IV

Thrall watched as the Earth-Warder slept soundly. Neltharion turned in the bed, shifting the sounds of his low purr as he reached a deeper level of slumber. For once, Neltharion was having some happy dreams. His nightmares were gone while he slept under the induction of intoxication. A night had gone by since Neltharion landed in Orgrimmar and the sun was just rising. The Earth-Warder snorted just as he slowly opened his eyes. His expression held a dreamy serene look and he turned his green eyes towards Thrall. He smiled at the shaman, blinking away his sleep. Neltharion stretched and yawned, letting his tongue roll out between his fangs.

"Good morning," said Thrall. "Are you alright?"

"My head hurts a little," said Neltharion. "What...what just happened?"

"You got drunk, crashed at the front gate of Orgrimmar," began Thrall. "And then, we lead you inside the city with a barrel of ale."

Neltharion chuckled: "What?"

"You were drunk," said Thrall. "Something I never expected an Aspect could be."

Neltharion chuckled again, holding his head. It was like someone took the largest hammer in the world and decide to bash his head with it consistently. Neltharion moaned a little and took in a deep breath. He turned his head, nuzzling against the furred pillow. The dragon purred.

"This is so soft," he said.

"I think you're still drunk," said Thrall.

"No, just happy," said Neltharion. "I...had a good dream last night. It's been the first happy dream I've had in ten thousand years."

"What dream was that?" asked Thrall.

"I was on a peaceful island, sunbathing," said Neltharion. "Listening to the roll of the waves as they crashed onto the beach. That was it. Nothing else happened. Though I think I saw my sister Ysera there, smiling back. She was happy that I was having a good dream for once."

"Nothing?" asked Thrall. "What sort of dream is that?"

"You don't understand, mortal," Neltharion began as he rose his head up slightly. "My dreams have been nightmares or dreams of sadness. My dreams are all about Deathwing and what he did to me, tormenting me, even...raping me. And I am helpless to stop him. Then, I see what he does to the rest of Azeroth. Or they are the sad dreams, seeing the death of my flight and knowing we may never be as strong as we once were before the fall from grace. Just dreaming about lying on a beach listening to the ocean is an enormous step from that. I was happy on that island." He looked over seeing the barrel of ale that Aggra had placed in the room. "The liquor helped me have that dream. It made me happy."

"Unfortunately, ale can be evil as well," said Thrall. "It makes people do horrible things without thought."

"I know," he said. "My mind was so dulled by the ale, the Old Gods could not torment me in my dreams again."

"Old Gods?" asked Thrall. He leaned closer to the bed and placed his hand on Neltharion's chest. "Are they talking to you again?"

"Yes," said Neltharion.

"Why? Do they want Deathwing to return?"

"No," said Neltharion. His soft smile faded and his eyes began to water. His lip trembled as he felt a sob come on. "They only wish for me to end my life."

"Do you want to end it?"

"A part of me does," he said, wiping his eyes. "But when I visited the Nexus, Malygos spoke to me. He said I should go out into the world and find myself. Maybe if I find myself, I will find the strength I need to keep the Old Gods from tormenting me and I can be the Earth-Warder I was meant to be. I need to find the strength you told me I had."

Neltharion laid his head back on the pillow.

"That barrel over there," he began. "Could I have something to drink from it?"

He held out his black claw towards the barrel, turning it up.

"I'm not going to let you drink yourself to destruction," said Thrall. "Besides, your hiccups cause earthquakes."

Neltharion chuckled again.

"It's not funny," said Thrall. "You are Azeroth, you hiccup, it hiccups. And if you do it, Garrosh will surely be furious."

"You think I care what Garrosh thinks?" Neltharion asked. "I am...the Earth-Warder. This whole city is built on my...earth. If he so much as cross me, I can do more than just make Azeroth hiccup."

Thrall leaned over and stared into Neltharion's eyes.

"With your reputation," he began. "I don't think you want to do that."

Neltharion looked away, sighing, his eyes becoming heavy again.

"You're right. I don't. Thrall, please, a drink?"

Thrall sighed and opened up the barrel. He dipped a bronze cup into it and brought it to Neltharion. The Earth-Warder sipped at it. Just as soon as he downed the cup, he handed it back to Thrall, wanting more. Thrall filled it up again.

"I think the humans call this alcoholism," said Thrall.

