Siege of Darkness
Chapter 3: The Praetorian Arrive
By: Duneczan
KALIMDOR, THE NEXT DAY
Something heavy laid across Keirn's chest. Opening his eyes slightly, the Daedra saw two red glowing orbs staring back at him. The light from the eyes illuminated golden scales and a wyrmic face.
"Greetings, Lord Halcyon."
"Lightning...why are you laying on my chest?"
"To ask you a question. How long has it been since you have released Thunder from his long sleep?"
"Since he decided to take on a frost wyrm all by himself. He was injured in the fall."
"He received no injuries from his enemy?"
"Not many. Frost wyrms are the pets of the undead. They are slow and powerful, but Thunder is small and fast. He defeated the wyrm rather easily, but he was caught underneath the creature as its skeleton fell to the ground. That is what caused his injuries. You may see if he is healed or not Lightning. Just let me rest. I have this feeling that either Briog or Gorbash, or both, are going to be bringing bad news." Lightning hopped off the Daedra's chest and stalked over to the small pouch lying near Keirn's sword. Fitting a claw into the bag, Lightning pulled forth a silver coin, a coin with the image of a dragon on it. He took the coin into another part of the barrow den so as to not awaken Keirn. The kodragon placed the coin on the floor and tapped it with his golden claw. The coin glowed brightly for an instant, and the shape of a black dragon, smaller than Lightning and no longer than a mans arm, emerged.
"Greetings Lightning," the black dragon said.
"Have you slept well my friend? Are you rested and recovered?"
"I think so..." The creature known as Thunder, a fire lizard, a race of dragons so small they are no larger than dragon hatchlings, stretched himself. There was a sudden cracking noise, and a grimace crossed his draconic features. "Ow..."
"Perhaps you should not have done that."
"It's only a flesh wound Lightning. I've had worse injuries."
"Oh yes, the time when you fell into that lava pit was most fun. And then there was the shadow wight. And then there was the acid wyrm. For someone who has lived for millennia, you act more like a newborn than an elder."
"Quiet you..." Thunder hissed. "You have no respect for your elders." The fire lizard shook his head. "So tell me, what's been going on lately?"
"I haven't a clue," the younger dragon said. "I was just released from hibernation late last night. I do know, however, that Keirn and Samira fought off a pair of Naga, a small army of orcs, and found a large chest containing the weapons of the Ancient Kingdoms. Kerdal was missing, and that worries the others."
"As it should. Kerdal is not a weapon to be trifled with. The First are always the ones that should be worried about. Anarsul, Kerdal, and Synlas, are among the most powerful artifacts ever created. Fortunately two of those three are in capable hands."
"Keirn believes, rightly I think, that Kerdal is now in the hands of some orc warrior serving the Legion."
"That I do not doubt," Thunder sat and curled his tail around his body, with Lightning doing the same moments later. "Anything else I should know?"
"Briog and Gorbash return with reports. They should be here sometime this morning."
"Indeed? Things must be dire if they abandon their posts."
"Or not. They were told to report to Keirn if anything arose that they should know about." The smaller dragonoid nodded his scaled head.
"I know, I much prefer making things more dire than they usually are."
"Then you truly are Keirns familiar." Thunders lip curled up in a draconic smile.
"Why thank you Lightning, that's the nicest thing you've said to me since....well, ever. You reallydo like me, don't you?" Lightning growled at his elder, who seemed to delight in tormenting him. The door to the barrow den in which they were staying opened, and a tall figure entered. His flowing cape looking much like the wings on a bird.
"Ah, Master Stormrage, greetings," Lightning said, inclining his head to the Arch-Druid.
"Master Lightning," Malfurion bowed his head to the smaller creature. His eye wandered over to Thunder, who was taking a long look at the night elf. "And who might you be?"
"You first." Lightning sent his elder a look.
"Thunder, this is Malfurion Stormrage, Arch-Druid of the night elves, and also one of their eldest leaders."
"I see. Master Malfurion, I am called Thunder."
"Well then Thunder, Lightning, where can I find Keirn?"
"Down the hall and to the left. Arlan is in the other room. Has there been a sigthing?"
"Yes. A black dragon, your Briog I assume, has been spotted over Ashenvale. He should arrive shortly," Malfurion said. He turned from the dragons with a nod of his head and headed deeper into the den.
"Well, this should be interesting," Thunder said.
Arlan and Keirn stepped out of the den, with the two dragonoids in tow. Arlan was still strapping on his armor, something that Keirn told him would be useless at the moment. For the time the Burning Legion was pushed back, realing from the failure of Achimonde, as well as their counterattack. They would not be returning any time soon. The two looked over and saw Samira emerge from one of the halls the female Sentinels use as their barracks'. She shook hands with the Sentinel commander named Shandris and said something to her. She turned and walked towards the other two Wardens.
