"Is that you, Tree?"
It had been a while since he heard that nickname. Ironically, he had been given that name due to his pacifism, preferring to talk his way out of a fight, and his gifted use of nature magic to heal, spending most of his time communing with nature as a serene ent. And now? he thought as he stared at the familiar faces of his friends, fellow druids he had not seen for what seemed like a lifetime. They had met while in the employ of a blood elven House that resided in Silvermoon. During that time, Asterius had been constantly impressed by Leda's raw feral prowess, as well as her brother's instinctive mastery of the arcane gifts granted them by Elune.
"Leda, Iyo, welcome to my humble abode. I've been expecting something, although I'll admit I hadn't hoped for it to be the two of you," He snorted at the kneeling lady, whose jaw dropped as she recognized his voice. "Would you get to your feet already? You're embarrassing me, heh." He chuckled as he gestured for Iyo to enter the tattered tent.
"Asterius? You're in command here? Of this army?" Leda said in a voice so shocked that Asterius wondered if he should take offense. Instead, he only nodded.
"For the last few months. I'd heard that the two of you were spending your time locked away in the Dream... it seems like you slept through some things." The druid raised an eyebrow as he inspected the two, noting their haggard appearance, and especially the blood that matted Leda's fur. "You're wounded."
"It's just a scratch," she muttered, trying to block something from her mind. "Most of it ain't mine, anyway."
Asterius turned to Iyotanka, who gave a reassuring shrug. Leda might be stubborn enough to ignore a wound, but if either druid sibling had taken a life threatening injury, the other could be trusted to force medical attention whether it was wanted or not. So long as her brother wasn't worried, Asterius wouldn't be. Instead, he spoke up with just a slight tinge of hope coloring his voice, "You said you brought reinforcements?"
Leda nodded, but her tone was bitter. "Originally, we marched with two hundred and fifty recruits... though we lost well over half of that number during landfall."
"Your casualties were light then," her fellow General sighed, gesturing broadly to the north as he left the small canvas tent and stepped out into the dusk of morning, "I would be surprised if there was a single unit with even a third of their fighting force remaining in all of the Eastern Front. Our own numbers are barely a tenth of what we were."
"And now," Asterius said softly as he surveyed the bustle of the camp as it packed up, ready to move once more, "we are walking headlong into our enemy's greatest stronghold..."
Leda was about to reply, to confidently declare that victory was already certain, but she was cut off as an elf maiden in bloody healer's robes addressed the commander, "We've patched up the tauren newcomers as best we can."
"Everything is ready then, Leesha?" Asterius asked of his chief medic, but the priestess hesitated in responding.
"There is one problem case..." she said, gesturing for one of her assistants. Another healer, a shaman by the looks of him, led an absent-looking tauren over to the group. The young hunter was cradling his bow like a child, murmuring in a quiet voice in between fits of sobbing. "The shock of battle seems to have been too much for this one. I've seen it happen often among new recruits... the mind just... snaps."
"He grieves for his mate," Leda cut in, guilt in her voice. Asterius had felt the kind before, the overpowering burden of responsibility; it was part of being a leader. Every death of those who followed you felt like your own. He sighed and grabbed the nonsensical hunter, grasping the tauren's head between his palms.
"What are you going to do?" Iyotanka asked curiously from somewhere behind him, sensing a subtle shift of magical energy.
"We cannot have a soldier that slows us down endanger the entire division. I'm going to make it so he fights again." the General replied, closing his eyes and focusing his second sight.
"How?" Asterius sighed at his druid companion's question. Iyo knew something was different and wasn't going to let this go. It took a moment for him to reply.
"By tampering with his memories to make him forget his pain." he said simply. Leda's betrayed gasp was only moments afterwards as she realized the import of his words.
"You're going to wipe out the memories of his wife?!" she accused him, her anger building up inside as he did not deny it. "That's horrible!"
"You're mistaken, General Leda," Asterius turned toward her with cold eyes, putting emphasis on her title, though she couldn't tell whether it was mocking or simply to remind her of her duties. "What's horrible is not that I am destroying his past. What's horrible is that it's necessary that I do so."