"I call it trying to numb myself from the horrors inflicted upon me," said Neltharion. He leaned up and took the cup again. After several more shots, the Black Dragon started to hiccup. He giggled, his face flushing under the black scales. Aggra came inside when she felt the tremors start again.

"Is he hiccuping again?" she asked.

"He is," said Thrall.

"Garrosh isn't going to like this," said Aggra. "We have to get him out of Orgrimmar, now!"

Thrall pulled the covers off of Neltharion and grabbed his claw.

"Come on, let's go," he said. Neltharion moaned as he got up off the bed, his head still swimming a little. His vision seemed to crack with stars just as he attempted to rise from the bed. Neltharion rolled off the bed, hitting the floor. Thrall grunted, lifting a palm to his face and shaking his head. The Earth-Warder rose up from the floor, his body shaking and his vision filled with even brighter stars. Aggra and Thrall took hold of Neltharion and slowly guided him down the stairs.

"What about the ale?" Neltharion asked.

"Forget the ale," said Aggra.

Thrall and Aggra lead the Earth-Warder out the door of the inn and down through the streets of Orgrimmar. Neltharion hiccuped, causing another tremor to roll under their feet. Thrall looked up to see some of the buildings attached to the levels of the upper walls begin to shake. The moment they reached the open area before the massive palisade doors, Neltharion shook Thrall and Aggra off of him. His form grew out, becoming bigger. It did not take long for him to reach his true size. While he was returning to his true size, Garrosh followed by his elite warriors marched for them. The Warchief's face twisted into a scowl when he looked upon Neltharion's droopy head. He could still smell a small whiff of the ale.

"Thrall!" he bellowed. "What's he still doing here?"

"We were just leaving," said Thrall. "You don't have to worry about the Earth-Warder causing anymore problems in Orgrimmar."

"Oh, what a shame, and here I was thinking that Deathwing could join the Horde," said Garrosh. "You know, have him raid Stormwind for us."

"Garrosh," began Aggra. "The Earth-Warder must remain a neutral power between the struggles us mortals have. His only concern is to the safety of Azeroth itself."

Garrosh's brown face flushed bright red, his huge hands balled up into tight fists. He let loose a bellow, which only made Neltharion's head pound even more. The Black Dragon knelt down, holding his head with a claw. He growled deeply, curling his lip against his fangs.

"Are all three of you complete morons?" Garrosh asked. "Of course I don't want that blasted monster to join the Horde! He's more trouble than he's worth! Get him the hell out of my damned city!"

"We're going," said Thrall. The doors opened wide to let the three out of Orgrimmar.

"And I don't want that beast near my city ever again, do you understand me?" Garrosh asked.

Neltharion blinked, his eyes narrowed when he heard Garrosh refer to him as a 'beast'. The enormous Black Dragon lowered his head down to the much smaller mortal creature before him, his mouth drew back into a feral sneer. Smoke appeared before his nostrils as his eyes glinted with a deepening, fiery rage.

"What did you call me, soft-body?" he asked the Warchief.

"A beast," said Garrosh. "Which is exactly what you are!"

"I...am...no...beast..." Neltharion said, his growling deeply at the orc.

"Neltharion?" Thrall asked.

"Just a moment, Thrall," said Neltharion. "It's high time this little mortal learns some respect to his betters. Do you have any idea who I am, mortal? Do you know who you are talking to?"

Garrosh snorted, crossing his arms. The warriors around him pulled out their blades, ready to defend their leader, but Garrosh waved to them.

"Lower your weapons," he said. "Tell me, Aspect of Death, just who are you?"

"You are mistaken," said Neltharion. "I am not Deathwing. However, I am Neltharion, the Earth-Warder. Do you like the comfort of knowing you stand on solid ground, mortal?"

"Yes."

"Good," said Neltharion. "I am glad. Each time you walk upon the solid ground of Azeroth, I want you to remember me. I am the master of the ground you walk upon. And if I so wish, I could just decide that Durotar needs a new volcano and have it grow right out from the center of your precious city. The ground you walk on will not seem so solid after all, now would it? I would watch what you say to me next time, Garrosh."

Garrosh paused in his thoughts, blinking for a moment. He was not used to knowing what fear was, but standing so close to the massive Black Dragon's head, he soon learned its meaning. He shuffled his feet with uneasiness, feeling the eyes of the Black Dragon burn away at his flesh. Neltharion had him locked into his gaze and he could not tear away, not even for a moment.