"Making friends are we?" Arlan asked with a grin.
"The Sentinels are well trained and disciplined. We could use people like them."
"Of course. Then again, we have enough dourness in our party with you, Keirn, and those damnedable Concordian Paladins with the Praetorian."
"And I suppose we should all be fools such as you Arlan?" Keirn cleared his throat loudly.
"Chidlren, I don't know why you are acting this way, perhaps it is the animosity that the Sentinels feel towards the Druids for being asleep for ages seeping into your veins, but I will not tolerate any of it, you understand? We have enough things to worry about without us being at each others throats." He pointed towards the east. "Our friend arrives." The two other Wardens looked into the horizon.
There, speeding across the landscape, was a large black shape. There were smaller shapes flying around him, winged shapes that also looked like dragons. As they approached, the smaller shapes took on more definitive forms.
"It would seem that our friend Briog has a following," quipped Thunder, who had moved from the ground to Keirn's shoulder. Keirn couldn't disagree. Swarming around Briog were small black dragon whelps, the young spawn of the mighty Dragonlord Deathwing. There were also two larger chimeras, which seemed agitated by the presence of the whelps. The booming voice of Briog could now be heard on the wind.
"I said get away from me you foul little spawn of a devil! I am not your sire Deathwing you morons, away! Hey, you two, if you can get it through your twin heads long enough to listen to me, maybe you can help me get these bastards out of my sight!" One of the chimeras, not accustomed to being ordered around in such a tone, immediately went after one of the whelps. One of its jaws opened and a burst of lightning stretched forth. Briog sent one of his wings down to smack the chimera. "I said get them away from me, not kill them!" The same chimera gave Briog a look, but followed his orders. He sent out more lightning, but this time he shot it across the whelps form and not at it. The other chimera did the same, and the whelps began to scatter. Archers began mounting hippogryphs to fly after them. "No you stupid women, I don't want you to kill them either!" Briog sent out a roar that made the hippogryphs fly away before the archers could settle themselves. The women fell to the ground, giving the huge dragon a sour look. Briog landed in the clearing that had been hastily set up for him, though it seemed to be too small for him. He looked uncomfortable and irritated. So did Tyrande. She stormed up to the dragon, looking very much like a mouse compared to him.
"How dare you order my Sentinels around? They are merely doing their jobs in protecting us from Deathwing."
"Deathwing is in no shape to attack anyone little woman," Briog said with a growl. His black eyes flared crimson when he stared at her. "Nor are his children. In time, perhaps they will be trouble, but not now. Besides there are others that can defend against Deathwings plans more easily than you or your kind. Do not forget that the other Aspects are wary of him now that their powers have been returned to them." He brought his head down to her level, causing her to step back a few paces. "How would you feel if someone decided to kill your children just because of who or what you are?" His growl was deep and menacing. "Or does your vaunted belief system say that murdering innocent children, no matter the kin, is fine?"
"BRIOG!" The dragons head snapped up. He saw Keirn, Arlan, and Samira striding towards him. Keirn did not seem too pleased. "Just what do you think you are doing?"
"Teaching the woman that just because they wear the form and color of an old enemy does not make them that old enemy, that is all." He peered back down to Tyrande. "I hope I have made my point." Tyrande nodded, all the while stepping back. She came to a stop when her back touched Malfurions chest. He put his hands on her shoulders and spoke in a soft tone.
"The dragon is right my dear, although he could have chosen a more appropriate means of making his point."
"Briog has a problem with choosing words appropriately," Keirn said with his own growl. Briog didn't seem to affected by the conversation. Keirn looked up at the dragon. "Briog, polymorph into a more efficient size. Gorbash should be arriving soon also, and this location is not big enough for the two of you." Briog nodded.
"Very well." He muttered something in the language of dragons. His form began to shift. He grew smaller, his features almost turning liquid in the process. As he shrunk down to twenty feet in length, he reeled back on his hind legs. His wings folded in upon themselves, and began to melt into his back. His foreclaws became more human, as did his hind legs. His tail vanished and his head and neck took on more human proportions. As his transformation ended, Briog looked very much like a human, save for the unnatural thinness of his face. This form wore black armor and a longsword attached to his waist. "Is this better?"
"Indeed," Keirn said.
"Alright then. Now, as to my report-"
"Hold a moment Briog. The news you bring to us involves others that are not here just yet." Keirn turned to Furion. "Did you send runners to both Lady Proudmoore and Warchief Thrall?" The night elf druid nodded.
