And as he slept, he dreamed.
Snow. So much snow. It stretched far off into the distance, layers and layers of it. There was ice too. He was kneeling in the it, Maulbane of course. And in the snow, not the ice. He had a suit of white leather on, bound together by thick, rope-like stitches. His nose-ring had been absorbing the cold around him for days, and it had begun to sting. A pain, like most, he ignored until he could do something about it. In front of him was a piece of yellowed, ripped parchment, with lines, circles and scribbles on it. He sneezed once, and looked around fleetingly. Goretusk was at his left, and two others at his right. A Human and an Elf. Lethium and Seleyn. He looked back to the paper, the lines began to make sense. He knew what he had to do, standing up and walking forward, pushing the parchment into the snow as he did so. His axe tugged at his back, and the leather holding it there. Goretusk followed suit, as did the silent companions. Nobody talked because they knew what they had to do. As they walked the woods around them thickened, the further they went into Lothalor's woods the more trees appeared in the edges of their vision. One of the only true forests remaining in Dragonblight. Sadly enough, it was tainted.
Testament to that taint was rearing its head. They had managed to avoid most of the malignant mana wyrms here, but slowly and surely the ley lines in the area multiplied, and were larger. And where there were ley lines in Northrend, Malygos had intentions for them. Mana Wyrms were in the air, their forms made of swirling arcane energy and their movement like smoke, flitting from spot to spot. Arcane energy was bubbling at the surface of the ground in some places. And, soon enough, they found what they were looking for. It looked like an Ancient of War, but it wasn't one, not anymore. Arcane swirled around the huge tusks protruding from its head, and moved in patterns around its body. The most haunting part, though, was its eyes. People tend to describe beautiful people, or their beloveds, as having "Pools" for eyes. This corrupted Ancient had pools of malignant Arcane energy for eyes, erratically spinning and looping around itself, as it roared and screamed, out of pure rage or desperation Maulbane didn't know. What he did know is that they had to kill it, corruption or none.
Minutes later, it was falling. Like a tree that had been cut down it descended without trying to re-right itself, and when it slammed into the ground, into the cleverly designed trap, it burst into furious action. It tried as hard as it could to destroy Maulbane as he calmly walked up to it. It was stuck in place by its head, and the trees that held it there began to creak and snap as it pushed itself back desperately, roaring almost deafeningly. All while the eyes squirmed, like a maelstrom unto themselves, a thousand purple fireflies. . . Maulbane could barely hear anything as he walked up to the Ancient. He didn't hear Lethium scream at him to hurry up, he didn't hear Seleyn's bowstring strike backwards as she shot at it in vain, he didn't hear Goretusk cough in pain, having been knocked into another tree.
All he heard was his harpoon colliding with the Ancient's head. It sounding like ripping a tree in half, the first layer of wood buckling, the arcane corruption making sure the Corrupted Ancient's thick skin was weak and susceptible to damage. And so the harpoon plowed through its head. It took the Ancient a long time to die, and the purple, vaporousness in its eyes left. He just stood there after it died, trying to figure out why he felt so bad. He just saved it from corruption, after all... And then...
His balance shifted, his vision felt like a rainbow had burst into his head, and he could taste metal. It passed, slowly, and he was awake. Around him was his yurt, Mahhal, Filestrider and Goretusk, all asleep. Judging from the weak rays of sun poking through the trees it was the very early morning. Very early. He groaned, shaking his head, which felt like it had a mixture of sand and salt water in it. He'd been getting these dreams for a month now, on and off. It was starting to perplex and irritate him to the point where he would ask himself, in his head, if he'd eaten poison. He quickly discarded those ridiculous thoughts though...
However, he did have to see someone about these dreams. He was going to go to one of the elders as soon as he could, maybe a Druid.
...Right after he caught up on a bit of sleep.