Listen to me, orc. You and your brothers are trespassers upon my precious planet. You are nothing more than bacteria that does not belong here. Unless you wish for me to order Azeroth to expel you from it, I suggest you treat me with more respect.

Garrosh felt his jaw move slightly, opening up and closing much like a fish's mouth when it gasped, suffocating in the air. His arms were limp, but he stood there before Neltharion as solid as a rock. He could not even tremble before the Earth-Warder. Thrall glanced between the two beings locked in their gaze. He began to realize what Neltharion was doing to Garrosh. He heard Neltharion had this sort of power, whether or not it came from the Old Gods or it came from the Titans, he had it. In some ways, he feared what sort of damage the Black Dragon was doing to the mind of Garrosh.

"Neltharion," began Thrall. Neltharion blinked, freeing Garrosh from his solidifying gaze. Garrosh breathed, feeling a relief coming on.

"Thrall," he began, holding his head in his hand. "Just get the dragon out of here."

Not a single word was uttered after that command. Garrosh and his orcs walked away, leaving them to freely leave Orgrimmar. Thrall glanced up at Neltharion.

"What did you do to him?" he asked.

"What I do to many who do not know how to show respect," said Neltharion. "I gave Garrosh a lesson he will never forget."

The doors swiftly shut behind them as they made their way out of the city. On foot all three had gained quite a distance away from Orgrimmar. They followed along the road down towards Thunder Ridge where the Cataclysm had now folded the land like a fan and flooded much of it as well through the river that bordered Orgrimmar and the Northern Barrens. Dotted here and there were a few orcish tents and thunder lizards scurried across the red sand.

"I suppose I caused this as well," said Neltharion, scanning across the flooded chasm.

"Yeah, you did," said Thrall.

"Tell me, flooding a desert chasm," the Earth-Warder began. "Good or bad?"

"Depends on who you talk to," said Thrall.

"On the one hand, many homes were destroyed," said Aggra. "On the other, they have an abundance of water. Thirst is not a problem here anymore and the sandstone cleanses it."

"Why are you asking this?" Thrall asked, coming around to Neltharion's front.

"I wonder if I should fix the damage done," said Neltharion. He turned his head to the sound of orc children splashing in the water on the shore. The Black Dragon smiled. "Maybe not."

"You would make this a thirsty land again," said Aggra. "I hope those children will be careful. There are crocolisks in these waters."

"They won't get me!" Neltharion announced just as he ran for the waters. The massive Black Dragon dove into the river, splashing around with his wings playfully in the water. Thrall and Aggra could not help but to laugh at him as he rolled around in the Southfury River. Neltharion lifted his head out, snorting some of the water from his nostrils. Rising up, rivets of water began to run lines off of his black scales and adamantine plates. He fan his wings and shook the water off, sending it in sheets for the two orcs. His throat frill rippled, shaking the rest of the water off of him. Then, Neltharion laughed loudly, sending a mighty tremor through the ground with the sound of his voice. Thrall sensed the ground beneath him, feeling this vibration of happiness echoing deep within the desert. The vibration came from Neltharion. Ten thousand years and this was the very first time he could allow himself to laugh and play. He just wanted to enjoy his freedom.

"Come in, shaman!" Neltharion called out to Thrall. "The water's fine!"

"No thank you," said Thrall. "Those crocolisks might not like you, but I'm sure they'll like me."

"The mighty Thrall afraid to get a little wet?" Aggra asked.

"No, let's just let him have his fun," said Thrall.

Neltharion eyed him with a mischievous thought. Angling his body sideways, he raised his tail up out of the water. Thrall looked up just as the blade came down, splashing into the water and sending a mighty wave for him. Both orcs ducked down as the wave washed over them, thoroughly drenching them in water. Thrall pulled back his hood and shook his head, slinging the water around with his braids. He looked back at Aggra, who was laughing and shaking the water off of her. The air filled with Neltharion's boisterous laughter and the ground continued to vibrate beneath them. He had not laughed like this in over ten thousand years. He missed laughter.

"Oh, you think you're funny, don't you?" Thrall asked, shaking the last bit of water off of him.

The Black Dragon emerged from the bank, slinging the rest of the water off of him and onto Thrall again.

"I'm a hoot!" he replied. "Besides, unless you want to ride on my back, you'll have to get in that river sooner or later."

"I was hoping you'd offer your back," said Thrall. "It would save our feet."

Neltharion's bright face grew dark and his head dipped down: "I'm...having a little trouble flying."