"I sent one of my most trusted messengers to get them." As the druid spoke, a hush came over the land. The gathered leaders and fighters could feel the magical taint in the air. "I believe that is them now." It was. As the wind whirled around them, the faint images of a group of people could be seen appearing from the ether. Their forms solidified as the wind died down. There were eight figures. Three Humans, three Orcs, a Dwarf, and a Tauren. Jaina had brought along three of her generals: a paladin, an archmage, and a mountain king. Thrall had done the same. With him was Cairn Bloodhoof, leader of the Tauren people, as well as Drek'Thar, an aging shaman, and a blademaster. Jaina smiled at the companions.
"I believed it to be quicker to just teleport us all here," she said. Thrall looked around, seeming a little impatient.
"We were told to expect a dragon. I do not see one here," he said. Briog gave Keirn a sidelong glance.
"Anxious to see dragons, is he?" Briog turned his human self to Thrall. "I'm the dragon you were told would be here Orc."
"You do not look like a dragon."
"And you do not look like a fool. You know that dragons are crafty, powerful creatures with control of magicks far beyond anything you could imagine. Just know that I am the dragon and that I am here." Arlan cleared his throat.
"Briog, you're doing it again. Calm down or I'll be forced to calm you myself," the half-elf said. A temporary failing of Briog's calm exterior showed that he knew Arlan could easily do just that.
"Fine. You'll have to forgive my irritation, but your the second woman I've had to lecture in the past week," Briog said to Tyrande. From Keirn's shoulder, Thunder leaned forward and peered closely at the dragon in disguise.
"And it seems that she didn't take kindly to said lecture. You seem to be healing rather nicely." Briog's face turned red and he glared at his diminutive elder. Lightning hovered in the air between them and nodded his agreement.
"Indeed. I can barely see the scar."
"Would you two..."
"Is there something you'd like to tell us Briog?" Keirn asked.
"Well...it does pertain to my report, so I guess I can tell you what happened. I was out over Dalaran looking into rumors I'd heard of a band of Orcs in the area that were trying to find a way to destroy the demons that controlled the land. On my journey I noticed a red dragon, no more than a juvenile, flying nearby. I tried to converse with it, but the little bugger flew off before I could speak to him. So I continued on, only to find the rumors were false ones. I began making the journey back to my hiding place when it happened."
"Exactly what did happen?"
"Two red dragons as big as I am popped out of nowhere and began attacking me without provocation. I was just barely able to form a shield around myself before they attacked. The smaller of the two was doing little to damage my shield, but the big one...she was ferocious." At the mention of 'she', a few of the more experienced or knowledgeable leaders reacted in different ways. Tyrande and Furion looked at each other with shocked expressions. Arlan hid his mouth with his hands, the hint of a smile creeping out over his palm. He was also convulsing with stifled laughter. Samira showed only exasperation in her eyes. Both Jaina and Thrall looked taken aback by the comment. Keirn made no motion. Only his eye twitched.
"You attacked Alexstrasza?" Tyrande asked.
"I did nothing of the sort!" Briog boomed so loudly that birds flew from the trees. "She attacked me, her and that damndible mate of hers, Korialstrasz. I swear, kids these days don't respect their elders!"
"Briog, the Dragonqueen is ten thousand years older than you, she's not a kid," Keirn said. "And she doesn't attack unless provoked."
"But I did nothing! However, after awhile it became clear to her that I wasn't her enemy. She and her mate stopped. She said that I wasn't Deathwing, as she thought I had been, and demanded to know who I was."
"She thought you were Deathwing?"
"Yes. Do I look like I've got adamantium attached to my scales when I'm in dragon form? Does Deathwing have red and grey scales on his belly? No! She merely thought I was someone else and attacked me anyway. I've had enough trouble living on our own world, and now I have to put up with this?"
"Perhaps you should put the past transgressions behind you and get to what you came here to tell us," Samira said in a weary voice.
"I'm getting to it Starbender. So, after Alexstrasza decided to stop attacking me, and I told her who I was, she and her mate apologized. We landed in an isolated field far away from any of the forces of Azeroth and talked. The news, I am sad to say, is not good. The Alliance of Lordaeron, as it once was, no longer exists on Azeroth. It only exists here on Kalimdor." Jaina placed her hands over her mouth in shock and horror. The paladin and the dwarf both wore grim expressions, as did the archmage. None of them had expected news such as this.
"What...what happened?" Jaina asked in a small voice.