He turned back to his patient, whose eyes were dilated and fluttering open and closed, adding before the enraged feral could interrupt, "The first thing I learned as a commander is that sometimes we must do horrible things."
"What's wrong with you, Tree? How could you accept this?! My friend wouldn't act this way!" Leda bit back, her words as wounding as a blade. Asterius faced her once more. His emotionless mask was gone, and she could see how filled with pain and sorrow his expression was.
"You don't think that I'm sickened by this, by what I am forced to do? I've already done far worse. I've ordered these men to commit atrocities. I've taken countless lives with these hands! I've gone against what I thought was just and right, because there is no justice here. This is war! There's only survival, Leda! And I know that if we want to have any hope of surviving this, it's only going to get worse." His uncaring facade returned, removing the self-doubt, the guilt, and the horror. This wasn't the face of her friend. This was the face of the General who could lead these people to victory. "If the only sacrifice necessary is that of my soul, then so be it."
"Sir?" The hunter groaned, squinting his eyes and rubbing his head as he regained consciousness. "What happened? Was I injured?"
"Just a slight head contusion, soldier. Get your gear and get ready to march." Asterius dismissed the hunter without meeting his eyes. The young recruit saluted and left the group, who stood in awkward silence. The commander of the Eastern Front began to walk away, but stopped and looked back at his fellow druids one last time. He hoped Leda wouldn't be a problem. She was new to this and the reality of conflict would be hard on her at first. At the moment, she was seething but sullen. Her mind was easy enough to understand, though; her wants simple and her thoughts direct. He knew that she would toughen up with time. Iyotanka, however, was a mystery. He looked merely intrigued by the entire ordeal. He always seemed distant, as if he were viewing the world differently than everyone else. Asterius could never be sure what was going on in the eccentric moonkin's mind and that worried him. He shook his head to clear his thoughts. He would just have to trust that everything would turn out for the best. "We welcome your reinforcements. Our destination is the enemy stronghold of Stormwind. We are going to wipe out this menace where it lives. This isn't the Emerald Dream, General. This is reality, and we're going to fight to make it ours."
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"He's changed, Iyo." Leda said to her brother. The Cairne's Horns battalion under her command were gathering around the two, not far from where the Warwalkers were breaking camp and starting the march southward. "He's not the same Tree we knew. He's... different."
Iyotanka did not reply. The bond between the twins told her that something was on his mind. "What's the matter?"
The moonkin druid shrugged and shouldered his pack. "I was just thinking that tampering with memories isn't something one learns in the Moonglade." He grinned at his sister and began to march, leaving Leda to ponder his observation. "Who says we knew him in the first place?"
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The sun had begun to set, casting its last rays across the vast expanse of water known as Loch Modan. True to his word, Asterius was bare above the belt, wading hip deep into the chilly waters while he scrubbed a month's worth of grime and blood from his fur. To the north of his position, he watched as Craghoof the runemaster began flinging large chunks of something attached to stout cords far beyond the shore, pulling the cord in only to throw the man-sized object again. A crowd of soldiers stood around him, extremely intent on Beron's odd ritual.
"Orders, Sir?" Therk stood by the druid's discarded leather armor, saluting as he threw his commander a bar of soap.
"Let's hear the report from the scouts, first... what are they doing over there?" "I... ah, believe they are fishing, sir." Asterius raised an eyebrow, regarding the huge projectile with interest. The Lieutenant cleared his throat to get the commander's attention again and continued on. "The scouts report that a pursuit force has been mounted. Apparently, despite our efforts someone managed to retain control of the human army. Vanfi'jin reports that the force is following our trail and should arrive within two days. We've scouted out a few dwarven strongholds in place nearby and should be able to avoid their attention. There is a single settlement to the south and the defenses are weak enough that we could raid it for supplies. Our sentries have encountered a few dwarven patrols and some trogg hunting parties, but nothing they couldn't handle."