"You are?" Thrall asked.

"I haven't had control of my body in so long," began Neltharion. "I've forgotten how to fly properly. I fly as awkwardly as a whelp."

"Well, you're not going to get any better by walking," said Aggra. "You need the practice. So, fly us over the river."

"The sooner we can get aloft, the faster we'll get to the the Great Divide," said Thrall.

"The Great Divide?" asked Neltharion. He took in a deep breath upon realizing what Thrall was referring to. "Oh...that. Why do you want to show me that?"

"Because you need to see it," said Thrall. "It'll give you perspective."

"Perspective," said Neltharion. He lowered his damp body down, extending an enormous, muscled foreleg out to the two orcs. They began to climb up the foreleg, taking hold of his scales as they scaled to the top. Aggra and Thrall soon took hold of the adamantine plates that were fitted to this spines and threw themselves up onto his shoulders. Once Neltharion felt that they were comfortable, he slowly rose. Thrall knew there was a huge difference between riding on Kalecgos and riding on Neltharion. Kalecgos' neck was not early as thick.

"Hold on as tightly as you can," said Neltharion.

He took off in a gallop across the bank of the river, kicking up dust as he went. Thrall looked over his side to see the two massive, black, tattered wings begin to unfurl. He noticed some of the adamantine armor were still on the leading digits. Alexstrasza could not remove all of them, it seemed. Though, it did give Neltharion character, but Thrall had a feeling that particular character was not what Neltharion wanted. He ducked down as the wind began to rush up against his face. Aggra wrapped her arms around his thick waist, pressing up against him. She closed her eyes tightly, praying to the Earth Mother that it would all be over soon as Neltharion picked up speed. Neltharion gave a swift flap of his wings and then leapt into the sky, followed by another powerful downbeat. For a while, he flew rather low to the ground, dust continued to rise with the wind his wings caused, but then he slowly began to rise. Thrall could feel the powerful muscles in the Black Dragon working in harmony as they rose him higher and higher. Thrall had to take a moment to realize what he was doing. He was riding on Deathwing's back. When Neltharion turned his head slightly, an emerald eye focusing upon Thrall, those thoughts immediately vanished. This was not Deathwing, nor will he ever want to be Deathwing. He was Neltharion, the Earth-Warder, a being that shamans like Thrall should have come to respect and admire for his wisdom and love of the earth and the life that grew upon it. It was a shame that never came to be within the ten thousand years Deathwing had control. Thrall hoped that he could be the first that would give the respect a shaman should to the Earth-Warder, and someday show others the same as well. After all the druids had Ysera, the mages had Kalecgos, healers and protectors of life had Alexstrasza as the symbol of their ideals to live up to, the shamans had no Aspect to turn to for guidance when they needed it. Most of the time, they would turn to Ysera, but still, they had no one.

Until now.

It was all about trying to reconnect with him after ten thousand years of nothing.

Neltharion scanned the ground as he flew over it. The desert gave way to the savannah that he once flew over while drunk off of ale. He hoped that perhaps one of the settlements that covered the Northern Barrens would have some barrels of ale there. He could not find the settlements, but what he did find was rather disturbing. Before him in the long stretch of land was a massive, glowing scar. He smelled the scent of brimstone burning in the air and clouds of choking smoke rise up from the glowing sound splitting the Barrens.

The Shattering caused this, his Shattering.

The upheaval of the ground that split the Barrens caused, sharp mountain ranges to rise up following the length of the crack. Neltharion landed just at the very edge of the Great Divide, a name adequately given, and peered over its cliff. Churning, bubbling, flaming rivers of molten lava flowed out from a deep fissure below and continued to run along the gorge itself. Parts of the river had cooled, creating blackened, solidified scum at the top that jiggled each time gas would burst from it in heated air and flames. He heard the chasm hiss and bubble, which, for the first time, made him sick to his stomach.

"Oh..." Neltharion swallowed his bile as he turned his head away. "Oh...what have I done? What have I done?"

He leaned down to the ground and Thrall and Aggra slid off his back.

"Why did you want me to come here?" asked Neltharion.

"Perspective," said Thrall.

"What does that mean?"

"Look at all that has happened," said Thrall. "Just by your eruption out of Deepholm. That should tell you something."

"It tells me that the last thing my powers should be is in the wrong hands," said Neltharion. He stared back at the chasm. "Even mine."

"That's not it at all," said Thrall.