"When King Tyranus was killed by Arthas, you all knew what would happen. With both Dalaran and Quel'Thalas destroyed, and the king of Lordaeron dead, there were too few remaining that still believed in the Alliance. Gilneas, Stromgarde, Kul Tiras, all of the remaining members of the Alliance sealed their borders and put up heavy defenses. What remains of Lordaerons forces on the continent has fallen back on the elder ways of bigotry. A man by the name of Garithos, a former paladin, now controls these remnants. He still allies himself with the dwarves of Khaz Modan and the Aerie, and the Elves, but only out of necessity. He, and his men, dislike both races to the point where he puts them in positions where they can barely even protect themselves, let alone the lands they still strive to control. For their part the dwarves are proving stubborn, yet still true to the Alliance. While they dislike Garithos as well, it is not because of what he is, but because of who he is, yet they still seek to protect not only their homes, but the homes of all the survivors as well. As for the Elves...there's is a sad story."
"How so?" Asked the archmage, himself an elf.
"With the destruction of the Sunwell, they seem to believe they have lost all contact with their power. Instead of drawing upon the water elemental magicks that Dalaran put forth, they have chosen to master the fire magicks instead. Changing their name to the Blood Elves, they have sworn a blood oath that they will not rest until every single demon and undead has been eliminated. They also strive for more and more powerful magicks, and their leader, Prince Kael'Thas, seems hell bent on gaining more and more power, at whatever the cost?" At the mention of Kael's name, Jaina paled. There was a flicker of recognition in her eyes, but she hid it quickly. However it was not she who spoke first, it was Tyrande.
"The fools have once again chosen to follow dark path which nearly led to our destruction ten thousand years ago! It was they, the High Born, who first brought the Legion to this world, and it was because of their actions that we banished them. They were no longer of the Kaldorei. The Well of Eternity had so corrupted them that they would do anything for that power! This Sunwell must have contained some of the waters of the Well, and once again it is because of them that the Legion returned. They and their demonic magicks-"
"The fire arcana are not the domain of demons, Lady Tyrande," Briog corrected. "The demons themselves are the source of no such power, as they too draw their power from somewhere else. The fire arcana is as much a part of nature as their dark powers are. You are correct, however, that the Well of Eternity corrupted them. It corrupted many things during its existence, including Deathwing. Yet you must know that the Well of Eternity was not meant to corrupt, it was meant to give life. The Titans wished this, but Sargeras refused to bow down to his former comrades' will. He used the Well to focus his own powers, allowing them to seep into this world. It all comes down to that one simple act of evil."
"I see..." Tyrande said, taking in his words.
"Is there any hope for our homelands?" Asked the paladin.
"Perhaps. The kingdoms that cut themselves off from each other are faring well, though that is only because the Legion and the Scourge are still bickering over which lands each other controls or doesn't control. The best news of all comes from Khaz Modan, where a number of older heroes have once again joined forces to combat evil. And they have the direct aid of the Red Dragonflight."
"Who warrants such help?"
"A mage by the name of Rhonin, an elven ranger named Vareesa Windrunner, her niece Lysia, and a gryphon rider by the name of Falstad."
"Rhonin?!" The archmage bellowed. "He is the hope of our future?"
"Kelen, be silent!" Jaina admonished him. "You know the history of Rhonin as well as I do. He, along with this Vareesa and the gryphon rider were almost single-handedly responsible for the freeing of Alexstrasza from the hands of the Dragonmaw Orc clan. It is no wonder she now has her brood aiding him."
"I have heard of the Dragonmaw's defeat," Thrall said. "It was told many times to me during my time at Durnholde. They held onto the mountain fortress of Grim Batol for months after the Second War, all by using the red drakes forcibly birthed from the Dragonqueen. In hearing these tales, I was sickened by their actions."
"It was the rage, young warchief, the draw of power that caused the Dragonmaw to do what it did," said the blademaster that had accompanied Thrall.
"Actually they were free of the rage, the will of the demons, by that time. No, the Dragonmaw continued their attacks only because they wished to survive, as well as destroy the Alliance," Arlan said. "We were told much of your worlds history before we came here, if you remember. We know many of the internecine wars, the under-the-table politics, everything that went on here. Trust me, the Dragonmaw liked what it was doing."
"And that is exactly what Alexstrasza told me during our conversation," Briog added. Keirn had been silent through most of this, taking in all the information, calculating all the options open to him and his fellow Wardens. He cleared his throat, bringing the groups attention to him.
"The news you bring is not good Briog," he said, "yet it is not entirely bad. You have confirmed a suspicion of mine: the Burning Legion and the Undead Scourge are not on the same team, for the most part. I believe the links between Kil'jaeden and Ner'zhul have begun to weaken. That is good news for us, as it is the unified front of demons and undead that opposes us the most. With it shattered, we can at least drive the wedge in deeper."
"And you would do this how?" Tyrande asked. "With just the three of you, and four dragons?"
"Three of us, four dragons, and two thousand of the be best warriors our world has to offer, my lady," Samira said.
"And any forces that you would not mind loaning to us," Arlan added.
