Rising and Falling

Chapter Four: Tower Defense

"Who are you, and what are you doing in my tower?" asked a voice from behind Simonee. "I hire a dragon for protection, and even he can't keep out pesky passersby..."

The voice was feminine and quite obviously not very happy with him, discernible even through the filter of magic essence. Simonee turned around quickly, only to find nothing standing from where the voice came. Confused momentarily, he narrowed his eyes and searched harder for the owner of the dissatisfied voice. Instead of finding a person, he found a floating arcane eye. The eye was a basic spell, one that he'd learned as well, in his time in Quel'thalas. It had a rather short range, so whoever was behind it was not far away.

"My name is Simonee. I am traveling with my party to Wyrmrest Temple, and we stopped here to rest for the night," he said, looking directly into the iris of the magic eye, which narrowed in turn. "We weren't told that there were others here. I apologize if we're trespassing."

The eye dissipated into a fine mist before he received a response, leaving him to wonder who would be here, or how they would have the means to 'hire' a dragon to protect them. Most dragons would have loved to incinerate a mortal with that kind of audacity on principle alone; not one creature was allowed to be more full of hubris and clout than a dragon was. Whoever this mysterious person was, they were obviously very lucky or very dangerous... perhaps even both. Before he was allowed to think further on the matter, he was interrupted by the distinct sound of someone materializing downstairs through a portal. The sound of footsteps could be heard echoing up the spiraling ramps within, until Simonee was face-to-face with the mage responsible for the eye and the alchemy in the tower.

"Simonee, was it?" she asked, eyes trained on his. "Yes... I've heard of you. You're the one that Archmage Rhonin sent out toward Valiance Keep. Why are you traveling for Wyrmrest? I thought you were to report to the king."

Simonee inspected the female mage who had just arrived in front of him. She looked to be rather young, yet the power radiating from her presence spoke otherwise; she was obviously very in tune with the flows of magic, and that harmony came with naught but experience. Her raven-black hair hung loosely about her face, her bangs framing brilliant blue eyes. She was garbed in a set of purple robes, the standby of the mages of Dalaran, the trims of which dyed with golden patterns. On her back was set an intricate wooden staff, her focus of choice.

"Yes, that was why we were flown to the keep, and we have accomplished just that. However, complications sprang up and the very queen of the dragons has asked for our assistance with a matter of some importance," he replied.

"Alexstrasza? What does she need you for?"

"The king needs the dragons' assistance in gaining more ground in Northrend, but they can't do much with Malygos and his flight attacking the temple night and day, and so he sent us to try and help however we can."

"It is true that the blue flight has been pestering the temple for quite a while now, and Surristrasz has been very quick to remind me of the dangers. He also seems very privy to information that is of importance to the Kirin Tor, regarding the Nexus."

"The Nexus? If I may ask, what is that?"

The mage turned to one of her experiments, answering, "It's the single largest ley line that the Kirin Tor knows about in this world. It seems that Malygos is simply distracting the dragons from halting his progress at the Nexus; he seems intent on containing the magic of the world there under his control, and unless something is done to stop it, he's quite likely to succeed, if Surristrasz's urgency on the matter is to be believed."

"Do you think that's truly why Alexstrasza requested our aid?" Simonee asked, going over what information he had in his head.

"It is quite likely, if I had to guess. Regardless, you may stay here for the night. If it really is what she wants of you, then it is indeed best that you get there on your best legs."

"Thank you... err..."

"Evanor, Archmage of the Kirin Tor, at your service," replied the female, looking back at Simonee.

"Thank you, Archmage," Simonee said. "You said you hired... Surristrasz, was it? How did that come to be?"


Erylian watched as Simonee disappeared into the tower's heights, feigning interest in the dragon. He had known about his fellow archmage's presence on the Amber Ledge, as well as the red behemoth's reasons for being here. He meandered about the meadow as Simonee inevitably met with Evanor, taking in the sights. The plateau was larger than it seemed at first glance, with not one, but two grassy meadows thanks to Surristrasz simply being there. Not ten paces from the tower, there was a bridge over a wide channel that led to an island bordered by tall mountains. The bridge was broken, a large gap in the wooden planks attesting to the fact. Stone pillars marked where the halfway point and the ends of the bridge would have been, the ones in the middle stretching a very long way down into the channel. Erylian briefly wondered at what had destroyed the bridge, but was interrupted by Krionoso.