"You tell me then!" said Neltharion. "This land of Kalimdor. There was no other land than that of Kalimdor long ago. Then the Sundering happened. I was partially responsible for that! Deathwing's little device that he made me create, when it fell into the wrong hands..." he paused and extended his wings, leaning back onto his haunches with his forelegs spread wide. "BOOM! Just...BOOM. I had a job to do, my job...I kept the world from being harsh and hazardous. I made sure that the people who lived here never wanted for nothing. Azeroth was a paradise! That was my job, to make sure everyone had what they needed, resources, water, fertile land, clean air...so there would be no wars. No one would fight over never having enough of one thing because they had enough of what they needed and even more! I made sure they had the freedom to do whatever they wanted...then the Sundering happened, caused by a fallen Titan, but I helped."

He paused for a moment, his voice cracking into a sob. Neltharion wiped a tear away from his eyes.

"We all banded together against the Burning Legion, strength in numbers. Dragons and the mortals we protected. But my Demon Soul, the secret weapon Deathwing made me shed my own blood upon to create, it did more than just destroy the demons, it created fear for all. And I sat and watched through my distorted vision while Deathwing commanded my body to crush everyone including our allies. And then following the Sundering, he lowered the mountains and took away the resources. With my powers he made the air foul, water poisoned, and land dry and infertile. The people of Azeroth had no choice but to then turn upon their brothers for the very need of survival and Deathwing just laughed at their struggles. The War of the Ancients may have been the first war upon Azeroth, but it was not the first war that Azerotheans were forced to fight against each other in. The War of the Ancients was a war to protect Azeroth, but all other wars..."

Neltharion shook his head.

"You have no idea what pain this has caused me," he said to Thrall and Aggra. "To sit and watch my world be torn apart by nothing more than an emotion that anyone could have. Everyone has anger, everyone has hatred for something. It's natural. But to see it personified and take control...and be shackled and made to watch as that demon destroy all that I vowed to protect. It's inexcusable. Seeing my flight be killed off by all the other flights, yes, that hurt me too. Not as much as this. Though, it wasn't their fault. Deathwing's evil infected them and they did not act on their own. My flight became nothing more than shadows, puppets that Deathwing danced around upon strings. Some of me was just happy that they did die so that they would not be tormented by him anymore."

He slowly lowered himself to the ground, staring sadly at the massive chasm before him.

"Tell me, what do you call this?" he asked.

"That is the Great Divide," said Aggra.

"No, that's not what I'm talking about," said Neltharion. "I mean all of this, all the destruction that I caused when I came out of Deepholm?"

"That, the Shattering," said Thrall. "Thought you knew that."

"I've heard it being uttered here and there," said Neltharion. "Any other names?"

"Cataclysm," said Aggra. "And the Second Sundering."

"Perfect," said Neltharion sighed. "I helped cause the First Sundering, why not the Second?"

He raised his massive head up and looked out towards the Southern Barrens. Green, fertile land grew all around the area just behind the crack itself. Neltharion felt a small smile upon his face. There was life being made on the other side of the crack.

"What is that?" he asked.

"The Overgrowth," said Thrall. "It was created by a Night Elf druid who wanted to bring life back to some parts of the Barrens. There's shade, cool water, all sorts of plentiful fruits. It's on the Alliance controlled side of the Barrens and stretches to the mountains that border the Dusthallow Marsh. At the center, it is believed that the Emerald Nightmare infected it, but these parts are safe."

"And there's an Alliance camp just to the east inside the Overgrowth," said Aggra. "Where we may find something to eat and drink if they are so generous to members of the Earthen Ring. And since they are affiliated with Theramore Isle, seeing you there, Thrall, may make them friendly to us."

"It's because Jaina still likes me," said Thrall. "I only hope her kindness extends to those she commands as well."

Aggra then turned to Neltharion: "However, I don't think the same would apply to you."

Neltharion lowered his head down to them and they got back on.

"You can tell them you captured me," he said. "And that you're taking me to Theramore."

"Why Theramore?" asked Thrall asked.

"So once there, I can drink myself blind at their tavern," said Neltharion as he leapt over the chasm.

"Not a good idea, Neltharion," said Thrall. "I don't want you getting drunk."

"You are not my mother, mortal," said Neltharion. "Because...I have no mother!"

Thrall lowered his head into his hands and let loose a frustrated groan.

"How do we explain to Jaina about him?" Aggra asked. "We can't just fly into Theramore Isle riding his back."