"Ah, so there is a price for your aid," Thrall said.
"Yet it is not a steep price, Chieftan Thrall," Jaina replied.
"No, it is not," agreed the bovine Cairne.
"And we do not ask for any aid at all," Arlan said. "While your warriors would be a welcome gift, we would never ask you to reduce your defenses just to repay a debt. And even if we did ask, it would only be for a token force, a small group from each of you."
"So you say..." Tyrande said. Furion laid a hand on her shoulder, and it seemed to have a calming affect on her.
"I believe we can take them at their word, my love. They seem trustworthy, and their hearts appear true."
"Is that an insight given to you by the Wilds?"
"Yes, and by my heart." Briog made a look like he was going to vomit as he heard the two speak. Before anyone could notice his rude gesture, the archer named Shandris came over to them at a trot.
"Another dragon approaches, a green one," she said and turned to return to her post.
"Oh joy, Gorbash is here," Thunder spoke in a droll tone, "my day is now complete."
For the second time that day, a massive wyrmic shape flew over the sacred forests of Ashenvale forest. And also for the second time that day, the massive wyrm approaching was surrounded by followers.
"We all seem to have some sort of draw..."Briog said as he watched his brothers approach. Gorbash's voice, while softer than Briog's, could be heard on the wind as he called out to his wingmates.
"Tell me something friend, do I truly look like one of Ysera's spawn? Seriously? No? Then get away from me!" He was yelling at a dozen small creatures that resembled dragons. About one quarter the size of a chimaera, these wyrms had not been seen outside of the Emerald Dream for eons. "Why? Why do you torment me so? Shoo, scatter, avaunt ye from my sight, oh ye troublesome creatures!" Gorbash's long, whip-like tail came forward and smacked one of the creatures in the head. It vanished from sight, only to reappear seconds later, almost as if it had shifted from this plane to the next. Annoyed, the big green dragon sent a blast of acid towards all the small wyrms he could see. This time all twelve of them vanished, and did not return. Gorbash circled the clearing once, then began his descent. As he did so, his form began to bend and twist, a red glow formed about his body as he neared the ground. He became smaller and smaller, even as he came closer to them. Once he landed, the glow faded and he could be seen again. Gone was the massive draconic form, replaced by that of a sharp faced Elf wearing flowing green robes. He gave a ponderous bow, along with a sweep of his arm. "My friends, I have arrived!" He looked up. "What, no applause?"
"Those were faerie dragons, guardians of the Emerald Dream!" Furion said in astonishment.
"And annoying as hell," Gorbash added. "Did you know, they thought me one of Ysera's ilk? They dared tell me that I didn't have permission to be outside the Dream. Who do they think they are?"
"Ysera's personal guard," Furion said.
"Oh..."
"Such a wonderful entrance brother," Briog said. He clapped his brother on the shoulder, causing the dragon-mage to wince slightly. "Almost as interesting as mine."
"Do I dare ask?" Gorbash asked, shoving Briog's hand off his shoulder with a mock look of haughtinss on his face.
"No. At least, not if you value your life that is."
"Oh, not so glorious huh?"
"..."
"Oh, now worries my brother. I already know the story. You see, those little wyrmlings may have been annoying, but they were very talkative, very gossipy. Like little old women you know? According to them, apparently a certain big, black dragon attacked a certain big, red dragonqueen."
"FOR THE LAST TIME, I DID NOT ATTACK ALEXSTRASZA!"
"Really? Oh good, because I thought you were being the enormous bighead you usually are," Gorbash said with a toothy grin. He turned to face Kerin, but saw Tyrande first. His face lit up, and he strode towards her. "My Elven Lady! How wonderful to see you!" He took her hand and kissed it. "You are a vision! Now, judging by the look of horror on your face, you-" There was a loud crack of thunder and a flash of lightning. Gorbash turned his head slightly. Briog was hiding his face in his hands, and everyone else, including the ever stoic Samira and Furion, were laughing. Keirn, on the other hand, has his arms crossed, his left hand fingers idly tapping his right arm. His face was placid, but in his eyes raged a storm of annoyance (though the dragon thought he did see a hint of amusement in the Daedra's eyes). Gorbash gulped and dropped the shocked and bewildered Tyrande's hands. "Oh...hi Keirn, how are you? Lovely day we're having, nice and chill with a hint of morning dew."
"Gorbash, you and Briog certainly are brothers. Briog here shows up and insults Tyrande, while you show up and make moves on her. You both take extraordinary amounts of time report the status of your various missions, and all while the fate of this world and ours hangs in the balance. Now I can accept humor at times of crisis, in fact I often encourage, but at this moment I would much prefer to hear about the status of our forces stuck in Northrend and not how much you like the way the priestess looks." The Kaldorei priestesses dark blue cheeks burned slightly red, but the dragon-mage seemed nonplussed.