The General nodded, finishing with his bathing. As he stepped out of the water, a cheer caused him to turn toward the 'fishing' party. From the waters of the lake, a massive serpentine head appeared, rope taut in its mouth. Easily three times as large as a kodo, the threshadon struggled wildly as the combined force pulled it toward shore, soldiers whooping and hollering as they jumped into the water with swords and spears to take down the massive beast.
"Looks like we're having fish tonight." Asterius laughed, clapping his Lieutenant on the back. "At least morale is high. Call the commanding officers. It's time we planned out this suicidal attack of ours."
"As you command, General," Therk replied and swiftly departed. Asterius hurried to dress. At this altitude, the air was rather brisk for his tastes. Down the coast a ways, he spied the rotund and rather pale orc Pug attempting to give his monster of a warg a bath. The shaggy warhound seemed to think it was quite fun, romping and splashing in the water, though its excited movements were half-drowning the sputtering runt. Watching the beastmaster, a thought came to the druid's mind.
"Pug!" he called, waving the soaked orc and beast over.
"Yessir?" He replied, attempting to salute and swim at the same time, coughing up some water as he did.
"Misfaran hoga gimil-lo-a-ruk, ahz Dum?" He asked quickly, hoping to catch the beastmaster off-guard.
"She's not a gimil! ...ah, crap," Pug slapped a palm to his face as he realized the trap he walked into.
"I knew it!" howled his commander, holding his sides, "Which parent?"
"Does that really matter?" Pug muttered in a worried whisper, cautious of eavesdroppers that might reveal his secret.
"I suppose not," admitted the druid, though he was still curious. "I thought you were a little odd for an orc. Come on, little halfling, we're having a meeting soon."
Still chuckling, Asterius left the beastmaster pouting in the lake, though his sulking didn't last long as his playful pup tackled him once again.
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"It's no good. Our numbers simply aren't enough." Drem Darkcloud sighed, shaking his head at the gathered group. Leaders from the individual units of the Warwalkers stared down at a crude map carved into the soft earth, each nodding their agreement.
"Then we raise our numbers." Leda scowled. She didn't feel comfortable in this circle, especially with all of the talk of failure.
"It's not that easy," Vanfi, shadow huntress and scout master replied. The Revantusk troll obviously held little regard toward the feral druid. The two glared at each other, but Asterius interrupted.
"It might just be," Asterius pointed to a far distant point on the map. "If Tempest Flight launched now, how long would it take you to reach the Stonard outpost?"
"A day at most, maybe less if we push our wyverns." Drem said hesitantly. It was not often that his combat mounts were called to fly for any longer than a single battle, but desperate times called for desperate measures.
"Then do so. Call them into battle, have the entire outpost ride to the gates of Stormwind. We can use their numbers for our own."
"You would lose our fighting power. Can the division last in combat without air support?" Darkcloud countered worriedly, "When they catch up to you, that alliance army won't hesitate to attack. The enemy gryphons would tear you apart."
"We'll manage. Right now those reinforcements are more important." The General replied, absentmindedly adding, "I've got an idea about those pesky followers, anyway... How many mounts do we have? I mean everything; Wargs, stolen horses, kodos... anything that could leave a trail that a blind man could follow."
"Umm... I think we gots about enough mounts for maybe three hundred troops, if yer counting wagons too, General, sir." Pug spoke up. The little orc had recently been promoted to head of the mounted division. Though he was uncomfortable with it, he seemed to manage just fine.
"Then we send those forces south into the Badlands. Mounted and with the supply wagons, they should leave a big enough trail that the humans can't possibly ignore them. Our main force will lose our access to supplies, true, but if we travel quickly enough we should be able to make do with what we can carry."
"That's a large force, sir," Therk mentioned, uneasy with the idea, "Almost a third of our force. Who will command them?" Asterius almost seemed surprised at the question. "You will, of course, Lieutenant. As invaluable as your help is to me, your skills are needed elsewhere." He gestured to another spot on the map, deep within the Badlands. "There is an outpost there... uh, Kargath, I think the name is. Gather as many as you can and head southward to Stormwind. Meet up with Drem when you get the chance."
