Dark Wind
Runa couldn't help but grin like a fool for the entire flight to Silverpine Forest. Ever since she'd been raised from the dead a few years ago, her life had been a constant struggle for recognition of her achievements. Rabia, one of the greater val'kyr and the one who'd raised her, was a cruel master who demanded perfection but never appreciated it. Queen Sylvanas, a benevolent ruler whose attention was pulled in a hundred directions at once, assigned Runa to monitor a rogue mad scientist whose well-meaning experiments bore a certain risk of embarrassment for the faction. Bunsenburger, said mad scientist, was inattentive and flippant. Zulgha, her most frequent partner in crime, legitimately cared for Runa's wellbeing but also relentlessly tormented her in a bizarre form of tough love and hierarchical dominance. To hear a kind word for all of Runa's valuable work was rare for her.
Among the other lesser val'kyr, however - more recently raised ones who were under her command, no less - Runa finally felt comfortable being herself.
Baldrun, a quiet one with a wondrous wavy hairstyle with a side undercut, flew forward to speak as the ten of them soared toward a rendezvous point far in between the nearest Forsaken settlements. "Is it much farther, ma'am?" Baldrun asked deferentially.
Nobody had ever called her that before, causing Runa to grin widely again. "We should be...the place that Bunsenburger had marked on the map was about here."
After a few more clicks south, Baldrun sped up to fly next to her again. "There...I see them perched on that really high tree near the shore."
Sure enough, the latest applicants were stationed right where their letter said they would be. In a single line rising above the rest in the area were ten Tirisfal duskbats hanging upside down from the massive branches. Seated above them on the top of the same branches were ten Forsaken citizens - undead humans, a blood elves, and an orc - wearing matching leather armor and flying goggles. According to their introductory letter, they were the remnants of a former guild specializing in aerial combat until most of their number had perished at the Broken Shore. They'd been very highly recommended by several references, but Bunsenburger had insisted that they be observed in a tryout as a matter of policy. Not only did they have a bone to pick with the Legion, but they did with other mortals as well; the moment that Runa approached and hovered in front of them, their leader began talking.
"Hi, how are you," the undead human with only one ear said without turning up the inflection of his voice at the end. "We're the Dark Wind. Are you the Flight of the Valkyries?"
"That is correct, citizen."
"Right good, good, listen," he said without a second's pause, "you want a demonstration, right? Well, this bunch of Gilneans camping below us flipped us the bird when we flew by. One of them even pointed their gun at old Murray here."
The other human male, a non-decayed but cursed undead with a brittle mustache and sideburns, nodded. "They pointed their gun at me," the strangely overweight Forsaken repeated.
"So we were thinking, why don't we use them for our demonstration." One of the u dead blood elves elbowed the chatty human in the side, as if reminding his comrade that they were the ones being tested. "I mean, if that's what you all want. With all respect."
Since her youngers remained silent and held formation, Runa had to fight off another grin as she found herself as the default leader for the whole endeavor. "That's an excellent idea, riders of the Dark Wind. Tell me, is it true that your specialty is aerial sniping at ground targets?"
The leader of the bat riders smiled at the flattery, though his smile looked halfway like a grimace. "Sister, we can snipe, we can snipe snipers...we do it all. Nobody can hit a moving target in the ground while also moving in the air like we can. We don't miss."
Murray, who had to be the only undead with a double-chin that Runa had ever seen, nodded again. "We don't miss, miss."
Amused by their chattiness but wary of their cockiness, she tried to steer the conversation back to the main topic. "Good, so you're aerial fighters who target ground troops. We, our unit, are aerial fighters who target other aerial units. We're interceptors. I think we can work together quite well."
The chatty human understood her point. "You keep any other fliers off our backs, we keep anyone on the ground from trying to bring you down," he said with a confidence that was as inspiring as it was suspect. "Got it."
Without waiting for her order, the ten undead Forsaken stirred on the branches, scooting over such that each was sitting directly over their bats. With little finesse, they crawled on to the backs of the oversized mammals, buckling themselves in to the harnesses while suspended upside down. Their unofficial spokesperson glanced back up at Runa.
"Just give the word, miss."
"It is given," she replied, finally using a line she'd once practiced in front of the mirror but never had the opportunity to actually use.