"Ruin my fun..." he muttered. "I have good news and bad news to report. The good news is, the goblins completed our flotilla of ships, and the army should be arriving within the week. The bad news is, the Praetorian grew agitated and highjacked a number of the goblins' airships and will be arriving within the next few hours. I tried to discourage them but...well, you know how paladins can be," he said. He didn't notice that the Knight of the Silver Hand that accompanied Jaina scowled at him. There was a collective sigh of exasperation at Gorbash's words as Keirn, Samira, Arlan, and the three other dragons let out their breaths at once. This drew some attention from the sorceress Jaina, who seemed to view the Wardens with more trust than the other leaders.
"This Praetorian...you do not like them?"
"No," Samira said bluntly.
"Not in this lifetime," both Thunder and Lightning said at the same time.
"Some of them are alright," Kerin said.
"True, but it is the paladins of Concordia that are the...truly horrible ones," Arlan added. He looked at the paladin near Jaina. "No offense." The paladins scowl deepened, but a restraining hand from Jaina prevented him from speaking his mind.
"Why does this Praetorian irk you?"
"Well..."
"I hate to say this, but perhaps we should head elsewhere to discuss this?" Thrall suggested. "Here we are, the leaders of the four groups that managed to drive back the Burning Legion, standing out here in the open where any demon with an ounce of intelligence can attack us and take us by surprise."
"A sound idea. While the Legion may have been pushed back, we know that they have access to certain creatures that can easily take us out in one focused attack." Keirn looked around the Night Elves' compound. Neither the barrow dens or the halls of the druids and Sentinels were suitable, as both were fairly weak structures. There was one structure though that caught his attention, if it could be called a structure at all. The Kaldorei used few buildings in their warcamps, focusing mainly on the mobility of their ancient allies, the elderly Treants of the Ashenvale forests. The Tree of Eternity, eldest and most powerful of all the Treant race, stood tall and proud among its fellows. Wisps, spirits of the worlds ancient ancestors spiraled around the elder tree. "Tell me Priestess, would your Tree of Eternity be willing to support us? While on our world Treants are a foul, corrupt breed of tree creatures, your Treants seem to have more in common with the Ents. I can think of no more peaceful place than the eaves of a living tree, and discussin the Praetorian is an issue that will require us to be at peace."
"And the Praetorian can also be a tiring experience," Arlan put in.
"I...I do not know. For ages past the Treants have allowed us to station ourselves within their branches, but it has been millennia since the elder trees have given us that honor."
"Then we need only ask, don't we?" Keirn said. He headed off towards the massive Tree of Eternity at a quick pace. Dozens of feet tall, the Tree of Eternity towered over all other Treants, including the lesser elders, the Trees of Life and the Ages. Keirn bowed deeply before the tree. His words were well chosen and soft, unheard even by those standing by him. The tree bobbed its head, lowering some of its branches to the forest floor to allow them to climb into its bow. Keirn again bowed. He stretched out his hands to the others, ushering them before him. Furion, holding his Tyrande's hand in his own, led the way. Arlan held out his hand to Jaina, who took it quickly and followed him up. The others followed suit, Keirn being the last to walk up. They had entered a whole different world. Keirn was reminded of the legends about the ancient Calad'hrim homes in the massive Lekjara trees of his home at the sight. Luminescent bulbs of an unknown nature shrouded the Tree of Eternity's branches in hues of blue and green. Light from the outside broke through the eaves, adding to the eerie glow. Fireflies and other lightning bugs flitted between leaves, sensing the unexpected presence of living beings. Also among them were the wisps, the spirits. Their haunting elven faces nodded to the two night elves, and they disappeared. They all seemed at ease, save for Thrall and his compatriots. Both he and Cairn, as well as the blademaster, had to stoop slightly. Despite the size of the tree, their heights and massive bulks made them ill suited for sitting among the trees. As if sensing their discomfort, the interior space shifted slightly, branches lowering, coming together to form seating for the Horder officers. Thrall, enchanted by the nature surrounded him, uttered a silent prayer to the spirit of the Earth. They all found places to sit, the more agile (and smallest) of them, being Arlan, Tyrande, Jaina, and Samira, sat high in the branches. Keirn eased himself down onto the base of the upper level.
"Now, Master Hallyn, tell us about these...Praetorian of yours."
"The force we brought with us to Azeroth is divided into two parts, aside from Samira, Arlan, and myself. The first part is the twelve hundred person army, warriors and spellcasters drawn from all the free nations of our world. They are regular soldiers and mages, not the elites of our world, but still ranked among the best."
"We get along with them well," Arland said.
