The Chromatic Protocol: A Blackmist Brigade Tale

by Lexus7

Written for members of The Blackmist Brigade Guild Darkmoon Faire . Set in an alternate future where the Lich King still advances across Azaroth, a desperate last plan is put into action. Future characters may not represent their present personalities.

Part 1:

The wind was icy against their skin but the small group standing on the mountain slope felt numb to it. Staring across the wide valley at the great gates of Ironforge, as they cracked and crumbled under the onslaught of Scourge siege weapons. The whole mountain seemed to be on fire, great chasms had opened up in the rock face that vented unending clouds of black smoke and the unmistakable stench of burning flesh. The last fortress of the Alliance had finally fallen to Arthus and his minions.

Skewsprocket felt his legs buckle beneath him and he collapsed to his knees in the snow the shock to much. Had he and the others not been on patrol they too would have been inside Ironforge, he felt a great wave of guilt wash over him. He reached a wrinkled hand into his grey hair and grasping a handful tugged, the pain felt real. It wasn't a nightmare.

"It's not possible." Syrutaya said in disbelief, her hand grasping the handle of her axe so hard the leather binding creaked and threatened to tear. "How could an army that big have attacked without warning?" She said through gritted teeth.

Litheen ran her free hand across her face, wiping the silent tears from her face, her free hand cuddling her faithful pet to her so tightly his whimpers of sympathy were muffled completely, she could feel the sparks of electricity against her skin making the hairs on her neck stand on end. "There is some new magic at work here only a portal of enormous power could have brought an arm of that size through."

"I thought portals were impossible now?" Scruttok mumbled. The Dwarf more than all felt the pain of such a loss. His own homeland collapsing before him, an endless stream of undead pouring through the broken gates to consume anything living inside.

"They can't." Skewsprocket said slowly shacking his head. "We sealed the ethereal paths when Stormwind fell, the Mages council collapsed the astral gateways. Nothing but the power of the Titans could open it again."

They all stood in silence, unable to think.

"Isn't there anything we can do here?" Scruttok's voice was desperate.

"Not now, going down there would be suicide." Syrutaya said putting an arm around the Dwarf.

"But the people, our friends, the rest of the Brigade is in there fighting and we're, we're," He couldn't finish his sentence.

Skewsprocket's head suddenly snapped up. "You're right there isn't anything we can do now but maybe there's something we could do, or rather could have done." He said, his voice suddenly hopeful again. The others looked at him in confusion.

"What?" Litheen asked. Skewsprocket opened his mouth to reply but at the same moment the air was torn apart by a great screech. From the North a flight of great plagued Dragons were bearing down on their position, their undead riders spurring them on. "Two dozen at least." Litheen yelled above the sudden storm of noise of screeches and fireballs that hurled to the ground around them.

"That's too many, we have to run." Syrutaya called, slinging her axe across her back. The four figures turned and ran with the great spirit beast bringing up the rear. They leapt and bounded down the steep slope sending miniature avalanches ahead but the dragons were closing very fast.

"There's no cover here, we stay in the open like this we won't last long." Skewsprocket shouted but Scruttok gestured off to the right further down the slope.

"Over there, there are some caves. There's a secret path through to the Steepes." The five changed course and practically fell the rest of the way till bruised and battered they reached the cave entrance, tumbling inside. The rain of fireballs continued outside under the great wing beats of the hovering dragons.

"What now?" Syrutaya said, doubled over and gasping for air. She nursed her shoulder that had taken a particularly nasty whack from a bolder on the way down. "Skewy, you were saying?"

"The Chromatic Protocol. I see nothing else for it. We need to get to the Caverns of Time in Tanaris."

"What is the Chromatic Protocol?" Litheen asked.

"It was a plan of last resort we came up with a few years ago, in the event of a total loss to the scourge we would use the Caverns of Time to go back and change events."

"And what makes you think that the Dragons will let us do that? They never have before." Litheen said shaking her head. The noise outside was lessening as the attack became less severe but a new sound was growing louder, the clinking of armour.

"Because without portals the only way an arm that large could appear would be if Arthus had used a temporal rift himself. He's had help to break the time line. Maybe we can convince Chromie to give us a chance to put it right." Skewsprocket looked round at the faces of his scouting party. There was a moments paused as they digested the idea.

"Ok that sound's like a plan, so which way?" Syrutaya asked staring at the three branching tunnels at the back of the cave.

"You need to take the left one. Just follow it all the way till you reach the Burning Steepes." Scruttok said drawing his gun.

"What do you mean 'you'? You aren't coming with us?" Litheen said with rising panic.

"It's about ten minutes through these caves at top speed, it takes two minutes to fly over the mountains and the other end of this tunnel is pretty exposed. If that undead force sees we aren't hear when they reach the cave the dragon riders will fly over and wait for us. I'll keep those deadies busy and make em think we're all trapped in here long enough for you to get to the other end." Scruttok said loading a clip of oversized shells into his weapon, bright red warning signs painted on the nose of each bullet.

"Scruttok you'll…" Skewsprocket began.

"Be just damn fine if your plan works. You guys fix this and no one will die today. In fact maybe you can stop the deaths of all our friends at Stormwind, at Darnassus and maybe even save, Him. Now, please for Irons sake go before it's too late."

Skewsprocket reached out and shook the Dwarfs hand and slipping half a dozen potion vials into his palm. "Good luck my friend." He said. Litheen and Syrutaya knelt either side of the Dwarf and each planted a sorrowful kiss on Scruttoks cheek, he blushed.

The sound of the rain of fireballs outside stopped, they could hear the yells of undead soldiers.

"Go, NOW!" He yelled, turning and running for the cave entrance. Reaching into his pack he pulled out a handful of explosive traps. He stared for a split second at the sea of undead storming down the mountain towards the cave entrance, he level his gun and fired. Again and again. He smashed the traps against the cave wall and hurled them into the crowd of zombies, the detonation sending rotting body parts flying.

For what seemed like an eternity he held them back from entering the cave till finally his gun clicked, empty. His ammo pouch was empty. Scruttok looked down at the last pack of explosives in his hand. He smashed them against the cave wall and held them there, waiting as the undead poured in through the entrance like water. For a second he stared into their faces. "Light you." He spat. The tiny space amplified the explosion ten fold and forced a fireball out into the undead army incinerating several hundred more and felling three of the Dragons and their riders and collapsing the cave forever.

Skewsprocket, Litheen and Syrutaya scrambled down the rocky hill side kicking up red dust, the sudden heat sweltering after the cold of the mountains. They heard the final explosion as they reached the cover of a jagged outcrop. They hid out of sight and waited as a minute later the remaining dragons passed overhead and then disappeared northwards over the mountains.

Skewsprocket screwed up his eyes and punched the earth, cursing the loss of another friend. A suddenly in the safety of their hiding place, realizing the loss of all those who were still in Ironforge. He wept, they all wept.

It was dark when they finally emerged from the outcrop, they did not dare light a fire or torches but the stars and full moon were bright enough to see by. Looking at each other in the silvery moonlight they could see how dirty and disheveled they looked. They laughed, the first moment of happiness in what felt like years.

"So, we need to find a way to Tanaris, we need a boat." Skewsprocket said matter of factly.

"Well north is no good, the roads path Ironforge to the wetlands will be swarming with undead and Stormwind harbor is out of the question. I guess that leaves Booty Bay." Litheen said, straightening her clothes.

"Somehow I don't think the Orcs will let us into their stronghold so easily." Syrutaya huffed, "But there may be another way. I've heard rumors that the Gypsies in Stranglethorn have an airship."

"You think they'll help us? Fighting the Orcs on one side and the Scourge on the other." Skewsprocket said, conjuring some bread and wine from the arcane. He handed it out apologetically. "Sorry it's nothing hot but I don't dare using any stronger magic while those Dragon riders might still be looking for us." They all ate and drank greedily.

"Well," Said Syrutaya though a mouthful of bread, "We do know their Queen. That's got to count for something. If we can survive long enough to see her."

"Jadyn!" Said Skewsprocket smiling, "why didn't I think of that." He frowned. "We're going to need a lot of fish." He grinned.

"Shut up." Litheen pushed him playfully. It's a dangerous road from her to the Vale, we're going to have to pass near Redridge and go through Darkshire. Neither is exactly friendly territory any more."

"Well what choice do we have. After twenty years of this war we're pretty good at killing Undead and most of the Scourge is North of us for the moment so there shouldn't be too much resistance." Skewsprocket tucked the last of the wine in his bag and looked round to make sure nothing was getting left behind. "Shall we go then."

Litheen took the lead as they set off through the barren landscape. Skewsprocket smiled but underneath he was very concerned. He had not mentioned to the others that there was someone else who knew of the Chromatic Protocol who was no longer on their side. That could be a problem.

Part 2:

As the red glow of the early dawn on the horizon became the first rays of light reaching across the land splashing colour around the world like a painters brush across a pencil landscape, the 3 tired friends crossed through the mountains of the Burning Steepes and into the high hills of Redridge.

The journey in the night had been uneventful but slow going as they cautiously moved from cover to cover. Becoming bolder as the night wore on they had begun to feel safer and the comforting view of the pass into Redridge and easier going terrain made them hurry on. Now as they made their way down a once well worn path through the hills they felt unsure again.