Ever since he had arrived in Dalaran, he noticed his son was conflicted and confused about him. Erylian really couldn't blame him, as he had literally been dead most of his son's life, and it obviously put a stopper on whatever relationship would have been between them. As such, he wasn't surprised with the callous treatment he received.

"So why, again, are we stopping here? Seems to me like we still have plenty of sunlight to be traveling," Krionoso asked, stepping next to his father.

"There's someone here I need to talk to, and things I need to do," Erylian replied, taking a look at his son.

The last time he had even seen Krionoso was a few months after he was born; just before he went to go head off the Burning Legion at Mount Hyjal. Since then, he could tell Krionoso had his fair share of fighting; his face was nearly perpetually in a scowl, and deep lines had already begun forming, even though he was still quite young. His blonde hair was long and pulled back into a ponytail, and his face had been beginning to show signs of the same blonde hair poking through the skin.

"You need. The rest of us could be continuing on! There's literally no reason for us to really even be here, then," he said, beginning to raise his voice in exasperation.

"It's not just me I'm here for. There are many events in motion that we all need to know about, and our first order of business should be finding out as much information as possible. Keeping ourselves from exhaustion is also paramount," said Erylian, turning toward the second meadow, away from the dragon's prying ears.

"What do you mean, 'events in motion'? I just want to finish whatever it is Alexstrasza wants of us, and to be done with the lot of it. I don't know about you, father, but I'm just trying to stay alive at this point," Krionoso asked, following Erylian.

"I understand, but this is larger than you, and it is larger than I. We really don't have much choice in the matter, as these things are inexorably sweeping us in, and there isn't any way out beyond resolving it completely. That requires understanding the situation as a whole, so that we can be ready for things as they come."

Krionoso scratched his head. Sighing, he said, "This is unbelievable. Is there any end to this madness?"

Erylian chuckled mirthlessly. "Yes; death. And by my experience, it's nothing truly special."

"Now that's just morbid," remarked Krionoso, grinning slightly.

"Can't help it, it's my nature," Erylian said. "Regardless, we should get back with the group, Simonee should be finished soon. We'll talk more later on."

Krionoso nodded, and together, he and Erylian made their way back toward the group, which had congregated in front of the dragon. As Erylian got there, he saw that Simonee had indeed met with Evanor and was busy briefing the group.

"...called the Nexus, and that's basically where we stand on that matter," Simonee said.

"Sounds troubling. But nothing has answered the question of what we're supposed to do against a dragon Aspect. I mean, a dragon is one thing – no offense to our present company – but an Aspect is a whole other league entirely!" Dagerly responded, gesturing wildly.

"I'm sure we'll think of something," Aeriah said, scowling. "Besides, we're on our way to Wyrmrest Temple right now. While we're dealing with... whatever it is we need to do there, we can figure out the problem at the Nexus."

"For now, though, we're welcome to stay here for the night, in the tower. Archmage Evanor will be providing provisions and assigning watch rotations; Malygos' mortal subordinates have been scoping out the area, and they'll have seen us arriving. There's also risk of the snobolds and magnataur attacking," Simonee stated.

"What fun," Krionoso said, half-bitterly. "So when do we start rotating?"

"Well there's little to no risk right now, so for the moment we can just get set up inside," Simonee said, gesturing at the tower.

A question occurred to Erylian, but he bit his tongue until a better time. For the time being, he would just unpack his things and get settled in. He walked inside the tower and took a good look around, finding nothing of importance to him. Satisfied that the quarters were at least large enough vertically to fit the party and with plenty of room, he set down his pack next to the entrance and retreated outside.