Clicking with their mouths, the bat riders gave a sort of signal to their mounts, and the animals dropped from the branches. Their maneuverability was quite impressive, especially to a val'kyr; Runa's kind were built for power, not flexibility, and the way the bat riders swooped straight up into the air and practically rotated around as a warm up was quite a sight.
Baldrun floated up next to her again. "Ma'am, I can't actually see any of these Gilneans due to all the trees."
"Don't worry; this is their demonstration. Let's just follow their lead and observe."
Gemma, who had been hovering behind the group until then, sounded disappointed. "We won't be able to participate at all?" she asked.
Technically, they shouldn't...but the combination of being assigned leadership of the group and not having battles in weeks was the deciding factor. "Let's follow...they might require assistance."
Swooping down once the bat riders had disappeared beneath the canopy, Runa led her subordinates at a slower pace. The sound of screeches and growls already reached her ears, and she had to fight to restrain herself from attacking and merely find an advantageous spot to observe.
All along the hills were tents and campfires. Gilneans were scampering everywhere in a panic, outnumbering the Valkyries and a Dark Wind by two to one. Most of the Gilneans remained in human form, though a number of them shifted into worgen as they ran for cover. Already, the sound of gunshots rang out from the ground. The Gilneans were notorious for their gunsmithing - they were the only humans who could rival dwarves - and the amount of lead flying toward the sky was formidable.
True to form, the bat riders broke formation and scattered, fluttering around the very top of the canopy as they led the sharpshooters on a wild goose chase. At no point did any of the bats appear threatened, and the way the riders repeated the same course over a few minutes made it look like they were toying with the Gilneans. Perhaps most ironically, none of the riders were actually firing back.
Branches and pine cones fell as the Gilneans on the ground became more agitated and fired more wildly, so much so that a few of them inadvertently rage-shifted into worgen and continued shooting as if nothing was awry. Their reload times became a bit longer, and more than a few of them had to flee and search for more ammunition.
After a few minutes of dodging, the Dark Wind began their slow offense. An undead human woman, a tiny little thing with most of her face deteriorated, took the first shot. Rather than blasting wildly, she took careful aim and even circled her target a few times. In less than a second, the brains of a Gilnean gunner were splattered on the ground, felling the target with a single shot. More of the worgen-form Gilneans howled, furious that they'd lost one of their own.
The bat riders were fascinating to watch. At no point did any of them express glee or particular enjoyment of their task, nor did they ever slow their almost nauseatingly high speeds. A few times, they even swooped away from the Gilneans camp entirely, regrouping and assaulting from a different direction. Their previous bravado was deserved: they were efficient, exact and excellent in their execution. In just over five minutes, most of the camp was decimated, especially since the undead orc circled the entire area and sniped any Gilneans attempting to run away.
Just as Runa had despaired that she'd only be observing that day, she heard a warning cry that was music to her ears.
"Dogies at three o'clock!" shouted the undead blood orc.
Sure enough, three of the worgen-form Gilneans had mounted gryphons and were rapidly ascending toward the bat riders. The gryphons were not only fast but also more fearsome than the bats, and the angry worgen were likely to make short work of the undead were they to reach them.
The nine newer val'kyr began to beat their wings even faster as they watched, itching for a fight. For the first time since she'd been raised, Runa found herself in control of a real combat situation rather than under control, and she almost felt dizzy with excitement despite her undead state. Her subordinates, however, faithfully waited for her order.
"Gemma, Baldrun, stay on my left flank; when we get closer, you both strike at the target on our far left there. Varpul, Palmira, on my right. The rest of you hang back as reserve troops!"
"Yes ma'am!" they all answered with as much gusto as raspy voiced specters could muster.
"Let's go!"
The first five val'kyr burst forward, pushing themselves as quickly as their heavy (by undead standards) essences could move. Responding well to the coordination, a few of the bat riders started to fly toward the rear five val'kyr on reserve, forcing the worgen to face down their main interceptors head on. Bearing no weapons other than their teeth and claws, the wolf men howled in rage at the loss of their entire contingent. The bat riders passed underneath the val'kyr, accepting their protection so they could finish off the remaining Gilneans on the ground.