The area had once been home to wild Orcs, not loyal to the Horde but the new growth over the path and peaceful sounds of an empty hillside suggested the Orcs were no longer about. They knew somewhere below them the town of Lakeshire stood though they expected no friendly welcome. After the fall of Stormwind surviving citizens fled to the area, refugees in their own lands but the Scourge had pushed on after them like a hungry wave and within weeks the town was completely abandoned.

Pushing through some undergrowth they found themselves on the cliffs above Lake Everstill, the crystal blue water below them sparkling in the morning sun. The lush green of grass, trees and flowers around the lake was a welcome sight after the bleakness of the snow and their night time trek through the red rocks of the Steepes. Everything was quiet.

"Is this a good sign or a bad sign?" Asked Skewsprocket, looking over the scene below, scanning for signs of movement or hints of a trap.

Litheen crouched down and scratched up a handful of soil from the vanishing path and ran it between her thump and fingers. It was loose, not compacted. She held the earth out under the nose of her loyal companion Catharsis who sniffed curiously at the dirt but gave no sign of smelling anything he didn't like. She ruffled his head and scratched behind an ear, feeling the hairs stand up on her arm as the static bristled under her fingertips. "Nothing's been this way in a few years, I guess the Scourge found another way North." Litheen dusted the earth from her fingers and stood up.

"So do we risk passing through Lakeshire or do we go the long way round the lake and risk running into some of the former residence hiding in the valley." Syrutaya gestured towards the eastern end of the lake and the remains of a castle perched on the cliff.

"The Town. There's something I need to do." Skewsprocket said with determination.

They walked in silence for a while all keeping a careful watch for anything that might be a danger. Though all powerful and battle hardened after two decades of war, they also knew they were hopelessly out numbered. Scourge packs often consisted of many hundred ghouls, zombies and worse and sometimes thousands. In open country like this they could put up a good fight but their energy wouldn't last forever.

But they soon found themselves on the edge of Lakeshire still with no sign of trouble. The town itself was a ruin, the buildings burnt or torn apart buy some unknown force and nature had retake much of it. The fished about among the ruins of the blacksmith's forge and the remains of the inn but found nothing of use.

"Ha!" Litheen suddenly called. Waving an old steel fishing pole in the air, she had found among the timbers of the fishermans store. "I'm hungry and I really don't feel like more mana bread, I'm going to catch us some breakfast." She said enthusiastically and bounded off down the remaining pier to dangle a line in the water.

Syrutaya wondered of their was any fish still in the lake but couldn't help feel a tingle of anticipation for a nice piece of fried fish. She spotted Skewsprocket climbing over the rubble of the town hall and wandered over. "Find anything?"

"No, this place was torched first, nothing but ash. I know we should stay together but there's something I need to do over there," He pointed to the far side of the lake over the bridge at a field of small white stones. "Someone I need to say hello to. Could you watch Litheens back while she's fishing ad I'll be back shortly." There was a sadness in Skewsprockets eyes Syrutaya hadn't seen in a long time. They had lost so many friends to the war that they had almost become numb to it. Scruttoks death had hurt but it was done now and they had buried their emotions as they knew they had to, to survive.

Syrutaya placed a hand lightly on Skewsprockets head. "Heh, shortly." She giggled, trying to lightly the mood. Skewsprockets mouth half curled into a moments smile but his eyes didn't change. He wandered off over the bridge leaving Syrutaya watching him go.

She knew what was over the bridge. The Graves of the Fallen. They were not actual graves but a monument to those who had died in the last battle in Northrend, the retreat though Borean Tundra. Those who had stayed to hold back the undead while everyone else was evacuated back to the Eastern Kingdoms and Kalimdor. There were no bodies left from that battle but the Heroes were given a funeral and place to be remembered. It was not a battle Syrutaya had been part of as she had been with most of the Blackmist Brigade at Menethil Harbour fighting off a giant plagued drake the Lich King had sent to destroy the port.

But she knew Skewsprocket had been there, had been one of nine survivors of the two hundred that had stayed behind and that he never talked about that day.

Skewsprocket walked among the grave stones. Small white obelisks of stone each bearing a name and the crest of their home cities forged from Titansteel. There was a powerful magic over this place that kept it protected that made his skin tingle. As long as the magic held the one hundred and ninety one stones would never dull, the grass would never overgrow and no undead creature could harm the monument.

He knew many of the names he read. In his mind they memories were still fresh and they haunted his dreams. But there was one grave in particular he needed to see again. He knew where it was but still he took a meandering root through among the stones unconsciously delaying the moment, telling himself the others deserved to be visited too. Finally he stood in front of his destination.

He read the name on the stone. 'Frinni' And underneath the crest of Gnomeregan, the cog and two wrenches. Skewsprocket knelt but found he couldn't speak. For two minutes he just stayed there. He felt a presence behind him.

"I thought you were keeping an eye on Litheen?" He said, his voice chocked.

"It looked like you needed someone more than she did." Syrutaya moved to put a hand on Skewsprockets shoulder but stopped herself. There was a long silence. Finally Skewsprocket turned his head to Syrutaya.

"Do you know why, why I was at the battle at Borean Tundra?" His voice was soft. Syrutaya shook her head.

"You've never.." She trailed off not needing to finish.

"To burn the bodies." He stopped again, his eyes blinked rapidly three times, a drop of wetness caught the morning sun on his face. "I was one of the people there to ensure our fallen couldn't be raised as undead."

"Oh Skew I'm sorry. But it was the right thing to do." She said with conviction.

"No you don't understand." Skewsprocket ran a hand across the top of the white stone. "They weren't all dead." He heaved a great staggered breath. Syrutaya found her voice gone as the horror of what he was saying dawned on her.

"The priests and druid were overwhelmed their healing magic wasn't enough for all the wounded. There were wounded everywhere crying out as the ghouls fell on them to, to.."

He could contain it no longer and Skewsprocket dissolved into sobs one hand still on the stone his head against the name plate, 'Frinni'. Syrutaya rushed up and knelt behind the Gnome wrapping her arms around his tiny suddenly fragile form resting her chin on his shoulder as Skewsprocket shuddered from the guilt that overwhelmed him.

"I could see her face." He continued between sobs. "She was so badly injured and those things were going to rip her apart. She was screaming for help but all our healers were dead." The words were distorted but Syrutaya understood.

"So you did the only thing you could." She squeezed him tighter as he sobbed till his body shook less vigorously and his red eyes had no more tears to give. Skewsprockets knuckles where white as he clasped the stone.

"I killed her. I stared into her eyes and I killed her, vaporised her." He sniffed, his whole head feeling like it was empty. "I'm sorry I couldn't save you."

They stayed in silence cuddled together, the only comfort Syrutaya could offer him.

Skewsprocket took a deep breath and stood up breaking free of Syrutayas grip. He pulled a glass vile of a white liquid from his pocket frosted over with magic and placed it against stone. "She liked milk." He said simply.

The two made their way back thought the monument and across the bridge, stopping at the waters edge so Skewsprocket could bath his face. Syrutaya couldn't help laugh as his clean face and hands when the rest of him was so filthy till he pointed out she was just as covered in muck.

"Thank you Syru," He said. "If you please, don't tell Litheen about this."

"It will be our secret." She promised.

They walked past the old forge and were greeted by the smell of cooking fish from the ruins of the old inn. "I guess she caught some." Syrutaya said happily. Though mostly collapsed one wall off the inn still stood and blocked their view of Litheen still they were closer. They stopped and stared open mouth and the huge pile of fresh fish piled in a corner.

"Overdid it much?" Skewsprocket said, feeling his strength returning. Litheen shook her head.

"I thought it would make a good peace offering. That lot's for Jadyn." Litheen grinned at them and then they all burst out laughing, their sides almost splitting as they all roared with laughter.

As they ate their fish, Skewsprocket felt as light as a feather. It was though a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He looked across at Syrutaya who nodded almost imperceptible at him. Her eyes glowing a bright pale blue. A reminder that there could be much worse things than death for some people.

"So what next?" Asked Litheen as she watched Catharsis lick his plate clean.

"Darkshire." Skewsprocket sighed. "This is where it gets tricky. I suggest we rest here for the rest of the day and tonight if we can."

"Indeed. It's dark enough during the day in there, I don't want to spend a night in those foul woods." Syrutaya said checking her weapon over. "I think I'll give this thing a sharpen at the forge."

Litheen looked up into the cloudless blue sky and wondered what had happened at the Graves of the Fallen. She had had a clear view but could not hear what had been said between the Gnome and the Elf. Skew skewered another piece of fish on a makeshift spit and began to cook it over the fire.

From high above hiding in the glare of the sun, something watched the three friends and leered in anticipation, then flapping its powerful decayed wings flew quickly away towards the woods to the south leaving a single black feather to fall silently on the wind.

Part 3:

Skewsprocket slept fitfully, tossing and turning on his makeshift bed by the fire. Litheen sitting some distance away in the dark watched for a second before turning back to scan the darkness again. Another hour and Syrutaya would switch with her and she could get some sleep. At her feet Catharsis raised his head and pricked up his ears suddenly, the static across his body flaring for a moment before fading again to an almost imperceptible glow as he settled, the danger sensed only imagined. Litheen relaxed the grip on her gun a little.

