Own little and especially not Warcraft. You can tell by how this is quite far from canon now.
Chasing Through Hell
The Long Road
Mathias had often boasted that he expected to win if he and Maurus ever were to truly fight and Maurus had never been completely sure that he was wrong. But that had always been dependent on Mathias' skill.
Now, feral from his wounds and inattentive as he fed, Mathias was no match for Maurus and it was simple to grab him and hold his arms against his upper body. Maurus even did it with just one arm. It was not pleasant though. His body hurt, Mathias was covered in gore and worse and the melancholy that was settling in after the battle was made worse by the sting Maurus felt at seeing his friend snarl and struggle like a rabid cat. He clenched his jaw against mental and physical aches and lifted a hand to Mathias' face and as he had expected, Mathias instantly snapped at it. Dressed in mail, his hand was safe from Mathias' bloody teeth, but the health stone he had gotten from Arianna became dust in Mathias' mouth.
As Maurus waited for the magic to take effect, he let his gaze wander over the battlefield around him and found that the sight was no easier to stomach than his worry for Mathias' mind. So instead, he turned his attention back to Mathias and shook him.
"Mathias?" he barked. "You all there?"
Seemingly provoked by the shake, Mathias renewed his struggle and Maurus felt a surge of worry.
"Mathias? Damn you, man, get a hold of yourself. Mathias!"
A few repeats of his name and several shakes did not seem to do much, so Maurus took a chance and loosened his hold.
As expected, Mathias immediately tried escaping, slipping low and turning, but Maurus was expecting it. He grabbed Mathias again, both of his massive hands clamping Mathias' arms to his sides, now turned so they were face to face.
"Mathias!" he barked again, worry coming out in a growl. "Look at me!"
Several long moments passed before Mathias' dead eyes lit with a spark of recognition and Maurus felt intense relief as his friend slackened in his grip.
"Earthmother be praised," Maurus murmured, slackening his grip, only to tighten it again when he felt Mathias wobble. Truth be told, Maurus felt plenty wobbly himself, so he carefully guided Mathias to sit down before slumping down on the ground.
"How are you feeling?" Maurus asked.
"Light," Mathias muttered, his expression a grimace of self-loathing. "I-"
His voice trailed off.
"You were cut up," Maurus said bluntly. "You-" He was about to say 'lived' but thought better of it, considering Mathias' sometimes prickly attitude to such phrasing. "You made it."
"We made it," Mathias said. His eyes widened and he sucked in a breath as his expression grew frantic. "Zarul, he-"
Maurus grinned darkly.
"He's there," he said, pointing at Mathias' stomach. "There." He pointed at Ven'Zarul's corpse before indicating the spot where he had dropped Ven'Zarul's head. "And over there."
Mathias looked stunned and Maurus found himself genuinely and fondly amused at his friend's complete bafflement.
"We did it," Mathias said, voice quiet and surprised.
Maurus put a hand on Mathias' shoulder. "Told you we would. My word is good."
A small, tired, but content smile appeared on Mathias' face. The expression, so different from his usual grins, looked strange on him, making him look years younger, but Maurus was glad to see it.
Mathias looked down at his hands, clasped in his lap. Then he blinked and looked out over the battlefield, eyes widening as he saw the expanse of blackened rock. Maurus followed his gaze and was once again struck by the strange mix of sorrow and triumph as he looked out over the valley. He couldn't even guess at the number of dead down in the valley, and if he had developed any eye for it, the forces pursuing the demons were token at best. Tempest Keep was still drifting down, like slowly sinking ships, but Maurus knew the distance made speed hard to judge and he doubted the Keeps would be much use after they came to ground. Which meant they had a long, perilous slog ahead of them.
But Ven'Zarul lay dead beside them and in the center of the blackened battlefield lay the massive, shattered bones of the Legion's general.
"Did they really destroy Kil'jaeden?" Mathias asked.
"Looks like it," Maurus said.
Mathias took a deep breath, clearly steadying himself. "Garm," he said, quietly. "Your spirit can rest. You are avenged, manifold."
Maurus nodded, mouthing his own prayer for the orc Mathias had cared for so deeply. He was somewhat surprised when Mathias said several other names, speaking in a language he had never heard him use before: Common.