"Let's hope the camp has a hearthstone then," said Thrall. "I'll be needing to make a call."

0

The last thing Corporal Teegan wanted was to remain in the Overgrowth for another few weeks. Originally, he and his men were ordered to march from Northwatch Hold and invade the Horde-controlled Northern Barrens, but since they sent back reports of the unnatural forest springing up just over night and of course the massive lava-filled crack separating them from their target, they had to make camp. It was then, they got new orders to monitor what all was going on in this area and report back any suspicious activity to their commander. Besides being randomly attacked by raptors or other creatures now finding home in the strange jungle during the day, the nights resting in the Overgrowth were just as rough. At night, he had horrible nightmares. They all had horrible nightmares. A kindly druid stopped by for a rest and Teegan began to chat with him. He learned what was causing his nightmares. The thing called the Emerald Nightmare was making its way into the forest itself and anyone asleep fell pray to it. There was always a threat that they would be caught in their sleep and never to awaken, trapped in the warped vision that had plagued the Green Dream. So, he ordered his men to keep watch each night, taking turns to sleep. So far, the Emerald Nightmare had relinquished some of its hold on the oasis, but its presence was still felt to dreamers.

Ol' Durty Pete, a white-bearded dwarf along with the expedition, managed to concoct a brew of sorts that seemed to stave off the ill effects of the Emerald Nightmare. Unfortunately, it came in the form of the most foul-tasting moonshine mixed with some hallucinogenic mushrooms found around the oasis. It often left the drinker screaming incomprehensible babbles and writing strange symbols in the ground. However, after taking one drink, the corporal ordered that no one should do so ever again. Though that did not stop Pete from stashing the brew.

The sun was setting, but it did not relieve the sticky heat of the jungle. A mosquito flew up and landed on Teegan's cheek. He reached up to smack it off his face. He got up off his chair and straightened his tabard. Upon his chest was the symbol of Theramore Isle, a golden boat anchor, where he was currently assigned to serve. Teegan turned when he heard Hanna Bridgewater walk up to him.

"Sir," she began. "I saw two orcs. They're heading for us."

"Orcs?" he asked. "Goucho, Pete, get your gear! We've got orcs!"

"It's 'bout time," said Goucho as he came towards the tent carrying his large battle axe. "I was gettin' a might bored."

"Corporal," began Hannah. "Here's the thing, I didn't see the Horde banner on them and they don't look like they are spying on anyone. They just look like they're walking through the woods, however, they are heading for our camp."

"Then, we should meet them," said Teegan, drawing his sword. He heard feet shuffle about the forest around them as the two orcs appeared, approaching them. One of the orcs produced a rather massive hammer only to set it down on the ground. The other also lowered her weapons.

"We mean you no harm," called the first orc. "I am Thrall."

"Thrall?" Teegan asked. "Warchief Thrall of the Horde?"

"Ex-Warchief," said Thrall. "I am associated with the Earthen Ring. We are neutral in the troubles between the Alliance and the Horde, however, when I was Warchief, I did promote peace between our two nations."

"Yes, I know," said Teegan. He lowered his sword in kind, finding it better not to threaten the more powerful orc. "What brings you to our camp?"

"I was wondering if you have a hearthstone," said Thrall.

"Why?" asked Goucho. "So you can call your Horde buddies?"

"No," said Thrall. "So I can call Jaina Proudmoore."

"Why would you call Lady Proudmoore?" asked Hannah, tilting her head in confusion.

"I...have a prisoner I wish to hand over to her and Theramore Isle," said Thrall. "And seeing that you bare the mark of Theramore, I would believe you have a way of allowing me to contact her."

"Our stone only reaches to a switchboard in Northwatch Hold," said Teegan. "But before I even let you use our stone, what prisoner do you have that you wish to hand over to the Alliance?"

"Perhaps you should see him for yourself," said Thrall. "Come out, Neltharion."

They felt the tremor of massive footfalls through the dirt and heard the sounds of trees being knocked over one by one. Something enormous was making its way through the enchanted jungle. Thrall turned behind him when he heard a few massive stumbles through the trees. He slowly cast his eyes upward as a massive Black Dragon covered in adamantine plates and an large adamantine lower jaw fumbled through the jungle. The Black Dragon looked to be walking on his left knuckle for some strange reason. With eyes wide, mouths dropped, Teegan, Hannah, and Goucho stared in absolute shock and horror, realizing just who this enormous, black behemoth was.