"Indeed. The second part of the force we brought with us is the Praetorian Guard. When we Wardens were first given our powers, the free nations of the world decided to take it upon themselves to gather a force of their elite soldiers and combined them into a army of protectors for us Wardens."
"Hence was born the Praetorian Guard." Again, Arlan had added his commentary.
"Fifty Praetorians were assigned to the each of the Wardens. Given our power-"
"-And our dislike of nations trying to seek favors from us by forcing these people on us-"
"-We really did not require their aid."
"Or want it," this from Samira.
"But in order to keep the nations happy, we acquiessed to their proposal. At first, the Praetorian Guardsmen and women were helpful and did not get in our way. However, over time, they became more a hinderance than anything else."
"Stalking us, constantly asking us if there was anything they could do for us. I swear, one time one of them walked in on me in the bath just to annoy me."
"We eventually managed to learn how to avoid their near omnipresence in our lives. We would meet in secluded places, hiding our identities in order to keep them away. Then our comrades began disappearing. When the Wardens began to vanish from the world, the Praetorian Guard increased their watch over us-"
"-as well as their constant interference in our need for seclusion-"
"-and stayed closer to us at all times. Now there are only three of us left, and our protectors have grown antsy."
"They hate being away from us. They want to cling to our cloaks and drag us into a cave. As if that would help."
"Because we came here to Azeroth, they insisted upon following us. We forced them to stay at Northrend to make sure that the ships we ordered from the goblins were being built. Their job there was to also watch the armies of the Lich King and keep tabs on their movements. Now that the army itself is on the move, the Praetorian probably feels it is necessary to catch up to us, give their reports, and generally become a bother to us once more."
"It sounds to me that you have little respect for those assigned to protect you," the paladin said.
"We have a great level of respect for the Praetorian Guard," Arlan said. "However, their leadership has basically transformed them into zealots."
"You said their leaders were paladins."
"Exactly. The paladins of Concordia are a zealous lot whose holier-than-though attitude endears them to few people. They are blinded by their own light most times, and that leads to big trouble."
"Isn't one of your order a paladin?"
"Yes, but that doesn't make him any different from the others. For years he vied with Keirn to see who was the leader of the Wardens, despite Keirn telling him time and again that no one Warden had more authority than another. Don't get me wrong, paladins are staunch warriors and loyal comrades, but sometimes they can be sanctimonious and their zealous nature can be overwhelming."
"And they despise certain types of magic and beings. The paladins in charge of Samira's, Kaloth's, and my own guards regard us with thinly veiled dislike," Keirn said. "Samira's race are children of the ancient dark elves, who wielded their dark powers in opposition to their brethren the Calad'hrim. Those dark powers are the opposite of everything Concordia's paladins believe in. Kaloth is an orc, whose brethren formed a near unstoppable force to hold us back while their demonic enslavers attempted to take control of our world. The fact that, for the most part, the orcs were enslaved did not matter to Concordia. And I, as you know, am a child of dragons. Dragons and paladins do not get on well, as again the paladins think dragons are merely one step below demons in terms of evil. I cannot abide by such people, no matter how loyal they are to us. If our world is to survive, we all have to get over our petty hatreds and work against the demons and other forces who go against peace."
"Yet you hate the Praetorian."
"There is a fine line between hate and dislike, sir knight. We do not hate the Praetorian, we dislike their sicophantic ways. That is all."
For the next few hours, the Wardens and their new allies discussed the events that had led them all to the land of Kalimdor. The invasion and fall of Lordaeron, the ordering of the Horde, the events that transpired between the orcs, their troll allies, and the mysterious sea witch and her minions on the islands near the Maelstrom. They discussed the corruption of Ashenvale and Felwood, the creeping of demonic energies back into the creatures of the land. And they spoke of the death of Cenarius. Thrall had heard rumors that Grom had been involved in that battle, but he did not realize that Grom himself had been the great demigods murderer.
"Had I not seen what Mannoroth had done to him, I would never have believed Grom capable of such a thing. The Burning Legion has much to pay for. They owe my people a pound of flesh and more."
"We have all suffered losses from the Legion and its minions," Jaina said. "Lordaeron, Azeroth, Stormwind, all of the lands of Azeroth have felt the terror of the Legion. And then there was Arthas...he fell into the darkness-"
"To become the Lich Kings greatest warrior, and the one who found the way for Archimonde to return to this world. He and Kel'Thuzad are the ones who opened to portal to the Twisting Nether, allowing the Eredar warlock into this world once again. Arthas is not the man he once was," Arlan said.
"We met him in Northrend. He was once human, but now he is truly one of the Lich Kings death knights. Fortunately Ner'zhuls energies are locked away within the frozen throne atop the world. If they were to be released, if Arthas were ever to take control of those powers, there would be little hope for your future."