Feeling suddenly like he was intruding, Maurus looked everywhere but at Mathias. All around him, healers and dabblers in first aid were struggling with the wounded. Drunnya and Shayla and all their colleagues were pockets of golden and green light on the purple slope. Arianna, Slova and the other warlocks were walking between the clusters of wounded, their hands glowing a more sickly green than the light that the shamans and druids created and Calen was finally rising from beside Wiven, pulling him up to a sitting position. Wiven looked woozy and black with blood and bruises, but there was color in his cheeks and his breathing was steady.
Maurus felt a surge of relief. In truth, he had probably talked with Mathias almost as much to distract himself as to ascertain Mathias' mental health, but with Wiven and many others already looking better, it was not so daunting to face the aftermath. Even if the air was still filled with the moans of pain and the stench of death.
Maurus still did not get up though, even though he thought he ought to. He didn't trust his legs to support him anymore and he doubted he would look much like a leader if he collapsed. Better to look like he had decided to watch than to show them weakness.
"All the people I've lost to the Legion's plots."
Mathias' words brought Maurus' gaze back to him and after a moment, he nodded soberly. There wasn't anything he could say to that. Compared to most people around him, probably most people in the Horde, Maurus had lived a charmed life. Sometimes, he almost felt bad for that.
"Thank you," Mathias said.
Maurus blinked. On some level, Mathias' words made sense, but on the whole, he felt like he owed more to his more experienced friend than his friend owed him.
"You're welcome," he said, after some consideration. Putting a bit of bravado into his voice, he added: "It was a fine hunt."
At that, Mathias pushed himself to his feet and Maurus watched him curiously. He didn't go far, only six steps, stooping to pick up Ven'Zarul's head before returning, seating himself and placing it in front of Maurus.
"Your trophy. Though I guess it will be a little while before you can boil it."
Maurus looked down at the slack expression of Ven'Zarul and for a moment felt nothing but satisfaction.
Then he looked up the slope, where he saw Sroku, jogging alongside Ba'ril and Devan. It seemed his rearguard had decided to stay by the artillery just in case but he would have to hear Ba'ril to be sure. Thinking of what the news might be made dread swirl in his belly but there was nothing for it. He turned and waited patiently for them to approach.
It wasn't as bad as he had feared. Seranna had thought ahead and moved as many as at all possible to the shelter of the arch they had crossed before they met the artillery and Braga and his men had scattered when the demons attacked. In total, the flying demons had only claimed three lives from those Maurus had left behind, far fewer than the force that had continued down the hill.
Even they had suffered fewer losses than Maurus had feared, though the death toll was still hard to bear. In total, the Torn Wing had lost fifty-two that day, around a sixth of their number and the survivors bore so many wounds that the healers had to focus on getting them all on their feet, rather than fixing them properly, because they soon got word that there would be only a night's rest before the army moved on. That meant that the Torn Wing went down into the valley in a slow, limping slog.
The break, and another healthstone from Arianna, had rejuvenated Maurus to the degree that he could shamble along. He even had enough energy that when he spotted a circle of hippogyphs and wyverns not long from their path, he went over to investigate with Mathias and Arianna.
He hadn't seen a hippogryph up close since Ashenvale and he had almost forgotten how fearsome they were. The blood in their claws and the scars on their bodies only added to that impression. Their riders, all of them night elves, were similarly bloodied. They were taller and more powerfully built than Arianna and her kin and in their bearing and armor, Maurus recognized confident strength and a willingness to use it. So when one with a badly healed, notched ear ordered him to stop, he complied, though he stepped a few paces to the side so he could look past them.
The flyers had arranged themselves in a tight ring around the broken body of Illidan Stormrage. The Betrayer lay in a shallow crater that spoke of the force with which he had crashed. The air smelled of burn flesh and hair, no wonder considering the state of him. Deep, crackly burns formed swirling marks on his body, fingers of black-scorched flesh radiating out from them. His wings were torn, lying like a tattered cape beneath him and his right arm was bent at an unnatural angle, a piece of sharp bone poking from his forearm. Despite all this, there was a strange piece to the demonic figure. Instead of being frozen in pain, his expression was relaxed in death, almost content, and his blindfold looked almost like a small funeral mask, shrouding his eyes.
For a while, they simply looked on the dead demon hunter. No-one spoke and the only sounds were the howling of the wind, the sounds of the Torn Wing moving nearby and the snorts and chirps of wyvern and hippogryph. The quiet surroundings were a stark contrast to what Maurus felt. His gut whirled with a dizzying mix of emotions; sorrow, pity, hate, disgust and admiration while his mind jumped from one thought to the next and the death and atrocities he had seen throughout Outland flashed through his mind. Twisted orcs, too big for their actual age, dead in their cots. Dark laboratories in Hellfire Citadel. Beaten, broken draenei. Far, far too many dead allies, thousands of them in the valley below.