Worgen and gryphons snapped their jaws and beaks alike, vicious and ready for the collision. At the last second, Baldrun and Gemma shifted into an under-over formation, with Baldrun under and slightly forward. Enraged, unfocused and unprepared, the worgen on the far left hesitated for just a second too long. Baldrun impaled its gryphon in the stomach with a pike from beneath, allowing Gemma to swing downward with a ridiculously oversized mace that looked more like a stone column for a pavilion with a short handle attached to it. The force of the downward smash to the worgen's head was so great that the two furry beasts shot straight down without even continuing forward, and Baldrun actually had to chase them halfway to the ground in order to save her weapon.
Undeterred, the two other worgen attempted to dive straight for the remaining val'kyr. Slower but also able to float in place, Runa allowed herself to stop, ascend, and thrust her pike at the worgen in the middle. Palmira, to her right, also shot out with her own pike, and both points punched holes in the soft flesh of the gryphon's head and talons. Varpul, waiting on the outside of the formation, stopped in place and held out her weapon defensively, forcing the last gryphon to curve outside and avoid them entirely. The worgen who'd been riding the now dismembered gryphon in the middle leapt on Palmira, its claws latching on to her arms and shoulders. Though she was tough enough to withstand the scratches, the beast was her size, and its weight began to perilously pull her down to certain doom.
In what must have been a minor miracle, Murray sped by the group and shot the worgen in the meat of its shoulder, expertly avoiding any collateral damage to Palmira's wings. Varpul stabbed the worgen in the other shoulder, peeling it off of her companion like a flea and shaking her pike until it slid off. A second shot from the rotund undead human ripped through both of the worgen's knees, ensuring a swift death once it hit the ground.
"Thank you, kind sir!" Palmira shouted across the wind.
Winking in a way that would have been suave had he not been so out of shape, Murray continued to circle around, leaving his comrades to finish the extermination job below. There was precious little time to celebrate, however, as the last worgen rider had curved back around and was charging at them from the other direction, using them as undead shields in case Murray tried to open fire.
"Victory for Gilneas!" the worgen growled just as its gryphon screeched so loudly that the sound was painful.
This time, Runa wanted to try a new tactic she'd been thinking of. "Break!" she ordered, and her subordinates scattered as the interceptors ironically broke formation for the sort of unit they were supposed to block. Unable to stop movement during flight like they could, the gryphon continued flying forward.
"Seize it!" Runa yelled with more enthusiasm than she'd even realized she had, grabbing on to the gryphon's hind legs at the same time.
Slowed by her resistance, the gryphon momentarily lost its balance and almost bucked the worgen from its back. Since she was gripping the gryphon by the ankles, it couldn't scratch her, leaving it no option other than wiggling a lot and whipping her in the face with its tail.
Crying out with glee, two of the reserve val'kyr each grabbed one of the gryphon's wings and began pulling as hard as they could in opposite directions, stretching the creature out and almost halting its flight in midair. The worgen tried to scratch at them, immediately finding a good chunk of its hands blown off by two crack shots by Murray.
Letting go of the gryphon's legs, Runa flew forward and pulled her weapon out again, slipping it around the worgen's neck and using the shaft to put it in a sleeper hold. The beast was much heavier than she'd realized, but with the tug of war being played with the gryphon's wings, she managed to pull the worgen off and leave it dangling in the air. This time it was one of the other bat riders who took out the gryphon, though Runa couldn't see which one it was.
"Grab its legs!" she ordered, and two more of her comrades who she'd left in reserve slung their pikes over their backs and grabbed a worgen leg each.
This time the pulling was much more violent, and Runa heard an audible snap as her subordinates pulled its legs out of the sockets at the hip. Howling and growling, the worgen attempted to scratch her with its mutilated claws, smearing blood all over her armor but otherwise not having any effect. Worried that her perfect black braids might get blood on them, she dropped the beast, and this time the bat riders let it plummet to the ground without shooting it.
Baldrun was so thrilled that she let out a little hoot, and the undead human woman high fived her in midair. The thinner of the two undead human males flew alongside Runa as they surveyed the site of the destruction.
Smirking smugly, the man slung his rifle over his shoulder. "Like what you see?" he asked, and this time the confidence of the Dark Wind bat riders didn't arouse her skepticism.
"Follow us to Tirisfal!" she shouted while leading them all back north. "The doctor will want to see this!"