The sun was finally beginning to disappear behind the hills, causing the sky to take on a purple hue in the chilly twilight. Everyone else began to bundle themselves up, but the chill was lost on Erylian. Simonee was making preparations with Evanor, leaving the rest of the group to get themselves settled in for the night. Erylian was as relaxed as he needed to be; he longingly thought of what it would be like to again have what flesh he may have. It had been a long, long time since last he felt anything.

As soon as he notice Simonee begin to move to himself, he walked to intercept him. There were some answers he needed about the situation.

"So tell me; what good is hiring a dragon for protection if they aren't going to protect the one who did the hiring?" he asked, as he walked up next to the younger mage.

"Surristrasz does protect the archmage, but she saw fit to have us repay her gratitude with some of our own. Not bad as far as trades go, I don't think. Surely that's not the only reason you've come to me, though," Simonee replied, continuing on his way back toward the tower. "So what do you need?"

Erylian thought carefully on how to word his next few phrases. "I need you to be prepared for something beyond a simple invasion," he said, looking Simonee in the eye, as best he could.

"For what? Not planning on betraying us, are you?"

"No, of course not. But you should know what happens when I regenerate. Or at least, what happened the first time."

"Okay, so what happens, then?"

"Well the catalyst is still unknown, but when the reaction starts, I black out. While I'm out, there may be... unexpected events occurring, beyond just the return of my flesh."

"I don't think I like where this is going, magister," Simonee said, finally stopping. "Can you explain to me exactly what you're going on about? If not, then we can take things as they come."

Erylian faltered for words before settling on a sentence. "I'm not sure exactly what happens, but the latent magic in the air may cause a reaction, one that may be more harmful than I anticipate. Like, say, an explosion of arcane energy."

"How wonderful. Do you know how powerful this reaction could possibly be? Or are you just providing conjecture on the matter?" Simonee asked, raising an eyebrow. "And for that matter, is this really a possibility?"

"Yes, it truly is possible. I have no control over my mind while the process takes effect. As for how powerful, there's no telling. Last time it happened, I was lying in the middle of a crater smoldering, so take that as you may."

"Alright then. Just... try not to explode on us while we're here. I wouldn't feel like trying to tell Archmage Rhonin how a Violet Eye stronghold was wiped off the map by something that seems nothing more than coincidence."

Erylian chuckled. "I will see what I can do."


Night descended rather quickly on the land, as the sun receded from view, leaving not much more than the stars and whatever fire was possible as light sources. Cold air assaulted the Amber Ledge, along with winds that swept the plains. The only respite from the weather was to be inside the tower erected on the hill.

On the walls opposite from the bookcases lining the lowest landing was a pair of torches lighting the entrance to the tower. There, Garret was on watch duty, his being the first of the rotation. Everyone else settled down to sleep on the floors above, the firelight being impeded by the large spiraling pathways leading higher up.

Since his arrival in Northrend, Garret had been assailed by the wailing voices of the elemental spirits of the land. His meditative trek to the Violet Stand beneath Dalaran had helped him make some headway into their pleas, but even then they continually cried out for aid, and there hadn't been much opportunity for the shaman to attempt even the smallest ritual to appease them. The only choice he had for now, to keep from losing his mind, was to try and disregard it. But, as he was quickly becoming aware, no one ever completely ignored the elements.

He sighed and closed his eyes briefly, monitoring the earth's vibrations to ensure no one encroached upon the tower. Speaking an incantation, he began to meditate. If this was to be his only downtime in their time in the frozen northlands, he was going to make quite sure it wasn't wasted on his own comfort.

Garret made contact with the cacophony of spiritual noise that was the elements, and braced himself for the inevitable storm of energy that came with the communion with them. A rush of static enveloped him for a brief moment before the connection was complete.

Inhaling, he pushed into the heart of the earth's essence, forcing his own essence down, down, as far as he could manage. As he descended, he looked around him. Everywhere, there were canyons and crevasses, representing the wounds of the earth; things that should have been there simply weren't. Garret was astounded. He hadn't seen things like this since he trained on Draenor, nor had he wished to see such devastation again.