"How do we cross the mountains? There are no known passes between the Badlands and the Burning Steppes."
"There is one, but it's risky." He traced a path through the Searing Gorge. "The Dark Iron dwarves have a stronghold nestled within the Blackrock mountains. The dwarves themselves tend to stay within the deeper parts of the confines of their spire, so you should be able to pass through without notice."
Therk grinned, asking in an innocent tone. "Why would we not want to be noticed? If we make a big enough racket as we pass through, they might come out to see what the commotion is... and if they just so happen to encounter the humans when they do..."
The General snorted and rolled his eyes, "You have a wicked sense of humor, Lieutenant, but that's an excellent idea. I'll leave the Southern Force in your capable hands."
The Swiftblood orc nodded and turned to leave, with Drem on his heels. "We'll raid the settlements as we pass to make ourselves a bigger target, sir. Try not to get yourself caught."
"Just so long as you're outside the gates ready to cover our retreat, I don't mind if you stop to do a little shopping. Have fun with your command, Therk."
The General turned back to his dwindling circle of commanders. "Now for the fun part. While the enemy army is hot on Therk's heels, we need to get into Stormwind. Conveniently, there's a nearby entrance we can exploit..."
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"You're crazy." Leda whispered through chattering teeth. Even with her own fur and leather armor, she felt the biting chill of the snow. With no small sense of relief, she shifted into her preferred ursine form, whose thick pelt was immune to even the icy sting of the howling wind.
"It's the fastest way to Stormwind, and time is of the essence right now," Asterius replied, defending his sanity. Snow had already piled around his body, though he had been lying on this hill for only a few minutes. Another quarter of an hour would see him completely covered in a blanket of white.
"You're crazy," Vanfi agreed. Though the two ladies held nothing in common save a love of battle, they agreed at least on this occasion. The troll, however, seemed to weather the cold better than her tauren nemesis, due to the frigid temperatures of the winters of the Hinterlands where she was raised.
"We're cut off from the ocean by impassable mountains, so an invasion by sea is out of the question, and we simply haven't the firepower for a full-scale assault on their gates." The druid said, casting a hurt look toward his troop commanders, fishing for support.
"You're crazy, General, sir," Pug muttered mournfully, snuggled up next to his warhound for warmth. He was wearing a parka with a hood so thick that only the frostbitten tip of his nose could be seen.
"We'll have the element of surprise! Their guards will never see us coming." The General said enthusiastically, though he had abandoned his hope of having anyone on his side. He looked encouragingly to the priestess Leesha, but she only sighed and shook her head.
"You're crazy, and that's my professional opinion," was her only response as she struggled through the snowbanks with her slender frame, alabaster skin even paler than usual.
"I like it," Iyotanka replied, but he was soundly ignored, as if talking to the pine tree he was huddled under. In front of the group stood the towering gates of Ironforge, like massive stone guardians of the mountain. Even from the distance, the entrance to the city seemed imposing, built into the very heart of the mountain, with only an icy, winding path granting passage. From their vantage point, they could see numerous dwarven patrols navigating the dangerous incline, and even more just barely visible from tiny slits in the mountainside; windows that provided a perfect shot with gun or bow toward any hostile invading force.
"You want to trade attacking Stormwind for attacking Ironforge? It's the most defended and defensible city-fortress in the entire world!" The female druid half spoke and half growled her reply, her voice husky and almost unrecognizable coming from her toothy animal muzzle. Even Leda, for all her inexperience, wasn't about to try something so foolish.
"Not true, General Savagedawn." Asterius said matter-of-factly. "I'm not trading anything since we will still be attacking Stormwind before we are through. We just have this little obstacle in the way."
"You're crazy," Beron echoed the thoughts of the others. The runemaster seemed perfectly at home in the rocky outcroppings of the mountains, so similar they were to his homeland. Craghoof shared a knowing look with each of the other Warwalkers, who nodded in unison. "So, how are we getting in?"
General Asterius snorted. His troops held a high amount of faith in him. He was not about to prove them wrong. "First, we get them to open the doors for us..."