But a calmer part of him realized that Illidan had saved the Horde and the Alliance in the Netherstorm. A situation of his own making, true, one that had taken thousands of deaths to create, but probably still, a successful, coldly executed gambit that had dealt the Legion the worst blow since Hyjal and left it without either of the leaders who had led it for millennia.
In the end, Illidan had done much like Hellscream, except that there had been much more cold logic behind the death Illidan had created. Hellscream's life on the other hand had been a savage blundering up until that final confrontation.
Did the cold logic make it better or worse?
Eventually, Maurus found his voice and said: "He died like Hellscream, destroying the demon who corrupted him."
His tone was calm and much more respectful than he felt. He didn't feel the Betrayer deserved the peace he showed and it was all he could do not to spit at him, no matter what his reason told him.
"A far better death than most who fall," Arianna agreed. Maurus glanced at her and felt a bit better at seeing some of the same turmoil in her eyes, despite her composed voice. There was a bit of admiration in her voice when she added: "Felling Kil'jaeden. Incredible."
"I think the Dark Lady would approve," Mathias said, apparently having thought along lines similar to Maurus. His grin was absent though and as he fell silent, his lips peeled back to reveal clenched teeth. More quietly, apparently trying to be mindful of the night elves, he added: "Good that he's dead though. Otherwise, he'd have to die."
The night elves did hear, judging by their sudden stares, but they made no move toward Maurus and the others, so he ignored them.
He looked at Mathias and nodded slowly, feeling his swirling emotions calm. His friend was right, but it was an odd conclusion, so unlike how Maurus usually thought.
He turned away from the scene and began walking back to the Torn Wing.
"Strange," he said, after a few steps. "Can you be a hero and deserve execution?"
"Rarely is it so clear," Arianna said. She sounded thoughtful and only when he noticed where her gaze was, on the shattered Tempest Keep, did he realize what recent events might mean to her. What it might say about the supposed blood elf traitors and what their fates might be.
"Don't get your hopes up," Maurus said quietly, putting a hand on her shoulder. It was a slight struggle to keep anger from his voice when he added: "Good intentions matter little against blood."
He was surprised when she didn't shrug it off.
"I know," she said, voice grave. "I'm not hoping. But I will know the full story."
Maurus nodded, as satisfied as he could be with things as they were. Mathias was right and had any traitor blood elves survived, they probably wouldn't be welcomed into the Horde.
Then again, the Warsong had been forgiven. Time would tell.
Despite their terrible losses, the armies of the Alliance and Horde got moving the very next morning, as planned. Tempest Keep was destroyed, broken by the energy it had channeled and the subsequent crash, so the armies turned back, to go back across the rough islands of the Netherstorm. The knowledge that the Legion forces would only be in disarray for a while, as well as the worrying earthquakes, urged them to hurry and the collapse of several mountainsides during the first days of marching silenced any complaints about the hurried pace.
A few days into the march, rumors spread about Illidari blood elves who had surrendered themselves to the Horde. Fearing what they would have to tell, Maurus kept close to Arianna when she sought access to the captives. She was denied, but the captives' claims were quickly released to the rest of the army anyway.
Maurus was guiltily thankful when the question of what would happen to Kael'thas was rendered moot by his apparent death in the battle now called Storm's End. His guilt was eased slightly by the claims of Nethermancer Sepetrea, one of the captive blood elves. She insisted that Kael'thas had lured Kil'jaden to the battle by claiming the Keep would enormously empower Illidan rather than work as a weapon.
Once again, he couldn't convince himself that the end goal justified the sacrifice and so he could no more forgive Kael'thas than he could Illidan. But he was thankful for the relief the news brought to Arianna, even if she was still troubled by the knowledge that the vast majority of the illidari blood elves hadn't been in on the treachery and that most protesters had probably been killed to keep up appearances.
It was a strange, melancholy end to Arianna's quest to find her kin, yet it was still far better than the impression of utter betrayal they had gotten before. Her faith in the prince had not been entirely misplaced and Maurus was thankful for any outcome that made her happier.