Loosing the breath, he poured energy into the cracks that surrounded him. The magic was brilliant, nearly blinding the shaman behind it. Even so, Garret could simply feel the effects, as well as the earth's gratitude flooding into him through the link he had formed. He continued until he could no longer sustain the spell, and even then, he was reluctant to stop. If it weren't for a strong sense of danger, he probably wouldn't have.

Garret withdrew into himself again, to find that the sense of danger was more than just a sense – the earth itself had been telling him that Amber Ledge was soon to be under attack. He searched through the wind's eyes to find the source. A large contingent of spellcasters, all wearing blue robes, was marching up the hill as he watched.

Cutting off the link he had been maintaining with the earth's spirit, he began bolting up the tower to wake his comrades. The aftermath of the spell was beginning to affect him already; his legs were sluggish and he had to push himself just to continue forth. As he climbed he raised the alarm, waking his comrades. At the top he encountered who he assumed was the archmage Simonee had spoken to.

"What's this all about?" she asked.

"I fear we're being invaded, ma'am. I spotted some mages moving up the ramp, and they don't look terribly friendly."

"Malygos must have finally realized I'm here. It was only a matter of time, I suppose. Prepare yourself. His forces aren't likely to give up easily," Evanor said, scrambling to cut off her alchemical experiments.

Garret didn't wait around for long, deciding it was best that he get back down to his vigil at the bottom of the tower. As he descended, he noted that everyone else was beginning to make their own preparations for whatever would come. From the looks of the marching mages, they'd probably need the extra time, too.

The shaman collected his things and put his pack to the side, where no one would trip on it on their way out. From the pack, he pulled out his set of armor, placing each piece delicately in its place before looking after his pair of hammers. Diligently, he communed with the spirits of the land again, asking for their aid. From the wind, he asked swiftness and agility. From the fire, he wished tenacity. From the waters, he requested grace, and from the earth, strength and will. With the spirits' blessings, he set to imbuing his weapons with their energy.

As soon as he was finished, he stepped outside into the bitter winds and waited. Simonee was already there, along with Erylian and Dagerly.

Already they were beginning to see the beginnings of the sizable force marching up the ramp toward the tower. All of them seemed to be at least minimally able to sling spells, which made them all the more dangerous, and that wasn't even counting the fact that they were more than likely Malygos' servants. Before long, the entirety of the defenders had appeared outside, ready for the impending battle, and the invaders came to a halt.

One sorcerer, garbed in deep blue robes, stepped forward and called out. "Give up this land and the one who resides here and we shall leave peacefully," he said.

"Unfortunately, we regret to inform you that your request simply isn't possible," Simonee replied, his face set in a frown.

"That is rather unfortunate. But not for us. Malygos' will be done, attack!"

Immediately, Simonee set a ward in front of the defenders, which deflected a barrage of spells loosed at the mage's order. As soon as the salvo dissipated, Garret roared and charged forth, readying his hammers to strike the first unfortunate soul to be near him. Swinging his right-hand weapon, he brought one across a mage's face, a sharp crack resonating out from the strike. With his left hand, he battered away a frostbolt aimed his way. Quickly redirecting the momentum of the hammer, he struck the next mage in his path, which happened to be the one who had called the attack. When he was successfully mired within the midst of the mages, he began causing as much havoc as he could, calling upon the elements to protect him as best they could. Small quakes caused scores of mages to lose their footing, causing their spells to go wild, some even impacting upon unsuspecting allies.

Garret caught sight of Dagerly in the wake of his mayhem, slipping into the shadows and striking at whichever spellcaster was in arms' reach. Some of them hadn't even a chance to see him before the wounds from his daggers began to stain their blue robes red.

While his attention was elsewhere, Garret was blindsided by a frostbolt, sending shards of ice into his shoulder pads, some of which slipping through the thick mail and into his flesh. With a shout, Garret began his assault anew, striking down mages in the hopes that he would catch the one who had hit him. As he shoved a hammer into the gut of one such unfortunate sorcerer, he spotted another aiming a spell his way. Noting that there wasn't a way to avoid being in the spell's path by the time it reached him, he brought one of his mallets up to try and defend himself. Before the spell was loosed, however, Dagerly appeared, seemingly from nowhere. He kicked the mage in the back of the knee, causing him to lose the spellwork. After that, it was short work of a dagger in the neck to ensure that the man wouldn't be a threat. Garret nodded his thanks to Dagerly, who returned the gesture before moving on.