A log on the fire collapsed into the flames sending a little cloud of blue sparks into the air. Sprinkled with Icethorn powder it burnt a dark blue instead of bright orange. A little unnerving but it was less of a signal in the night and looked from afar like just another Scourge signal fire. The group had planned not to leave the fire burning through the night but a cold Northerly wind had changed their minds. Litheen shivered a little and looked forward to the morning.

In the darkness Skewsprocket felt the eyes drilling into him before he could see them, they materialised like a ghost from the fog before him. A sickly yellow with distorted pupils shrunk to almost a not in the eye. There was a cruel smirk in the darkness too, he couldn't see it, just feel the smugness in the air. He was breathing faster now as the eye got closer, already large but now he realised still so far away but expanding to fill the horizon as he stood before one huge eye the tiny pupil wanting to swallow him whole. A terrible clanking and crashing sound filled the air, the many metallic arms of some great beast. 'What new evil is this?' He could not move or scream, he was paralysed. Clunk, crash, the metallic beast was so close and Skewsprocket felt like he was about to be plucked from existence.

Skewsprocket awoke with a start clapping is hand over his mouth to muffle a cry. He was sitting bolt upright by the embers of the fire in the first rays of morning light. He looked round but the others were gone. He felt panic rise in his chest again and with a sudden horror realised he could still here the clacking and crashing of the metal monster. Leaping to his feet he readied himself for a fight but there was nothing to fight.

The sound was not as loud as he thought and the next moment he caught site of Litheen and Syrutaya outlined on the ridge to the west that hid the road to Darkshire from view. They waved and gestured at him to join them. He dusted the night from his robes and picked his way round the lake to join them. Something else caught his eye, a third figure climbing the hill from the other side its armour caching the morning sun and shining like gold. But even in the glare it was an outline Skewsprocket recognised and it filled his heart with hope. He ran to join them.

Skewsprocket reached the top of the hill panting for breath, his forehead a little damp with sweat. 'Not as young as I used to be,' he thought. He slowed and walked the last few yards taking in the sight before him, the sound now no longer shielded by the rise now much louder.

Skewsprocket stared at the river of gold and blue, the armour plated army matching eight abreast along the road from Darkshire to Goldshire. Decked in the colours of the Stormwind Army it was a small force by standards but a welcome sight in a time of such darkness.

"Greetings Skewsprocket." A gruff voice intoned. It has been a long time. Skewsprocket looked the figure up and down, a man powerfully built, obvious even in such bulky armour. Great shining pauldrons bearing the eagle crest and lions head of Stormwind, his dark shaggy hair and beard streaked with lines of grey. The eyes of a survivor of many times their share of combat. At his side a shining beacon of hope.

"Ashbringer." Skewsprocket bowed with reverence and straightened again. "It seems the report of your death was greatly exaggerated." There was a dampness in Skewsprocket's eyes before a sudden hint of anger crossed his face. "Where have you been all this bloody time?"

The man laughed. "I think that was the first time you ever used my title Skewy. As for where I was," He shifted the weight of his shoulder unconsciously. "I was dead but it seems this blade has not yet finished with me. I awoke behind the rear lines where the priests had brought me. When it became clear Stormwind was lost I marshalled all the survivors I could and fell back to Karazhan. We healed our injured and planned our counter attack. I felt surprise would be our greatest weapon but instead we have spent the best part of two years defending our fortress prison. Finally the majority of the Scourge forces retreated and once we were sure it was not a trap we prepared to set out. That was three weeks ago."

"Well it is very good to see you again, Vangarde." Litheen said, placing a hand on his arm. "And to know the Ashbringer still exists." They all nodded.

"The Lich King must have recalled them for the attack on Ironforge." Syrutaya said looking back over Redridge towards the distance mountains. A darkness descended over Vangarde's face.

"Ironforge was attacked? We have had no news in a long while, did the gates hold?" There was a heavy silence.

"The Iron Mountain has fallen. The last Alliance stronghold has been claimed by the Lich King."

"This is grave news indeed." Vangarde sighed. "I would grieve but that will have to wait. If it's true the Lich King pulled his forces north then we have an opportunity, Stormwind will be lightly defended. My army is small but powerful, the Light guides us and we shall carve a path to the throne room and reclaim our Capital."

Below them the army had stopped marching and stood waiting, sharing nervous glances with each other and at the three strangers talking with their leader.

"I do not believe that will work, it seems the Scourge have developed a new trick." They were able to portal directly inside the city."

"By the Light! How could that happen?" Vangarde screwed up his eyes in frustration.

"We do not know, but with this new power it is only a brief matter of time before all life is finally and totally eradicated from Azaroth. We were lucky enough to be away from Ironforge, we do not know who else survived or what is happening but we have a plan." Skewsprocket explained. He outlined the plan to Vangarde.

"You know, when the plan was devised I was against it but now with these developments it maybe the only way but I see a problem. There were nine of us at that meeting, four are truly dead, two are here, two are currently unknown but one, one we know is now a servant of the Lich King. If the Scourge realises what you are trying to do they will do everything to stop you. They may not be able to take the caverns of time but they can stop you getting there." Vangarde said thoughtfully.

"What other choice do we have?" Syrutaya said. "Besides with the Ashbringer and a small army we will make it." Skewsprocket cast a glad eye over the army below and looked back to Vangarde, the Gnome nodded in agreement.

"No," The Ashbringer drew himself in height. "We would not stand long against a Scourge force like that but maybe there's another way. A diversion. Draw some attention and as much of his forces as possible. If we follow our original plan, attack Stormwind we might buy you time to get to the Caverns without being noticed. The hardest part then will be getting through the cave mouth."

"That's a suicide mission." Litheen hissed. "It's death for you and all your men."

"A force this size marching to the Caverns will be a beacon for the Scourge, that would be a suicide mission, your mission would fail and life itself would end. This way your mission has a chance. This way, life has a chance."

They all shared glances between each other. Finally Vangarde reached beneath his tabard and pulled a sheathed dagger from his belt. He held it out. "Take this with you. This dagger was forged from a splinter of the Ashbringer, broken off by the attack that felled me. The creature that was once our friend. May it's Light be an ally in the dark."

Syrutaya reached out a hand but recoiled it as though she had been burned. "It radiates such an energy." She gasped.

Litheen reached out more carefully and took hold of the dagger by its sheath. She weighed it in her hand before tucking it into her belt.

"Thank you, Vangarde, Ashbringer. Tirion and Anduin would be proud in their legacy." Skewsprocket said shaking his hand firmly.

Litheen hugged Vangarde and Syrutaya leaned forward but pulled back again. "I can't even get close to you now, the Light flows so powerfully through you. It gives me great hope that maybe your coming battle is not so futile." She blew him a gentle kiss, Vangarde bowed deeply.

"We shall not tarry, we will hurry to Stormwind and make sure the Scourge knows we are coming. I ask only that you make the very most of what we do and succeed in your mission." He grinned suddenly. "Or I shall be haunting you all personally."

They bid their final goodbyes to each other and addressed the soldiers waiting below to wish them blessings for the coming battle. The two groups separated and as Skewsprocket, Litheen and Syrutaya returned to their camp to pack they heard a song rising above the clanking of armour fading into the distance.

"To battle onward march we go,

The Glory of the Light,

Will guard and guide and keep our souls,

We are the Stormwind Knights.

All hail to the Ashbringer,

The Guardian of Holy Might,

The Scourge will soon be quaking,

As they taste the Light.

To battle …"

The rest of the words were lost in the wind.

Syrutaya, Litheen and Skewsprocket cleared their camp, and set off again towards Darkshire confident the road ahead would, at least for a short while be safer to travel but as they entered the forest, the trees closing in over their heads blocking the sunlight and they day turning to a virtual dusk they still felt fear.

Fear they all grasped onto tightly because they could not bare to think of Vangarde and the soldiers that followed him marching to certain death to help them, or Scruttok who had already given his life for the same cause. So they did not have to wonder, how many more would have to die or whether they would finish their quest together.

Skewsprocket felt a shiver run down his back remembering the eyes from his dream and feeling once again like someone, something, was watching them.

Part 4:

It was cold under the forest canopy and dark. The tops of the old twisted trees were locked together so tightly barely a shaft of light made it through. It was not the dark that unnerved the three adventures the most though but the silence.

The only sound in the dark was the crackling flames of their torches, the sizzle of Catharsis' flames and the thud of their footsteps. Skewsprocket was glad that Syrutaya's armour was so well cared for that it made very little noise as she stepped lightly beside him.

These woods had always been dark but the wild animals that once roamed them had always given it a living atmosphere. Now there was nothing, no scuffle of the Ravagers, scuttle of the spiders, no yellow eyes glowing in the darkness. The whole forest felt empty as though something had swallowed the place whole and they now walked though the stomach of the beast. A sudden gust of wind rustled the leaves along the top of the canopy and branches creaked loudly making them all jump.

Litheen laughed. "This place has gotten friendlier since I was last here."

It had been two days since they had entered the forest, passing through the town of Darkshire the evidence of a recent battle was all around. The remains of the town were even smaller that Lakeshire. Just a few corner stones and the charred tops of support posts. Stones were scattered around with no indication which buildings they had belonged to.

Litheen and Catharsis had spent a long time searching the wreckage but found nothing of use. Despite the evidence of a battle between Vangarde's forces and the Scourge there was no trace of bodies, just a big pile of ash. They had moved on but going had been slow, cautious. Always on the alert, they had never stopped for more than an hour while one got a brief nap and the others remained on watch.