"It can't be!" Hannah said, stepping back to peer up at the massive Black Dragon.

"I...I don't believe it!" Goucho said.

"Deathwing!" said Teegan. "D–Deathwing? He's your prisoner?"

"Sorta," said Thrall.

"And you're handing him over to us?" asked Hannah.

"Yes," said Aggra.

"Why?" asked Hannah.

"Because Garrosh, the current Warchief kicked him out," said Thrall.

"Kicked him out?" asked Goucho. "Did I just fall asleep and now I'm in some strange dream?"

"I see him too," said Teegan. "So, Garrosh does not want him and you want to hand him over to the Alliance? Um..why?"

"We would like to hand him over to Theramore," said Aggra.

"Why Theramore?" asked Teegan.

"Um," Thrall began, scratching his head. He glanced back up at Neltharion who had an odd, goofy grin on his face. That was when he noticed the cupped claw. "Uh...Neltharion...what's wrong?"

"I was about to..." Neltharion paused and let loose a hiccup. "Ask you the same...thing. Thrall, why are...you purple...and upside-down?"

The Earth-Warder's head wagged heavily and he continued to hiccup. Thrall felt the ground tremble beneath his feet.

"What was that?" asked Hannah.

"That was a hiccup," said Thrall.

"I'd hate to know what a belch is like," said Goucho. "He'd probably make the Divide wider."

"Azeroth's in the sky!" Neltharion giggled, pointing up. to the reddening sky above. "I...I swear I didn't...I didn't put it there!"

"Aggra, what happened to him?" Thrall asked.

"I told him to wait until we got to the camp and he did..."

The Black Dragon fell to his back, kicking up dirt around him. Tears formed in his eyes as he laughed, his maddened giggles interrupted by hiccups.

"Did he hide a barrel from Orgrimmar?" asked Thrall.

"I didn't see one," said Aggra.

"Oh...hi, Mr. Butterfly," said Neltharion, waving a claw at nothing. "Can I have some of that hookah you're smoking?"

"Okay," Hannah began, lifting her hands up to attempt to quieten the odd scene she was taking part of, approaching Thrall. "Besides the fact that thing happens to be Deathwing...is he drunk?"

"He's hallucinating!" said Goucho.

"Oh no..." Teegan sighed as he sat down on a log near the camp fire pit. As if on cue, out came a white-bearded dwarf, looking around as if he lost something.

"Has anyone seen my still?" he asked. He paused when he saw Teegan looking back at him. "Did I say still? I meant my chemistry set..."

"Pete!" Tegan cried. "I told you to get rid of that mushroom-laced hooch!"

"I...uh," Pete began as his eyes shifted around. He then caught the sight of his metallic fermentation machine in the claw of the Black Dragon, who then lifted it up just to drink the final drop. "Oh no! You didn't just...he didn't just...he didn't drink the whole thing, did he?"

"What did he drink?" Thrall asked.

"A mixture of bath salts, druidic remedies for the common cough, the fermented juice of some of the local fruit, that we found safe to eat around here," began Teegan. "And a dried, powdered form of a hallucinogenic mushroom we found growing here."

"The druids use the mushroom in small doses to help them fight the Emerald Nightmare," said Hannah. "We used it to keep ourselves...entertained...as well as keep ourselves from going comatose each time we rested at night. This place had become cursed by the Emerald Nightmare and every time we went to sleep, we ran the risk of getting caught in it. But apparently, the Emerald Nightmare doesn't like drunken, hallucinating morons running around in the nude, calling themselves King Varian Wynn and brandishing a sword, saying that giant invisible rock monsters are out to get them." She turned to Teegan, who then gave a sheepish smile. "Though rock monsters are real, I have yet to get the report on invisible ones. So, I think it's just the booze talking."

"Well, luckily he's already naked," said Thrall. "Don't have to worry about that part."

"So, let me get this straight, Neltharion just drank moonshine?" asked Aggra.

"Moonshine laced with mushrooms used for halucenagenics by druids," said Teegan. "Yes, I know, we decided against drinking anymore of that stuff. Well, most of us."

"Besides it tasting like burning tar," said Hannah.

Thrall turned around to the sounds of Neltharion still giggling.

"There is no way that small still could affect something that big," he said. "Neltharion, did you...eat or drink anything else?"

Neltharion turned to Thrall, grinning with a blank grin.

