Disclaimer: I, once again, don't own WoW, I merely own what's left of my sanity
A/N: Sorry, I let this slip by me. I know, I told you, no more of those extreme breaks, but schoolwork made my days hell. Anyway, I'm going to try a little different writing style for at least this chapter, and I need feedback as to if you like it or not.
Oh, and happy Hallow's End, all
Destiny's Warriors
Chapter Eleven: Desperation
Morning in the dream came early yet again, the blindingly bright sun just starting to show its rays curling above the foothills of the Alterac Mountains, snow-capped and majestic, standing above the small mage-town of Dalaran. The inn buzzed with life as the morning crew began their preparations for breakfast, and the activity below stirred the young Simonee's senses. He woke up, sitting straight in the bed whilst getting all of his bearings. The morning drowsiness shaken off, he dressed himself in a simple white tunic overlaying a pair of tan linen breeches, and bounded barefoot down the double flight of stairs leading to the ground-level floor. Simonee the elder, still projected into the vision of his past, could only smile at the youthfulness he once held. Was it really so long ago? He couldn't tell, but decided to join his counterpart below.
The young one, full of energy, had once again only ordered eggs and toast, but, this time, adding a small luxury; the hash on his plate smelled exquisite, and had only cost him one or two silver pieces more than his regular faire. He meditated at a faster-than-normal pace, his brain racing through all of the known spells. Maybe that practice casting had helped more than he had known last night. Finished with his meal and brain exercises, he ran back upstairs to the room gifted him for his stay, however long that may be, and found his boots. He pulled them on haphazardly, nearly putting the one boot on the opposite foot.
The brisk, early November air reminded him of autumn in Stormwind, and he had felt the panging longing again in his gut. He missed his home city greatly, having only seen it once previously. He had lived in Quel'Thalas since the age of five, learning how to read books, how to think clearly, and most spectacularly, how to cast spells. He had been especially interested in the fire talents, excelling at them; confounded at the other ones. The biting wind brought him back to his little walk, unnatural even for being so close to the permanently snow-covered province of Alterac. He realized at once what it all meant.
He ran fast as he could to the town center, the disturbing visions of the once-beautiful Quel'Thalas flooding into his mind. Reaching the small pedestal at the center, he shouted at the top of his lungs "SCOURGE!"
Clamoring out of the houses, the population of Dalaran ran to Simonee's voice, unnerved by even the mention of the undead being anywhere close to the town. The mayor fought through the half-dressed populace, dressed in nothing more than a blue silk set of sleeping clothes.
"How can you be so sure, young sir?" he asked, genuinely worried.
"Feel the wind? That's the exact wind I felt during the siege of Quel'Thalas. It's the Scourge, I know," replied Simonee, scared, yet calm.
The mayor mumbled something inaudible for a few moments, probably weighting the words of the young man standing on the platform ahead of him. Meanwhile, clouds roiled overhead, black clouds, concealing the sun and darkening the horizon.
"I give you, at the most, two hours. They will be here by today, though, be sure at least of that," said Simonee solemnly. The one true utopia for him, and the Scourge once again had to take it all away. Quite simply, he felt stolen from. He wanted nothing more than to settle down, to learn the ways of the mages. To become a caster without all the added rush. He cursed Arthas in a low voice, Ner'Zhul in a much louder one. The mayor finally broke out of his hypnotization, and finally agreed with Simonee's reasoning.
"I know we haven't had time to prepare properly for the coming of Arthas, but now we must make haste. Everyone, take your positions. We must stop the Scourge from getting this town," cried out the mayor. He turned back to Simonee and simply stated "Get to the gryphons. You must escape."
Simonee only nodded and began to run. He heard the mayor yell out, "All mothers and children, get inside the town, come out for nothing. Men and unwed women circle the perimeter!"
The townsfolk did as told, the mothers taking their children back inside the houses, while the rest stayed outside, taking up posts around the town of Dalaran. The wind had strengthened yet again, the gusts almost enough to snap trees in its wake. The mages started chanting a shield spell, one Simonee had known well, but never used.
A gryphon had been hovering above the town, Simonee atop its back, watching the events unfold below him. The gryphon had a long, flowing silver mane, the strands seemingly suspended in the wind. On its hide was a deep, rich mahogany fur which stood out against the grey clouds. Simonee felt he had to do something, and so started his own chant, filling in the top of the bubble around the town. With the spell in-casting, he looked around, and noticed, among the mountain range, Scourge soldiers running through the narrow paths. As the Scourge rushed towards Dalaran, so too did the clouds in the sky, growing yet still increasingly violent and black.
Looking back down towards the city, and at the almost-finished shield spell, and sighed. Unless they had a way of keeping that spell working without them, Dalaran would fall. The purple bubble complete, the mayor could be heard calling out commands.
"Anchor the shield to the mana banks! Hurry, the Scourge are near!"
As the townsfolk worked, Simonee led the gryphon on to Stormwind, never to see Dalaran in all its glory again.
Simonee woke from the dream and looked around at the strange surroundings. He noticed copious amounts of stone, and by that, he gathered that he was still in Stormwind. The candlelight was ample enough for him to tell that he was also in the Keep. The bright white was almost enough to blind him. The first of the people to notice him was Krionoso.
"That was quite a nasty hit you took. You alright?" he asked.
"Yeah, as far as I can tell. How's the rest of the group... better yet, what the hell happened?"
"Well, there was the fight. That much you probably know already, if the blow didn't knock your wits halfway across Azeroth. You got hit by some nasty-big rocks. We got you to safety and then drove them back, so nothing too big," replied Krionoso. What seemed like only hours of dream-time was actually days in real time, meaning Simonee was out for quite a while. There was alot of catching up he needed to do.