They were tired and the thought of Vangarde leading a force of Alliance troops into the heart of enemy territory to draw the Lich Kings eyes away from them kept conversation stilted.

Still light was ahead, they had reached the pit that had once been home to an Ogre clan and turned down the road to Stranglethorn Vale and they knew at current pace they would be through the forest before the end of the day. Already they could feel the occasional warm puff of sweet smelling air drift by.

Something moved on the road ahead and they all froze. For a short moment the whole world seemed to have stopped.

The shape moved slowly, growing larger, coming closer. The shape was an odd mismatch of features, it rustled softly as it moved. Litheen drew her gun slowly, beside she heard the scrape as Syrutaya un-slung her weapon and a moment later they felt the sudden heavy air pressure around them as Skewsprocket tensed, the tips of his fingers began to fizzle.

"Do not be afraid." A soft voice said from the darkness. The figure stepped into the light of their torches. A slim Night Elf with long flowing hair in the garb of a druid. "Do you not recognise an old friend?"

"Syren!" They all shouted. Litheen and Syrutaya pounced and the three women hugged.

"What are you doing here?" Litheen began to ask. Skewsprocket spun suddenly.

"No, no time." A blood chilling cry ripped through the darkness vibrating in their bones. "Run." Skewsprocket turned back. "Now!" He took off sprinting past the Litheen after Syren and Syrutaya. Litheen paused only a moment to drop something on the ground and scrape the dirt over before allowing her hunter's bestial instincts take over and running at full speed to catch the others.

In the darkness their torches flickered and the flames burned low as they ran threatening to go out and plunge them into total darkness, illuminating only a step or two in front but it did not matter. They could hear the clatter of bones, the tearing of decaying flesh, the gnashing of teeth and whoops of bloodlust, they could smell the stench of rotting growing stronger. A loud explosion rocked the ground beneath them staggering Skewsprocket who felt Syren's hand on his collar righting him before he fell flat. The fireball lit up the forest and glancing over her shoulder Litheen saw a frightening site.

A sea of zombies scuttling and scampering after them, the trap Litheen laid down had killed many but did not deter the rest and more and more appeared in the temporary light. Then the light was gone and the darkness seemed almost complete as their eyes adjusted again and to Litheen being unable to see what was chasing them made the fear all the greater.

Skewsprocket felt his legs heavy beneath him, breathing hard, the tiredness threatening to over take him, he was slowing and falling behind the others.

"Now!" Syren's voice startled Skewsprocket as he looked up. The whistle overhead was a mystery to him but was followed by a curtain of mist flying above him with a whooshing sound. Behind them they all heard the screams and curses and thumps of falling creatures hitting the ground.

Skewsprocket suddenly saw what was happening. Hiding in the trees and along the path were dozens of Draenei and Night Elf archers firing a storm of arrows into the darkness.

The time for running was over, Skewsprocket stopped and turned, unleashing great blasts of fire into the darkness that exploded as they struck home illuminating the darkness. The archers using the light to fire more accurately picking off the most urgent targets. Litheen added her gun to the volley of fire, tapping into the darkness that swirled in her mind Syrutaya's glowing eyes flared brighter as she unleash a green bolt of swirling shadow energy into the zombie horde and causing the earth beneath the undead creatures boil. Undead energy turned against the undead, her hate that she had once been corrupted by the enemy chasing them multiplying the force of her attacks. Finally as the creatures close to melee rage unleashing her axe in wild swings sundering the zombies left, right and centre.

And then it was over. The last o the undead turning and fleeing. The relived group did not pursue.

In the quiet after the storm they breathed a great collective sigh of relief. Skewsprocket looked round at the trees, they were empty. It had been a while since his last encounter with the Gypsies of Stranglethorn. A group of refugees and survivors from Exodar, Darnassus and Darkshore who in the retreat from the Lich Kings overwhelming attacks had commandeered a fleet of Horde Zeppelins fallen back to take control of the old troll ruin city of Zul'Gurub deep in Stranglethorn Vale.

Syren sat down to calm herself and drink a vial of blue liquid before addressing the others.

"Our spies in the Eastern Kingdoms have brought us troubling and strange news. One of my Druids spoke with the Ashbringer as they prepared to assault the walls of Stormwind. Unfortunately it seems the plan was not successful. We learned several large packs of undead were searching the lands from the coast of Westfall to the Red Mountains. I am glad we found you first." Syren explained. "I have been ordered to bring you to the Temple. Jadyn is keen to talk with you."

A tall and muscular Draenei appeared from the darkness leading four saddled tigers. Litheen cast an appreciative eye over the tiger master. Skewsprocket rolled his eyes. "I assume that outfit was Jadyn's idea?"

The Draenei adjusted his loin cloth self consciously.

"I guess it's better than the last one. All those leather straps were just so very uncomfortable." Skewsprocket sighed.

The group mounted their tigers and began the ride to Zul'Gurub. They were all glad to be off their feet for a while. While unseen Litheen could sense the other Gypsies all round them in the darkness, an unseen escort. While friendly enough Litheen couldn't help shake the feeling of being a prisoner rather than a guest and wondered if everything was suddenly going as well as it seemed.

Up ahead they could see the forest thin and felt the head and moisture growing as the jungle foliage began to grow up around them. They had reach Stranglethorn Vale but they still had a very long way to go.

Part 5:

Vangarde eased the chest open and gazed at the torn and tattered piece of black and white cloth lying folded in the bottom. The old castle of Karazhan thronged with noise as men and women prepared for battle, in a few hours they would march for Stormwind in what Vangarde knew would be their final counter attack.

He ran his fingers over the treasured remains of the tabard in the bottom of the chest that he had once worn as a member of the Blackmist Brigade. Knowing the end was likely near Vangarde found himself recalling the memories he had buried for many years.

The assault on the Lich King's citadel as the battle raged outside, Livius had led the Brigade in the final push through the passages of the upper spire to join Tirion and Jaina. The battle with the Lich King and his most powerful minion, the creature that had once been Bolvar Fordragon. Corrupted by Arthas merciless torture, the twisted undead form fallen to darkness.

As Tirion fought Bolvar, Livius had traded blows with the Lich King, the Brigade's healers keeping him strong while the rest rained damage upon the master of the Scourge.

But the combined might of Bolvar and Arthas had been too great. As Vangarde had thought a turning point was approaching the ground had begun to shake like the very citadel was coming apart. Vangarde watched as the Lich King had grabbed Livius in bear form by the throat and hoisted him into the air before the ground dropped out from under them all.

Plunging for hundreds of feet, only the quick thinking of Skewsprocket, Aishera and Issiz had saved them from a messy end casting spells to slow their fall and bring them to a gentle stop. About them it was clear the battle with the vast Scourge army had faired little better, a full retreat was being called and the Alliance and Horde forces were falling back to Dalaran. They didn't know it then but the retreat would go on back through Dragonblight and Borean Tundra and finally leaving Northrend forever.

In the wake of the loss of Livius the Brigade had been thrown in to chaos. The officers had done their best but Livius would be just the first casualty of the retreat. Next to fall were Brielle and Issiz who died defending Jaina Proudmoore as Dalaran fell for a second time. Dorp took heavy injuries in Dargonblight and in the final retreat Robi had been lost.

As the Alliance factions fell back to defend their own capitals the Brigade splintered further. Jadyn, Syren, Aishera and Belleth fell back to Exodar and Darnassus, the Draenae and Night Elves becoming closer by proximity. In the fall of Exodar and then Darnassus, Belleth and Aishera would fall and Jadyn and Syren would lead the survivors to Stranglethorn Vale.

Dorp and Aerillian returned to Ironforge to become Generals in Magni's army. Though Vangarde didn't know it as he reminisced, they had died a few hours before fighting along side Magni and Brann Bronzebeard in the throne room of Ironforge. Heroes till the very last all, of them.

Skewsprocket would for a while return to Gnomeregan and take command as High Tinker after the death of Mekkatorque before handing over rule of the Gnomes to Gerby and returning to the Brigade.

Vangarde returned to Stormwind with Tirion to defend his homeland.

Of the remaining members, Litheen rallied them under the Brigades banner and led them to Ironforge to recover. Though she did not know why he returned she welcomed Skewsprocket back.

As the war raged on Vangarde lost contact with those he had once fought along side. A brief reunion with several members when the faction leaders and their highest officers gathered to discuss a new final plan. The Chromatic Protocol. To see Skewsprocket, Dorp, Syren and Herul who was now commanding the Ebon Blade again had been good. To see how they had become such important figures across Azaroth since their days together. He hoped Livius would have been proud.

With the death of Tirion, Anduin Wrynn took up the mantle of Ashbringer, proving every bit the successor to his fathers and Tirion's legacy. Shortly after Vangarde learned the Ebon Blade had finally been overrun in their fortress of Ulduar, the Ebon Citadel as they had renamed it. It was painful news to learn that many of the Death Knights had once again fallen under the sway of Arthas. Including Herul.

But as the Scourge closed in on Stormwind, forcing the Human army back inside it's walls, Anduin fell to one of the Lich Kings most powerful minions. Taking up the blade Vangarde found himself leading the Human forces. Never the less, Stormwind fell, the survivors too few manage to flee through secret passages carved even as they army fell back into the castle keep.