"Well...I got a little thirsty..." he said, his speech heavily slurred. "And I found that little still. Whatever was in it, it smelled good. But then, after I drank some of that, I just thought...something needed to go with it. So, I found these mushrooms...and a couple of boars..."

"Stop!" said Thrall, raising his hands up to the Earth-Warder. "Alexstrasza is going to eat me knowing that not only did I get you drunk, but also high."

"Alex...Alex...can just...have...a big...metal...pole shoved up...her ass..." Neltharion snorted. His head dropped hard like a rock and his body fell limp. His eyes closed and Thrall could hear the sound of the dragon's loud snore echo through the jungle. The Earth-Warder was out like a light.

"Alright," said Thrall. "He is not going anywhere for a while. Do you mind if we make camp with you?"

"I don't think you have a choice," said Hannah, turning her head to the now unconscious Aspect. "Sir?"

"I suppose we can share our fire with you," said Teegan. "And I can start on that call to Theramore."

He went into the tent for the hearthstone. Hannah looked towards Thrall and then back towards Neltharion.

"Just how did you capture Deathwing?" she asked. "And I thought I heard he was dead."

"It is a long story," said Thrall. "And it is hard to explain. But that is why I need to speak to Jaina. Once we get him to Theramore, perhaps she can then tell Alexstrasza that we have her brother here."

"So, he really isn't your prisoner, is he?" said Hannah.

"No," said Thrall. "But he needs to go back to Dragonblight...before he...gets into more trouble."

"That would be a good idea," said Hannah. "The farther he's away from the inhabited areas of Azeroth, I think the better we all will be."

"Don't let him hear you say that," said Thrall. "I think he's believes he's on some mission to fix all the damage he's done to Azeroth during the Shattering. And also, drink himself blind."

"That's...charitable of him," said Hannah. "But the drinking part..not so much."

"Aye," said Goucho. "Why the change of heart then? Deathwing is all about death."

"Because," began Aggra. "That's not Deathwing, at least not anymore."

0

Commander Tarc got up just as he heard the sound of the stone vibrate on his desk. He reached out to touch it.

"Commander, this is Corporal Teegan from Outpost 58," began the voice emanating from the enchanted stone. "I have come in contact with two orcs from the Earthen Ring."

"Earthen Ring?" Tarc asked.

"One of them being Thrall," said Teegan. "And they have a prisoner they wish to hand over to the Alliance."

"Why would they hand over a prisoner to us?" asked Tarc.

"Because apparently Warchief Garrosh didn't want him," Teegan said in a sigh.

"Who is the prisoner?"

"It's Deathwing."

"Who?" Tarc asked.

"Deathwing," said Teegan.

"Are you sure?" Tarc asked, leaning over to scratch his honey-colored hair.

"I'm sure," said Teegan. "What big black dragon with metal plates welded to his body and a big medal chin do you know of, sir?"

"Deathwing," said Commander Tarc. "And Thrall wants to hand him over to us?"

"Actually, sir," began Teegan. "He specifically stated he wishes to hand him over to Theramore."

"Why Theramore?"

"Um...he didn't specify. But he said he wanted to talk to Lady Proudmoore about it."

"And why is that?"

"Hopefully to send Deathwing back to Dragonblight," said Teegan. "And away from us."

Tarc sighed again, placing his head in his hand. He ran his hand through his hair and took a small moment to take it all in.

"Alright, I will inform Lady Proudmoore," he said. "And you have better be telling the truth in this. And hopefully you're not on that home-grown hooch your dwarf was making."

"I gave it up," said Teegan. "However, Deathwing found where Pete stashed it, and did us the favor and drank the entire still dry."

"He drank it?" asked Tarc. "And..."

"Out cold," said Teegan. "After claiming Azeroth was up in the sky, Thrall was purple, and kept asking an invisible butterfly for his hookah."

"If only I was there," Tarc laughed. "At least he's not...destroying things."

"No, he's just sleeping, but he may wake up with the worst headache he ever had in his life."

"Again, allow me to express my disdain for not being there," said Tarc. "Very well, corporal, I will see if I can pass this on to Lady Proudmoore and I will get back to you tomorrow with your orders on what to do with the ex-Warchief and his...new pet."

"Yes, sir," said Teegan.

"Just keep an eye on both of them."

"That won't be hard, sir.

"Good," said Tarc. "Expect a call from me tomorrow with further orders. Good night, corporal."

"Good night, sir," said Teegan.