Garret lost track of how many sorcerers he felled during the battle, but eventually, someone had called for them to retreat, and the rest of the force fled back down the hill to wherever they had mustered. He stood at the top of the ramp and watched as Malygos' men marched down. His maces and armor were coated in blood, and a small bit to his chagrin, some of that being his own. His shoulder stung from where the frostbolt tore into his armor, and after the ice melted he began noticing blood seeping from the wound.

Satisfied that the mages were indeed leaving, Garret hooked his weapons onto his belt and surveyed the aftermath of the battle. The defenders looked exhausted, and a few had taken a hit or two, but they had all been standing, which was more than he could say about a lot of the invaders. Between the mages' devastating spells, his frenzied hammers, and everything else, they had more than made a dent into the force Malygos sent to apprehend Archmage Evanor.

At least a hundred sorcerers lied, dead or wounded, at the base of the tower. With such an impressive number of downed enemies, Garret was surprised they didn't take more out of him or his friends. He got the impression that they were merely testing the defenses, and not quite putting their all behind the offensive. Regardless, he had made sure that they were unsuccessful, and that was all that mattered for the moment. He would worry about the circumstances later.

Before heading back into the tower to wind down, a thought occurred to him. There had been a dragon taking post at the top of the ramp leading into Amber Ledge just that afternoon; why hadn't he helped defend the tower as well? He understood why the group was needed to help protect Evanor – after all, they were visitors, and her hospitality depended on their help – what he didn't understand was why the dragon refused to fight alongside them. He began searching out the dragon to find some answers.

He obviously wasn't at his usual station near the tower in his self-made flower bed, nor did he seem to be in the starry night sky. Thinking that perhaps the dragon had shifted forms and tread into the tower itself, Garret headed inside. Just through the doorway, he spotted the archmage, Evanor, peering outside, her arms folded and her face set in a scowl. She would likely be a good source for an answer to his question, Garret decided.

"Quite the battle," she noted, eyes still sharp and watching for any trickery. "You and your band performed rather admirably, I must say. Not what I was expecting from a group such as yours."

Garret nodded politely. "We've seen our share of conflict. Usually not of this scale, but conflict nonetheless. Anyway, there's a question you may be able to answer for me..."

Evanor turned and met his gaze. "What is it?" she asked.

"Where was the dragon through all of this? I'm sure he would have proven a most valuable ally," Garret said, turning to face the exit.

"While it is true that Surristrasz would have been able to... expedite your victory here, that would ultimately serve to doom this place. While Surristrasz keeps his presence here a secret to Malygos and his forces, the aspect of magic would have little reason to concern himself with a mere archmage. If he can slowly whittle me down, he will eventually be able to capture me and some of the Kirin Tor's most dangerous secrets would be within his grasp. If Surristrasz makes himself known, suddenly everything changes. If there's a dragon here protecting me, then there's suddenly cause for more drastic measures, like, say, sending dragons of his own flight here to incapacitate or kill him and then capture me directly."

"But then, what's the point of him being here in the first place if he's such a large risk to your security?" Garret asked, raising an eyebrow.

"To keep the smaller prey in check... like you and yours. It proves effective enough, and lets me work in relative peace. I find that the positives outweigh the negatives, if only because Surristrasz himself is great at knowing when his presence is necessary and when he needs to vanish."

"I see. Thank you, archmage."

"You're welcome. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to get back to my studies. These things don't appreciate being left to themselves, and I'd rather not keep them waiting long."

Evanor ascended the ramp leading to the higher reaches of the tower, leaving Garret to continue watching the plateau as his friends collected themselves further. A sharp sting in his shoulder reminded him of the frostbolt that speared him during the fighting, and he sighed. Tired and sore, he again sat on the cool stone floor and began his meditation anew, adding a small prayer to the earth for a clean mend to his wound.