Those who did escape, mostly civilians, Vangarde led to the last fortress who could find a clear way to. The ancient castle of Karazhan. At the end of a deep ravine it was at least defendable in a way Stormwind wasn't. And for what now seemed to Vangarde to have been decades, the survivors had held out then suddenly their enemy was gone.

Now all those civilians were fighters. A rough and ready force that showed their experience in the scars on their bodies and in their minds. For a moment Vangarde felt ancient.

Vangarde closed the chest and picked up his sword, the blade that shone with the Light like a signal fire in the night. Its name his title. The Ashbringer. He walked out into the courtyard to address his army.

As he marched his force out of Darkshire, Vangarde caught sight of two familiar figures standing on the hill side blocking his view of Lakeshire, waving. He smiled, the muscles in his jaw felt stiff and unused, he felt the scar across his cheek tighten the skin painfully but he kept smiling as he walked to meet them.

Vangarde led his forces through the remains of Goldshire, the ruined walls of Stormwind less than an hour away. His mind was racing. Could this plan work? So many coincidences, running into Litheen and the others to learn of their plan to enact the Chromatic Protocol. Running into the Stranglethorn Gypsies spy as they marched being able to send word to Jadyn to help their old friends.

Vangarde called his army to a stop. "Rest up everyone, recover your full strength. They already know we're coming and are ready. We must be at full strength."

Once again Vangarde wondered if this was to be his last great battle.

The city of Stormwind rang with the sound of battle, it struck him how similar it now looked to the remains of Stratholme and Lordaeron that he had once fought through, nothing like its once glorious self.

He felt the thrill of the flow of Light through him as he slew undead after undead. An unstoppable force, the decades of war had created a true champion of the Light. His former self in the days of the height of the Blackmist Brigade just a sliver of the Paladin he was now. But as he had grown stronger so had the enemy. For a second he fantasised about facing the Lich King all those years ago in the Citadel of Icecrown as he was now. Now it would be a fair fight. Or if at least use his power to stop Bolvar falling into darkness.

Around him the screams of battle, men dying, each one blasted by his own colleagues even as he fell, ensuring he would not be rising again as one of the undead multitude.

In the corner of his eye, Vangarde saw one of his youngest Paladins, not much more than a boy when they had fled Stormwind as it fell, now still young but hard faced and determined as he felled one creature of darkest evil after another. But they waves were too much and in horror he watched as a great pustuled Blight managed to grapple a rusted chain to the boys armour and drag him screaming into the mass of seething teeth and claws.

Drawing the Light as full strength through the blade and his fist he uttered a silent prayer to the heavens consecrating the ground beneath the undead mass, cauterizing the lot in a blinding flash. They boy would not be rising as one of those Things.

Vangarde felt weak, the battle had been going for several hours and still the waves of undead didn't stop. Surely they couldn't continue long. He could only hope in the time they had marched here, the Litheen and company had found shelter with Jadyn and her forces and were that the sacrifice of his men and women would buy them the time to complete their plan.

Suddenly it seemed like a shift in the enemy, something was coming, wading through them. Vangarde tightened the grip on the Ashbringer. It appeared in front of him, even more vile and horrendous than the day he watched it kill Anduin Wrynn.

It stood before him a great mass of rotted flesh and matted fur. It's massive claws glistening, razor sharp. Its teeth sharper still hanging from it's drawling twisted mouth. The great yellow vacant eyes seemed to bore into Vangarde's soul, he drew the blade ready. The creatures green bile covered tongue licked across its lips before it spoke, the voice was harsh and throaty like a great machine tearing up a forest of trees and stones.

"You know I killed your predecessors like carving meat from bone. Do you really think you will fair better."

The Light that flowed through him seemed to surge as it swirled around him in the presence of such darkness. They other Scourge were ignoring him, they knew this was not their fight. Vangarde drew a breath, forcing himself not to choke on the stinking air before addressing the creature.

"Rot Claw! I am not Tirion or Anduin. You will not find me so easy."

"So, you finally use my name. Does this mean you have excepted the truth at last, Ashbringer?" It snarled the name. "You could join your old Master." It taunted.

Vangarde's face was contorted in anger. "Livius was never my master, he was my friend. And however your were created you were never him!" Vangarde shouted, defiant.

"You are wrong, the Lich King set me free. I was weak and you abandoned your, precious friend." The creature adopted a tone that Vangarde assumed was supposed to be sarcastic, but the voice just sounded more twisted, more insane. "He offered my a chance to fulfil my true potential, I accepted him willingly. And Livius became this god you see before you." It drawled.

"LIES!" Vangarde bellowed, the words physically manifesting as waves of Light striking the beast, Rot Claw taking an involuntary step backwards.

"Lies," He repeated. "Livius would have never willingly joined Arthas. Livius died that day in the Citadel. You, you're just twisted darkness pulled from the Nether that stole his body, Rot Claw. And today you shall die, and his soul will be set free."

Vangarde attacked, swinging with all his might, the blade slowing like the sun in his hands. The crash as it struck and locked against the beasts claws was like the sundering of the earth itself. The force of energy itself swirled outward felling a every undead thing within a hundred meters.

Back and forth Vangarde and Rot Claw traded blows, parrying the attacks and counter attacking. Around them both the dead and the living fled, to afraid to be caught up in their furious brawl. The surviving buildings and even the stone streets were torn asunder by the fight.

Finally a blow connected, Vangarde felt like he had been struck by a siege engine as he was sent skittering across the floor, the once golden, heavily bloodied and dirtied armour ripped apart hanging from his frame. Even before he stopped sliding he braced his feet to press against the approaching wall and with a blast of Light propelled himself back into the fight, slamming into Rot Claw like a locomotive and sending the creature hurtling backwards to crash with immense force into what remained of what had once been the Auction House, demolishing it like a bulldozer.

The rubble exploded outwards and Rot Caw rose and charged Vangarde and once again the two were exchanging blows. The next successful attack Vangarde slashed across the beasts right forearm almost severing it but before he could feel joy from his small victory the torn end of the limb spewed green puss that clotted instantly and the next moment the limb was good as new.

Rot Claw leered at Vangarde and spotting an opportunity as he stood stunned delivered a massive blow with the repaired paw to Vangarde's chest.

Vangarde was next aware that he was on his back, the leering arrogant face of Rot Claw craning over him. He felt a blob of dribble splash on his face. His sword was out of reach, lodged into a stone block well out of grasp.

"Once again I kill you Ashbringer and this time, there is no one left to take your place." Rot Claw threw back its head and laughed, almost more a roar of triumph. "He bared his teeth, the saliva running free in anticipation.

"Good bye, Ashbringer." Rot Claw opened his mighty jaws wide.

"Good bye, Livius." Vangarde drive the dagger deep through the decayed flesh into Rot Claws heart.

The second shard of the Ashbringer, it had stayed tucked beneath Vangarde's tabard, wrapped in the fabric that had once been his Blackmist tabard. The blow had knocked the wrapping loose and it the final seconds he drew the blade and plunged it home.

Rot Claw's scream curdled the blood of every living soldier still fighting, hearing the first scream the were sure in the Ashbringers defeat but instantly a wave of confusion washed over the undead horde and the humans took full advantage, knowing this could be their last moments. They fought like lions, the crest of their nation in their minds

Rot Claw staggered backwards clawing at his chest trying to pull the shard free but it had sunk completely and the creature was only tearing at it's own flesh. Vangarde could see the Light glowing through the wound, then shining from Rot Claws eyes and mouth and then its whole body was aglow. It screamed one final time, long and loud and Vangarde realised there were words in the scream, as Rot Claw evaporated into nothing, the scream faded too till even the echo had gone but the words still echoed in his head. 'We know what they are doing.'

A faint blue wisp flickered for a second in the air and Vangarde felt a sudden warmth wash over him, and then it was gone too.

Grabbing the Ashbringer, Vangarde ran to join his troops. In seeing their leader alive, their strength was redoubled and though seemingly impossible they drove the undead back to the castle keep. Many undead turned and fled, disappearing into the forest around the city. The rest were laid waste by the champions of Light as they reclaimed their capital.

Suddenly they city was empty except for the living, and a cheer went up that had not been heard among the cities walls in a long time.

So tired, Vangarde found himself pushed and guided and finally helped into a chair. He looked up and it took him a moment to realise where he was. Sat on the throne at the centre of Stormwind Keep. The whole chamber and the halls thronged though everyone was quiet. Standing their, saluting their leader, their champion.

Vangarde stood, quickly. "No, I am no King."

"You are all we have." One called back. A chorus of agreement filled the chamber. Vangarde looked down at the throne. He sat slowly. It felt wrong. He stood again.

"My friends. I think you all for your confidence and faith in me. But this is not right. I am the Ashbringer, I was never meant to be your ruler. It must also be said that it is unlikely the Lich King will ignore this loss. He will send a greater army here and we must be ready. Begin fortifying the keep at once. We will hold this no matter what."

The chamber exploded into activity as Vangarde appointed some people to lead the fortification efforts. He was glad to distract away from what had just happened. Their victory thrilled through him but he knew in his heart it was short lived. The Lich King would indeed send a much greater force to reclaim the city. The fact he had not already begun poring Scourge minions in worried Vangarde more.

