.” The bottom half of the undead’s face started to quiver, much like a child about to cry, “Although I’m glad it was this one...” The mage grabbed onto the large bit of wood, turning it around for the rest to see. It was Doogie’s shield. The favourite one in her collection, found in Zul’Aman so long ago. She didn’t say anything, just grabbed the shield, strapped it on and gruffly turned toward the Sunwell.
“Let’s go. Can’t waste anymore time.”
“What?! You can’t go in there. Everyo-everyone’s dead in there,” the mage stammered.
“Dragonhawks.” Iyo’s deep voice, currently at odds with his moonkin form, provided the solution. “If we get on the dragonhawks, we can both bomb our attacker and find out his or her identity.” Doogie merely nodded and turned toward the stables.
There wasn’t a sign of any movement as they got closer to the Sunwell. Corpses lay scattered along the paths, the smell of charred flesh hung heavy in the air. It was eerily quiet. For an attack on a Blood Elven “stronghold” it was oddly... lacking in action. Leda urged her dragonhawk closer toward the Well, Iyo following behind, breaking off from the pack.
The Sunwell itself was still intact, no doubt to be used by whoever intended to control it. The complex surrounding it, however, hardly looked of Blood Elf origin anymore. Trees were on fire, knocked over or uprooted. Bodies lay helter skelter across the beautiful marble, it’s great, red swirling designs pock marked with charred holes. A triumphant chuckle surrounded them, echoing off the water and the nearby cliffs. From behind a rampart rose the all too familiar form of Kil’jaeden, his lips stretched into a grin.
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