As if they had needed more motivation, Sepetrea also urged them to leave the isles as quickly as possible, claiming they were unstable and she was proven right after two days of ever more frequent quakes. They had just reached Isle B'naar when the news spread that the entire eastern half of Isle Duro had collapsed into the storm.
With the ground literally crumbling beneath their feet, it was a testament to the discipline that the gathered army had developed that none of the faster divisions sped ahead, leaving the slower, main force alone.
Demons harassed them as they traversed Isle B'naar, though the attacks were clearly more attempts at slowing them than dealing them real damage. Maurus wasn't surprised. Their enemies were probably as eager to leave the Netherstorm as they were and thinking back to when the Horde had entered the Storm, he expected the Legion forces to regroup at at the border to Blade's Edge. After all, if the collapse continued, the Legion could destroy the Alliance and Horde forces just by preventing them from leaving.
He was surprised when they made it out of the Netherstorm with little trouble. A significant force crossed the chasm by zeppelin, attacking the bridges along with forces from Blade's Edge, but even that was not enough to explain how badly organized the forces at the bridges were. The zeppelins should at the very least have lost some of their number to the demons, but they all made it in one piece.
The inklings of an explanation quickly solidified though, with input from Arianna, Mathias, Drim and Drunnya. The fel orcs embodied some of the basest aspects of orc culture, combined with more rage and aggression than Horde orcs. The sudden reversal of allegiances and the loss of a number of strong leaders, and probably many of their best, who had ridden the netherdrakes, meant the fel orc armies had devolved into power struggles, leaving little room for organized activity.
The demons were most likely facing similar problems, even if they were better organized. Without their top leader, the eredar and nathrezim were probably as bad as the fel orcs when there was power up for grabs.
It was the same conclusion Croaker voiced when Arianna's associates convened a day later. Maurus was once again sitting beside Arianna, facing a circle of warlocks, mages and priests. Last time he had been vaguely uncomfortable, though he had done his best not to show it. This time he felt at ease, completely confident in his place beside Arianna, with Ven'Zarul's stripped skull in his lap. The cup of wine he had been given by Croaker also didn't hurt, more for the small token of acceptance than for the drink itself.
The tent was almost comfortable, pleasantly warm and still compared to the chill winds outside and filled with the smell of roasted warpstalker and a heavy, sweet scent of pipe smoke.
Then again, he might just feel at ease because the attention was on Arianna and Mathias rather than on him.
Neither of them showed any unease though. It occurred to him that the looks Arianna got seemed almost exasperated and suddenly, it reminded Maurus of the annoyance Grima had shown toward Tolu whenever he brought another stray back to the camp. The thought almost brought an amused smile to his lips, but he stopped it with a bit of effort as Arianna finished her briefing.
"I didn't think you would actually succeed," Speaker said. His boyish voice was unapologetic. "Well done."
Maurus almost snorted derisively, only restraining himself for Arianna's sake and because there had been a note of grudging respect in Speaker's voice.
Arianna, on the other hand, bowed her head modestly, though Maurus caught a glint in her eye which her bangs hid from Speaker.
"You still haven't explained why he is here though," Speaker said, nodding at Mathias.
Mathias smiled at him, a challenge rather than anything friendly and Speaker's eyes narrowed.
"I think I have," Arianna said bluntly. "But to elaborate, this was as much his hunt as ours. I would have done this earlier, but ending Ven'Zarul wasn't something I thought should be seen by everyone."
As Maurus looked at her, suddenly feeling coldly uneasy, she added wryly: "We warlocks aren't well-liked as it is."
Speaker nodded at that, while several of the red-robed orcs snorted.
"Some say the dreadlords are immortal, merely returning to the Twisting Nether when killed," Arianna said. Maurus could see several warlocks right themselves, obviously about to speak but Arianna held up a hand and they subsided. Then she pulled her other hand from her bag and raised the black crystal she had created when Ven'Zarul died. All eyes locked on the crystal and a sudden tension filled the room. "Ven'Zarul had no chance to escape though."
Her eyes burned with a dark intensity as she looked around, meeting gazes one by one. Speaker met her eyes easily, looking almost bored. The other warlocks' gazes seemed more interested, while the rest of the tent's occupants seemed vaguely uncomfortable. Croaker and the others Maurus had pegged as priests looked uncomfortable, but stubbornly determined. Mathias' expression was one of complete and utter focus, his pale eyes seeming to glow brighter than usual.