He pondered Rot Claws last words. Could he really have meant they knew a small group was trying to complete the Chromatic Protocol. If they succeeded, this victory in Stormwind was meaningless. It would never happen. Vangarde did not really follow the principals of changing time but the fact was, he still stood in this time line. Things hadn't changed yet. Maybe they never would, maybe they had, for the worse.

He stepped outside the keep and looked round at the ruins of his city. He breathed the air. This wasn't going as he had expected.

Above him there was a great gush of wind and rumble as a great red dragon descended from the sky. Vangarde gripped the hilt of the Ashbringer then released it as the dragon's form shrank and warped and became something close to humanoid, a very attractive female form emerged from the cloud of steam that had formed during the transformation.

"Myratrasza." Vangarde bowed deeply before they queen of the red dragon flight. "You have every bit of your mothers beauty. It has been a long time."

"Too long, Ashbringer." Her voice was graceful. "Since the remaining flights swore not to interfere at the death of my mother I have watched things go from bad to worse. Now I can stand by no longer, something has happened and it threatens the world in a way we never imagined."

"What has happened?"

"Arthas has subjugated Chrono Lord Repatas of the Infinite Dragonflight, he has absorbed his soul and in doing so gained his powers. He is still learning how to use them but it is only a matter of time before he gains full control over those powers. At that point everything is over."

"By the Light, How could this happen? The Dragon flights have decided to help then?"

"No, I have decided to help. Now, get on my back. We have a long flight ahead." Myratrasza's form began growing and changing becoming a dragon again.

Vangarde looked startled. "But, my people." A crowd had begun to gather.

"There is no time, I'm sorry. We must get to the Caverns of Time before your friends make a huge mistake. Otherwise everyone here is dead, everyone ever, is dead."

Vangarde looked round. There was fear on everyone's faces but it was those faces that galvanised him into action. And the image of all the faces that hadn't survived.

Vangarde hoisted himself onto Myrastrasza's tail and climbed up to her back to seat himself on her neck. With a great beating of wings she lifted off and carried him south west towards Tanaris.

Part 6:

"Skeweeeey!" Jadyn cried, galloping down the throne room, her hooves a staccato clatter on the stone floor. She scooped him up in an embrace as a child might hold a doll, twirling him round till he felt quite dizzy. "You got older." She said with a giggle setting him down.

"It's nice to see you too Jadyn." He replied. She ruffled his hair as he looked round at the room, an odd mix of Draenei architecture built over the Troll ruins. Two bare chested and well muscled guards stood either side of the door and at the far end on the raised platform a Throne sat carved like a great leaping fish. And something else.

"Is that a cage up there?" Skewsprocket asked squinting. Something inside the cage moved, it looked familiar. "What is that."

"Is Herul." Jadyn said matter of factly. "Come say hello but carefully. He bites."

Skewsprocket felt his heart sink the closer they got to the cage, his heart had jumped hearing a friendly name, thinking that reports of the Death Knights return to the Lich Kings service had been mistaken. But what stared back through the bars was not friendly. Wild, hateful, violent. Malice flowed into the air like a physical presence turning the air cold.

"Syren catch snooping, make nice pet yes? Won't wear leash yet." She pouted. Skewsprocket shook his head in disbelief, surprised that he felt surprised. "You want to help me feed him?"

"Jadyn," Skew interrupted. "We need to talk seriously while the others are getting washed up." She frowned at him crossly then shrugged, sitting on the floor. "The war is Lost. Ironforge has fallen."

"This we know. We ready for final stand here."

Skewsprocket shook his head. "Jadyn, there is no force strong enough to stand against him now, his power has grown too strong. We need your help to get to Tanaris."

"You going to use Chrome Plated Proto Drake?" She looked at him with wide eyes. He looked back lost in their innocent depth, a mirage that camouflaged her true power on the battlefield.

"The Chromatic Protocol. We think Chromie will let us put it into affect. I've heard you have a Zeppelin."

Jadyn grinned. "Borrowed from Orcs." Jadyn stood and led Skewsprocket to a shuttered window in one wall, she threw back the wooden shutters and Skewsprockets eyes went wide.

"You stole the Orgrim's Hammer!"

"Is called, 'The Great Bear' now. For," She paused. "You know. Tribute. Also Syren said I could not call it Stoopid Fishy Ship."

"So, can we borrow it?" He asked.

Jadyn was silent for a long time. She looked round the ornately decorated room. Finally she took his hand. "Silly Gnome, we all go together. Just like old times." Skewsprocket hugged Jadyn round the knees. "But fires, you need bath." She added wrinkling up her nose.

The deck creaked underfoot as the great canvas balloon groaned against is ropes overhead. A nervous silence hung over the crew of the "Great Bear" as it sailed through the air, the Stranglethorn Gypsies dressed for battle preparing the Zeppelin for war. They had made good time crossing the sea, it's calm crystal blue waters a welcome moment of peace before the inevitable coming storm.

Jadyn sat at the bow astride one of the huge cannons, whistling to herself as she kept watch ahead with a comically oversized telescope. The door to below deck opened and Skewsprocket, Litheen and Syrutaya emerged resplendent in the new battle armour provided by Jadyn. Finely crafted and woven with enchantments they felt strong and ready for a fight.

"We are approaching the southern shore of Tanaris." Syren yelled from the wheel, throttling back the engine almost to an idle.

"I see Scorgies." Jadyn said. "Lots of them, we might want to find another way."

"Let me do a little recon." Litheen said joining Jadyn at the prow. Her hunters instincts taking over she let her Beast Eyes take over gazing far into the distance. From their vantage point in the balloon she could see for miles around. "Oh fel." Litheen's voice shook with fear. "It's a swarm like I've never seen. The whole Tanaris basin is crawling with them."

"So, it's safe to say they know we are coming." Syrutaya wiped her brow and continued. "I had expected aerial patrols as we crossed the sea but why bother when they know we can't get through."

The ship had come to a standstill in the air, hovering. The nervous silence had been replaced by a thick air of fear, Skewsprocket could almost taste it as he breathed in. Finally Jadyn spoke, calling all her people to gather around, she drew her mace and held is aloft, it's arcing blue glow seeming to grow brighter and brighter like a beacon.

"We are the homeless ones. The Gypsies of Stranglethorn. We fled the battle for Exodar and Darnassus so we could live to fight back another day. This is that day."

Jadyn thumped her mace into the deck at her feet embedding it firmly in the wood, it's glow illuminating her and those around like a ghostly fire as the crowd cheered. She continued.

"Never have we been so close to defeating Arthus since the last days of the attack on Icecrown Citadel but now we have an opportunity again, a real chance at victory. So many died to get us here but their sacrifice can not be in vane. If we succeed all this will be undone, uncountable lives will be saved. I know you are afraid, don't be. We fight with the Light on our side and the Light always shines brightest in the darkest places. Down there is our destiny, our legend that no one will ever know but us. Our legacy will be a past we never knew full of happiness and a future of hope and Life."

Jadyn ripped her mace from the decking and gazed into the eyes of her people.

"Let's save the world."

The crew exploded into cheers and roars for their Queen. The fear in the air was gone replaced by furore and energy.

"Battle stations everyone! And hold on tight, when we go I'm pushing the throttle all the way." Syren yelled as people swarmed everywhere.

Skewsprocket steadied himself. "I may be able to give us a little extra element of surprise. I've never cast invisibility on anything this big before so it may not hold long but it might buy us a little extra time to get as close as possible to the Cavern."

Skewsprocket took up position in the centre of the deck and closed his eyes. He heard the thunk as four totems were laid around him and felt the familiar hands of Litheen and Syru on his shoulders. "Let's go." He said.

"Fishy!" Yelled Jadyn. "I mean, GO!"

Syren slammed the leavers forward on the console and gripped firmly to the wheel as the acceleration tried to topple her backwards. The rocket engine thrust out a giant ball of flame and a thunder crack of noise. Skewsprocket balled up his fists and forced every arcane flow he could sense to do his bidding, enveloping the ship like an invisible mist that left the skin tingling and the ship faded from sight. There were a few shrieks of panic from crew members before they realised what was happening.

Beneath the ship the coast of Tanaris sailed by and they were over the desert and the seething endless mass of undead that all stared up as the thunderous roar whooshed overhead unseen by their decaying eyes.

Skewsprocket thought his heart was about to explode as he fought to maintain control, his body began to shiver and shake. "I… Can't." A white spot of light erupted into existence in front of his closed eyes and Skewsprocket collapsed unconscious to the deck as the Zeppelin materialised in the air.

At once an unholy scream erupted from the mass below and Jadyn watched as great decaying dragons and other creatures rose into the air and speeded towards them.

"We have incoming. Get those cannons firing. Target the dragons first." Jadyn yelled. She knelt by Skewsprocket. "Is he ok?" She asked Syru.

"I think so, just unconscious. I think he just experienced the mage equivalent of childbirth. Draenei childbirth."

Jadyn winced. "The ghorns can be a problem." A second later a giant ball of fire whizzed overhead. "Why, I said kill the dragons." She yelled. Dragging Litheen to the gun emplacements. "Unleash everything you have."

The ship began to rock under the assault, though she gave as good as she got, felling several dragons to the cannons, it was taking a beating.