When Arianna finally met Maurus' eyes, he felt a slight hitch in his breath, finding her eyes eerily similar to the ones he had seen in some of his nightmares.
"Ven'Zarul is never returning," she said with hard finality, lowering her hand and offering the soulstone to Ash, who had been lying beside her, uncharacteristically quiet. A hush fell over the tent as his bony jaws opened wide and black dust flowed off the stone as if a wind was eroding it. After a moment, the stone cracked and then fell apart, the shards dissolving and flowing into the demon's mouth like black smoke.
Maurus felt a cold shiver despite the satisfaction he felt when Ash closed his jaws and began to rumble contentedly. If anyone deserved that fate, it was Ven'Zarul, who had probably subjected others to the same, but it was still just plain evil. The fact that Arianna's profession allowed her to exert such power over the spirits of others was horrifying and it was a stark reminder that there was a side to her he would probably never quite be at peace with. Yet he also couldn't deny that her strength was one of the things that drew him to her, both her magical might and her strength of character. It was an impressive feat to wield such horrible power and still manage to be mostly good and honorable.
For those reasons, he was glad he kept his feelings from his face and managed to merely nod soberly at Arianna.
"Now we just need to do that to all of the nathrezim," Speaker said dryly."However many of them there are."
"Least we 'ave worwhy work t'do," Carver said, swallowing most of the syllables of 'worthwhile'.
"That brings the next point," Arianna said. "I'm done. Is there a new assignment?"
Maurus felt a sudden chill when he realized what she was saying. He wasn't sure, but she might just accept any assignment, even if it required infiltration and separation from him. That was not something he had considered and he was woefully unprepared for the idea.
Croaker waved a lazy hand. "This isn't really the time to break off on your own. We're leaving assassination to the Shadows for now, though it is good to see your enthusiasm." She glanced at Maurus. "Stick with the Torn Wing for now. It's a good place to be."
Instant relief flooded Maurus, but he wasn't so preoccupied that he missed the slight relaxation in Arianna's shoulders and that made a spark of warmth appear in his chest.
"Thank you," Arianna said, nodding respectfully.
"Keep an eye out," Speaker said. He glanced at Mathias and Maurus and added: "You too. The war is too precarious for us to allow traitors to disrupt things."
Maurus held back a snort. That went without saying. Sensing the dismissal, he made a point of glancing at Arianna but when she made no reaction to Speaker's tone, he remained seated. Mathias didn't move either.
Speaker's mouth thinned to a line and his eyes flicked left and right before his expression turned blank.
Maurus restrained a smirk, deciding that there was no need to rub it in. The narrowed eyes of Speaker told him that he either had been less successful at concealing his feelings or, more likely, that Mathias hadn't bothered to contain his.
No-one commented on the little silent display and the meeting continued and as it stretched out over a long couple of hours, Maurus almost regretted staying. With nothing to add and little context for what he heard, boredom set in quickly and he was relieved when Arianna finally said her goodbyes and lead them out of the tent.
They had not gotten far away from the tent when Mathias stopped and Maurus and Arianna turned to consider him curiously.
They found him for once standing fully upright, reminding Maurus of the footmen he had seen on the Path of Glory. He put a hand to his chest with a sharp gesture and bowed at the waist.
Maurus blinked and when he glanced at Arianna, her eyebrows were raised high.
"Thank you," Mathias said, straightening. His expression and his voice were as solemn as Maurus had ever seen him as he went on: "I have doubted you both many times. That is my shame. You have given me a more complete vengeance than I could ever have hoped."
Maurus actually felt a tiny lump form in his throat while his chest swelled with accomplishment.
"I gave my word, my friend," Maurus said. He matched Mathias' tone, ignoring the professed doubt about his honor and ability and the urge to speak a clear 'I told you so'.
Arianna simply looked taken aback for a moment before she nodded.
"I am glad I could help, Mathias," Arianna said. She huffed out a breath and added in a wry tone: "I never thought I would speak those words to an undead."
"The world grows stranger by the year," Mathias said, the solemness fading from his features and his grin returning. Something remained different however, and it took Maurus a few moments to figure out what. It was something that had begun during the march back across the Netherstorm, but only now when it had become much stronger did he really notice it. The intensity in Mathias' eyes had simply changed, becoming something brighter and his grin was just a tad softer than it usually was.
That realization, as well as the minor satisfaction of their tacit acceptance into Arianna's group, made him smile and his steps felt another degree lighter as they walked back to camp.