"Get those fires out, and watch the bags don't…" Syren yelled but was interrupted as a great jet of green flame ripped through the centre air bag shredding it and sending pieces of burning cloth raining onto the deck below. Immediately she felt the craft beginning to loose height.

"I see the Cavern ahead." A voice yelled.

Jadyn joined Syren at the wheel to gaze forward at what lay dead ahead, the valley entrance and the cave itself leading down to the caverns below. Three great golden dragons guarded the entrance, larger than any Jadyn could remember slashing and scorching the unending waves of zombies, abominations and other undead minions that tried to assault the entrance.

Skewsprocket stepped up beside them, secretly wishing he hadn't come round after seeing the chaos around him. "Let's hope they'll let us in." He grimaced.

"You know that cave entrance looks quite a bit smaller than this ship." Jadyn said nervously."

"I don't think that's going to be an issue." Syren said wrestling with the wheel as the forward balloon segment exploded in a shower of sparks and the ship tipped bow down, the descent increasing rapidly.

People grabbed onto anything to stop themselves falling, one unlucky Draenei failed to find a hand hold and slipped bouncing off the deck and over the bow falling to the undead sprawl below. Jadyn screwed up her eyes and turned away in horror.

"We're coming in for a hard landing, brace yourselves." Syren screamed above the noise of battle and the ship tearing itself apart. She aimed the crashing ship for the mouth of the valley and gritted her teeth, shifting into Moonkin form hoping the extra padding would help.

The crippled Zeppelin slammed into the ground at close to 90 miles an hour splattering the splintering hull with bile and congealed blood as dozens of undead were squashed and hundreds more were mown down as the 'Great Bear' dug a crater along the desert floor. Debris scattering everywhere as people were tossed about like beans in a can. A great billowing cloud of sand and dust swirled in the air cutting vision down to a few feet in an artificial darkness as the skidding wreckage slowed and came to a final stop.

Skewsprocket felt numb as he hauled himself from the floor but there was no time to be dazed as the unholy scream returned and undead began to swarm the ship. The next moment Skewsprocket found himself locked in deadly combat with ghoul that leapt from the dust ready to tear him apart.

All around him, Skewsprocket could hear the sounds of battle. Screams and cries. He blasted the ghoul away with his magic and staggered to find his friends.

He found Jadyn knelt beside a battered and bloody form. He gaze down and felt the tears prick his eyes as he saw it was Syren. She was lying in an unnatural way against the bulk head, a giant splinter of wood piecing her chest. She drew a ragged breath.

"I'm sorry." Jadyn cried trying every healing spell she knew but Syren gripped her arm.

"Don't let me become one of them." She said weakly.

Something leapt from the dust cloud at them ad was disintegrated instantly by an rage fuelled blast from Skewsprocket.

Jadyn looked at Skewsprocket with pleading eyes. "I can't." He read the words from her lips though no sound had come out. He knew what she meant. For a second it wasn't Syren looking up at him but Frinni. The tiny trickle of blood from the corner of her mouth chilled him.

"Thank you." Syren said. They could hear the rattle of chains as something huge was approaching them in the darkness. Syren smiled and then there was nothing left for the undead to feed upon.

They felt the beast behind them but neither felt they could move, Jadyn and Skewsprocket joined hands not saying anything.

A sudden wet splosh and a thunk of an axe hitting wood as it cleaved the abomination in two broke their trance.

"Would you two move for Elunes sake!" Syru yelled. We didn't come this far to stand around like puddings now." The dust was clearing and they could see the siege war that was raging around them. Litheen was close unloading arrows into anything she could. Syrutaya laughed, "Don't make me do this on my own." Syrutaya froze her eyes wide with horror as a huge chain thrust out of the fading dust and enveloped her pinning her arms to her sides.

The desperate Gnome reach out for her but it was too late as Syru was sucked backwards into the dark with a scream that almost broke Skewsprockets heart. He tried to run after her but Jadyn restrained him.

"We might be able to save her. Get off me. Get off." He struggled against her still Jadyn slapped him hard across the face.

"You need to go, now. We are almost out of time, the entrance is close and the guardians haven't toasted us yet." Jadyn looked up at the three golden Dragons now locked in combat with the flying undead creatures that had attacked their zeppelin.

"Come on then," Skewy growled, "I could almost blink us to the cave from here."

"No, I'm not leaving my people." Jadyn said, throwing out heals with all her heart. "We'll hold the Scourge back while you get to Chromie and open the rift. Don't let my speech be for nothing, or it will be really stooopid." She kissed him on the forehead then turned and ran into the fray to join her Gypsies.

Litheen grasped Skewys shoulder again. "She's right, let's go. In a few minutes none of this will have happened and everyone will be alive."

The Gnome gritted his teeth and did his best to force his emotions back under the surface. They blinked, and Litheen and Skewsprocket were standing at the entrance to the Caverns of Time, a small golden dragon stood waiting for them.

"We have been expecting you. Climb on and I'll take you to her." It's voice rumbled in their heads.

In that moment Skewsprocket felt some kind of solace. Their journey was almost done, the most dangerous part was over, or so he thought and soon he could fix everything. So many lost friends, so much blood on his hands. So much pain.

The dragons powerful wings lifted them up and carried them to the caverns below.

Part 7:

The great cavern seemed almost silent after the sounds of battle, their dragon mount had dropped them on the sandy floor and flown away leaving them waiting. The cavern was lit by an unnatural glow that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once.

"Greetings to the both of you." A small gentle voice broke the stillness, Skewsprocket and Litheen turned to find Chromie, the ancient, wrinkled and grey haired Gnome form of the leader of the Bronze Dragonflight and now last of the guardians of time. Chronormu.

Skewsprocket smiled outwardly and reached out a hand to shake but never he thought, had he seen Chromie looking so old or so worn. The skin of her hand was cool and clammy and he thought he could detect the slightest shivering in her bones. Litheen leaned in and hugged her.

"I have been expecting you for some time." She laughed at her own joke. "I had expected more of you." Chromie turned and began making for a closed of section of the caverns, Skewsprocket and Litheen followed automatically.

"No one else made it." Litheen replied sadly. Chromie just nodded without turning, but the hunter could almost feel the sadness wash over her.

"I see, I am afraid recent developments have greatly reduced my ability to see the flow of time so I may be a little out of the loop." She giggled again at her own pun and mumbled something about loops. Skewsprocket and Litheen shared a worried glance.

"I take it as we are here, you are going to allow us to go through with the plan, the Chromatic Protocol as we termed it?" The Gnome asked, hurrying to keep pace as the sand shifted underfoot making moving at speed hard. Chromie stopped and turned suddenly her face serious.

"A long time ago we reached a major time conjunction, that day in the throne room of Icecrown Citadel two paths opened. For the longest time I thought this world took the correct path, that this was just the way things were supposed to happen but I have come to realise that another force was at play that day. The world we live in now should never have existed and now I believe the Lich King has found and corrupted my former master, Nozdormu. I believe it is this event that created the Infinite Dragonflight the Guardians have been battling for so long. What ever the Lich King has done, it is sending massive destabilised waves through the very fabric of space time and if left unchecked could tear this very universe apart."

Chromie paused to catch her breath.

"I believe we have one chance to fix this, I will enact the protocol and send you back to that day in the Throne room and you must make sure the Lich King dies that day. It maybe to late to undo all the damage done by the corrupted Nozdormu, but we can stop the universe from destroying itself to be replaced by something, well, unimaginable."

Litheen blew out a long held breath of air. "So, no pressure. Just the whole universe resting on our shoulders then."

"Just like old times." Skewsprocket said cheerfully.

"There is little time left, we must begin the process of opening the rift in time before it becomes too unstable." Chromie lifted her arms into the air and turned once again to the wall of the cavern blocked up by huge boulders the size of houses.

"STOP!"

The voice bellowed clear across the cavern, commanding, familiar.

"Ashbringer, Vangarde. There's no time left." Skewsprocket protested as he trotted to meet his old guild mate.

"No, if you open that rift now then it's all over. Isn't it, Arthus!" Van yelled into the air. The others looked at him perplexed and Litheen was about to offer the delusional Paladin some water when the air between them began to twist and ripple and before them appeared their Nemesis. The Lich King but not as they knew him. He was huge, his armour shrouded in a black evaporating haze, his skin a deep dark grey and his eyes shooting sparks.

Suddenly it became clear, the Infinite Lich King now stood before them and laughing. His voice rumbled like an earthquake in a mountain. "You will open the rift."

Chromie clenched her fist. "He is fighting you, isn't he? You may posses Nozdormu's power but he is stopping you from accessing the past. Only the free will of a Guardian can open that door."

"Open the rift NOW!" Arthus screamed. "Or I will strip the flesh from your bodies an atoms layer at a time." He made a move toward Chromie but Vangarde drew his sword the Ashbringer and in one clean move leapt at the Infinite Lich King aiming to cleave off his head.

The plated hand struck Vangarde like a wrecking ball sending him flying across the Cavern like a rag doll to crash painfully against the rocky wall and the sword to bury itself to the hilt above him. Vangarde slumped in the sand on all fours the breath knocked from his body and his head ringing. He could sense the heavy dark shadow of evil coming towards him. Van could taste the murderous intent projected at him, metallic and bitter.

"You are no match for me any more Ashbringer. You are no more a dangerous to me than a spark and now I will finally extinguish your line."

Litheen and Skewsprocket darted forward to help the Paladin but were restrained by the surprisingly strong hands of Chromie. "Stop. Like this you are no match for that thing." The Guardian of Time said grimly. "Bonded with a Guardian even unwillingly he is more powerful than anything you have faced before."

"Let me go, Van will die." Litheen struggled to free herself."

"There must be a way." Skewsprocket knew he sounded desperate. "We can't come this close to fail now."

Litheen wriggled free and ran with her swords drawn to intercept the Infinite Lich Kings slow taunting advance towards Vangarde who was now struggling to free the sword from its stone sheath.

"There is one thing you can do Mage, but it will cost you your life." Chromie said, the Gnomes standing face to face.

"In this time my Life is already over. If there is a chance to undo all this then I will do it gladly."

"You don't understand. What I propose won't just affect you here, but you for all time. Even if we undo all this, the Skewsprocket that exists in the other time will be tied to this fate."

"What do you mean?"

"I will bond with you, like the Lich King and Nozdormu but a willing bond will be so much more powerful than an unwilling one. We would become one being but through out time we would become linked. Even in the other time, we would still be bound and one day that bond would consume you. I can't say how long it would take, days, years, decades, but eventually you would become just a part of me."

Skewsprocket was silent. He was aware if a shift around him, the world had stopped. Nothing moved.

"I can hold time like this for only a moment, time enough to decide." Chromie said. Skewsprocket looked at his two friends. The three of them were maybe the last truly living beings from Azaroth and two were seconds from death. There was no decision to make.

"To truly save the world, save everything, to save all those lost friends? I gladly make the sacrifice Chromie."

"You realise no one will ever know?"

"Yeah, life is a real bi…" There was a great flash of light in colours no one has ever named and two beings became one.

Litheen closed her eyes and waited for Frostmourne to end her life but there was no pain, instead a bang like a rocket exploding and she felt a strange energy nearby. She opened her eyes to a sight she could not take in.

A Gnome in shining gold robes and a great mane of flowing bronze colour hair stood protecting her, the razor-sharp blade of Forstmourne stopped by the Gnomes palm as though his flesh was indestructible.

"Not today Monster." His voice was silky and strong. With a flourish of his wrist a great ball of flame struck the Lich King blasting him back across the cavern away from Litheen and Van, crashing into the rock wall and carving out a crater 6 feet deep.

"Skewsprocket?" Litheen asked slowly. The Gnome turned and his face was familiar and also different.

"It has been so long since I heard that name but I am not him anymore. I guess I am Chromatic Skewsprocket." The Gnome paused. "Chromesprocket seems better."

There was an animal scream as the Lich King launched himself across the cavern with every intention of smashing the three creatures before him to pieces but Chromesprocket easily intercepted his attack and deflected him away high into the ceiling of the cavern, the impact sending rocks raining down.

"We are out of time, you must be ready. I shall open the rift and send you through while I keep the Lich King busy. You must stop Bolvar from falling under the Lich Kings power but you must not interfere further, for there must always be a Lich King to maintain control over the Scourge."

"What should we do afterwards, will we just disappear." Van asked as he ducked another attack by Arthus who was sent tumbling away across the sandy floor.

"You must find somewhere quiet and out of the way, avoid anyone you know and don't get involved. I guess you could say after today you will be retired. Now get ready. I will draw him outside then open the rift here. It will only last a few seconds. Here goes."

Van saw the Lich King literally flying towards them in an insane battle rage but Chromesprocket leapt to meet him and as the two exchanged earth shattering blows they lifted into the air. The whole world seemed to be shaking around them as the brawling figures collided with the already damaged cavern ceiling and began smashing up through the rock towards the surface. This was a fight both Litheen and Van knew was far beyond them. The kind of battle that reshaped continents.

"Help me." Van yelled struggling to free the sword. Finally with a mighty tug it popped free but instantly they could see the blade was almost destroyed. Just the hilt and a narrow nine inch shard of the blade still attached.

"I guess it makes sense. The couldn't be two Ashbringers in the past." He tucked the hilt into his belt and took Litheens hand leading her across the cavern to where Chromesprocket had said the rift would open.

The rain of shattered rock had stopped and as they past under the great hole they could see a dark story sky above and the silhouettes of the two fighters still locked in battle as lightening bolts lit up the sky around them and even above the nose of battle they could hear the monstrous wailing of the undead servants of the Scourge calling for the end of life.

Finally Chromesprocket felt the moment had arrived, he ducked the Lich Kings clumsy sword swing and connected a hyper powered Arcane Barrage into his chest sending the King of the Undead higher into the sky screaming in pain and rage but still seemingly undamaged. In truth this fight would have only one outcome if it played out. Chromesprocket couldn't keep this up forever and though stronger, the Infinite Lich King had the stamina to out last him.

He concentrated all his thoughts on one thing. He felt the tiny tear open in the caverns deep below him. He knew Arthus had felt it to as he watched the Lich King diving back towards the Caverns with all the speed he could. But it was too late.

Chromesprocket felt the ripple as Vangarde and Litheen leapt through and snapped the rift closed behind them. Then the waves of time washed over him and he knew they had been successful. Arthus screamed. The scream of someone who knew he had lost, of pure, singular hate.

Chromesprocket reflected on the new past he could see unfolding and for an instant wondered if they had done the right thing, whether what he saw unfolding wasn't worse than what they had stopped. The return of Deathwing and beyond that other greater threats. But for each threat he saw the people he called his friends and their children and their great grand children and beyond through the ages rising up to defend Life.

Time had been set right. Existence ended as the timeline finally collapsed and a new time took its place.

Litheen and Vangarde looked round themselves. The Throne Room of Icecrown Citidel exactly as they remembered it from all those years before and there, chained above the Frozen Throne was the charred and corrupted body of Bolvar.

"Where is the Lich King?" Asked Litheen quietly as if she expected him to suddenly spring from behind one of the standing stones around the platform.

"I guess he is still down at the entrance, the other us must be just breaking the door in. We probably don't have long." The two approached the sorry figure of Bolvar Fordragon and Litheen drew her sword. Bolvar moaned at the sight of the weapons and twisted against his chains.

"Kill me, before Arthus completely takes my mind."

"Wait." Vangarde held Litheens arm. "Remember what Skewy, I mean Chromesprocket said. There might be another way." Vangarde drew the shattered remains of the Ashbringer from his belt and held it aloft towards Bolvar.

"Bolvar Fordragon, I am the Last Ashbringer, and what power I still posses I offer to you. Take my strength and let the Light protect you against the Darkness."

Litheen watched in wonder as the two Paladins were bathed in Light that seemed to flow between them through the remains of the Sword then in horror and Vangarde dropped to his knees his hair whitening and wrinkles appearing on his face till the Light faded.

From his shackles Bolvar looked down on the two heroes below him, though still burned he now looked strong and defiant once again.

"I feel the Light in me once again, get me down from here and who are you two?"

"Lord Fordragon I regret we can not cut you down yet. What is happing here today is hard to explain I shall only say we are writing a mistake we made a long time ago."

Litheen explained as she helped the exhausted Van to his feet supporting his weight. "The final battle with Arthus is almost here and you must hold out against his will till Tirion and the attack party make it to the Throne room. Please do not tell anyone you saw us."

Bolvar searched their faces but found no trace of deception. "By the Light, I shall not let the Lich King win this day." A mighty crash ringing throughout the citadel signalled the attacking party had breached the walls.

"And that is out queue to get out of here." Said Vangarde.

"How, there's no way out except through the Citadel?" Litheen said looking round a sense of panic growing inside her.

Vangarde steadied himself, he felt suddenly decades older. He reached deep into a bag and pulled out two neatly folded pieces of cloth. "Parachute cloaks." He said with a laugh. "I've been carrying these round for ten years. Remember you have to wait till the last minute to deploy them."

"I can sense Him coming." Bolvar called from his chains above the Throne, "Hurry."

The two ties their cloaks tightly and readied to jump, Vangarde paused as he remembered something. "Lord Bolvar, Arthus must die tonight but the Scourge must always have a leader to keep them under control, we have done everything we can to save the future, it must be someone else who takes on the responsibility of guarding it."

Litheen took Vangards hand again and the two jumped. A moment later Arthus arrived at the platform storming to the Throne in a rage as his citadel was attacked, yelling taunts to the invaders. Litheen caught only part as they fell down the side of the tower.

"The Breaking of this one has been taxing. The Atrocities that I have committed upon his soul. He has resisted for so long but he will bow down before his king soon." Litheen smiled to herself as she heard the Lich King shout this, he was in for a surprise.

"NEVER! I… I will never… serve… you." She hear Bolvars reply and wished she could have seen Arthus face.

"We did good I think." She called to Vangarde. He nodded as the ground rushed up to meet them, they deployed their chutes and settled calmly to the ground.

"So, what now?" Asked Litheen. "Where do we go."

"Well, I know of a nice little place in Auberdine, out of the way of the port but we should have everything we're going to need there." Van replied. Litheen helped to support him again.

"I guess it sounds like an ok place to retire to." She laughed. "Do you think it would be a problem if we went and found this times Skewsprocket?"

"Why?"

"Because without a Portal, it's going to be a bloody long walk." They both laughed in a way neither of them had laughed in a long long time. It wasn't a particularly funny joke but for the first time in many years the future seemed bright.