Without the search for Ven'Zarul and Arianna's kin to focus on, the war blurred together for Maurus as they fought their way back through Draenor. The forces in Blade's Edge hadn't been idle, managing to survive while also making overtures at the ogres and doing some risky goading of the Gronn. The end result was that the disorganized Legion forces were expelled from the mountains and their portals closed.
The reinforcements from Hellfire had met a wall in Zangarmarsh, but Maurus later learned that a wave of assassinations among the Legion forces had shaken their stranglehold on the marsh and the forces returning from Nagrand and Blade's Edge dealt the final blow to that.
It was a long, grueling fight before they got that victory though and even after that, it took another year before they pushed the demons back to the crumbling edges of Outland. By that time, the isles of the Netherstorm were gone, along with a chunk of Blade's Edge and many smaller areas along the borders of Draenor. Illidan's gambit, as well as the opened portals, had badly strained the broken world and by the time the Torn Wing turned toward the Portal, they were not just joined by Horde and Alliance but also by much of Outland's population, among them Mag'har, Broken Draenei, Ogres and smaller groups of stranger creatures.
The mass exodus was chaotic, the fate of the immigrants uncertain, but Maurus found himself not caring much, the prospect of going home overshadowing his worries.
Finally, after nearly two years, he climbed the steps to the Portal with Arianna and the others and stepped into the swirling vortex of stars and fel.
Scattered impressions pummeled Maurus' mind as he floated through the void, seeing strange blobs of color from many different angles. Time stretched out till he was sure he would disintegrate completely and then everything swirled into coherence again. His insides roiled as his hooves hit stone and he staggered forward a few steps. The nausea was not half as bad as it had been going the other way though and the dizziness in his head vanished almost completely when he drew in his first lungful of air. The air was dusty and hot, but there was barely a trace of fel on it compared to Hellfire, and it was like surfacing from a deep dive, the relief of drawing breath into starved lungs. At the same time, his mind cleared, like he had stepped out from a stuffy room and gotten shocked awake by the chilly air.
He took another greedy breath, expelling it in a sigh as he moved toward the slope leading down from the Portal.
Behind him, his soldiers materialized. Staggering footsteps and unhappy gurgles told him that not all of them were dealing with the transition as well as he was and with a wide grin, he shouted at them: "Keep going. Don't block the path, you can puke as you walk."
"You're suddenly lively," Arianna said. She was walking beside him, having stepped through the Portal with him, along with Mathias, Wiven and Widget.
"I didn't know-," he began amiably, trailing off when the retching from behind became a wet, splattering sound and a furious, disgusted curse.
Before Maurus could turn around to stop what was probably a fight in the making, the voice of Calen broke in: "Keep moving."
Maurus wasn't sure if Calen had done something or if it was just his tone, but when he looked back, the puke-stained orc was hurrying forward, edging away from the other orc, who was wiping his mouth.
Turning back around as they began descending the slope, he said: "I never thought I could miss air this foul. It's good to be home."
"I'm going to miss it," Wiven said. He was looking wistfully at the small flames playing above his fingertips.
Widget punched him lightly in the hip. "You'll deal."
"Not if these two are as infuriating as they were last time," he said, though his tone was light.
"Can't do that now," Maurus said easily. "I'm in charge. I have to act with dignity."
Mathias snorted.
"He, however, has nothing to stop him," Maurus added.
"It is going to be a long walk home, isn't it?" Wiven sighed, though his dreary resignation sounded feigned.
"Unless you want to fly," Widget, gesturing toward the zeppelins floating above the crater.
"Bad idea," Mathias said. "With his busy hands, he'll blow them up."
Wiven extinguished the flame and gave Mathias a look.
"Can't go," Maurus added as they began climbing out of the crater. Above, wind riders appeared, alighting on the rim of the zeppelin. "We need our waterboys."
"I'm older than the three of you combined," he said huffed. He sighed and added: "It is going to be a long way home.
He was right. Not three hours after they climbed out of the crater, word made its way through the camp they had visited what seemed like a lifetime ago: The Scourge was on the move.
Well, almost there now. This was an infodumpy chapter, but I wanted to tie up a few loose ends and give a bit of a broader picture.
There will be an epilogue after this and that is almost done as well and then this is done.
I hope you'll tell me what you think. I know this chapter is one of the weaker ones, but I will still appreciate the feedback.
Cheers.