"And what if you were to stay here?"
"Our world needs us, but if we were to stay here we could stop him. Had we arrived a few moments earlier, and had your defenses not held, we would have destroyed Archimonde easily."
"No Keirn, you could have taken on Archimonde easily. It was to you and Pius that the gods gave the real power, remember? As if your inherent abilities were not already good enough. To give a tithe of their power to a half-dragon and the keeper of the Amulet of Uriel is to create warriors of great skill. On our world only the Great Dragons and the gods themselves could stop you, here...only Medivh or the Aspects could stop you."
"I'm trying to figure out if that was a good idea or a bad one on their part," Keirn said. "I do not much like having these powers. Fortunately we can only excercise them at times of when they are most needed." Silence fell. This revelation to the leaders of the free nations of Azeroth came as a surprise to them. They had already known these three Wardens were great warriors, but they had not known they controlled such power.
"So...." Furion began, but stopped.
"Yes?"
"So your power is above that of even those of Cenarius and the generals of the Burning Legion?"
"Mine are..."
"Whereas Samira and I are only merely as powerful as Cenarius and the generals of the Burning Legion."
"How? How is that possible?"
"Our demons are tougher than yours."
"Yes, but to hold this much power...we have seen what it can do. Deathwing, Medivh, my brother Illidan, they all have such power, and they have been driven mad by it. How is it you can wield such energies and not share the same fate?"
"That answer is simple," Arlan said. "We have people to share our burden with. Deathwing was driven mad by the loss of his clan, so he fell into his power. Medivh was forced at a young age to hold the powers of his mother Aegwynn, as well as the energies of Sargeras himself. The conflict between light and dark did not give him much of a chance at a normal life. Illidan was sealed away for ten thousand years with nothing to keep him company except for your watchers who, I might add, probably are not the best conversationalists. Power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutely, yet our power is not absolute. As Keirn said, we can only access those powers given us by the gods when we cannot handle the situation ourselves. So far we haven't had to do that."
A horn sounded in the distance, the clarion call of the horns of the Sentinels.
"It would seem that something approaches," Tyrande said. "I hope it is this Praetorian Guard of yours and not some horde of demons from your world."
"As do I..." The fighters jumped from the tree, while trying their best to not harm the great tree that had graciously allowed them sit in it. On the horizon they could see dozens of dark shapes approaching. As they came closer, their shapes became more distinct. Some of them were decidely wyrmic in appearance, while others were more birdlike. Still others were large and bulbous, with spinning blades in the rear: goblin airships. The massive zeppelins slowly made their way across the tops of the trees. The other shapes took on even more form, there were dragons and gryphons escorting the airships. They circled overhead and some of them began to land.
From the lead zeppelin came three tall figures. They wore armor of sivler and gold, with flowing capes of dark midnight blue flowing in the wind from the landing zeppelins. At their sides were the blessed swords of their order, their silver helms ringing as they clanged against the armor from their clips on the broad belts. On each of their breast plates was a stylized cross overlaid with a sword and shield. There was a deep gasp from behind Keirn. He inclined his head slightly to see the Knight of the Silver Hand suck in his breath. So the paladin finds someone who exudes holiness more than him... Keirn thought with a smile. He turned his gaze back to the paladins of Concordia as they approached him, Samira, and Arlan. The lead paladin, an middle aged warrior with slight graying hair, stopped before them and bent to a knee. The two other paladins fell into a similar position. Before Keirn could tell them to stand a voice from the distance beat him to it.
"Oh get to your feet you damnable fools!" Behind the paladins, out of the zeppelins, came another trio of warriors. Like the paladins they wore armor made out of silver, but in place of the gold they had lining of a black metal called ebony. They wore cloaks of a light-leeching black material, and their dragonhelms also were attached to their belts. At their waists hung swords similar in design to the paladins of Concordia. And though they could not see them, Keirn and the other Wardens knew that at their backs hung short staves of embued with magical energies.
"Who are they?" Jaina asked Arlan with a whisper.
"They are templar, from the kingdom of Dyscallion, Concordia's neighbor. While the paladins are in service of the god Wotan, the templar pay homage to the gods of magic," Arlan said to her silently. "In other words, they're much nicer." He winked and she stifled a laugh. The Concordian knights were still on the ground, scowling at the templar commanders remarks. The templar themselves were coming closer, smiles on their jovial faces.
"Lord Hallyn, Lord Vermel, Lady Samira, good to see you once again," the leader of the templar said to them. He neatly stepped over the paladins to shake Keirns hand. "We were afraid we would miss you. You haven't had any trouble here have you?"
"No Captain Aenis, no real trouble."
"Just the usual undead and demons right?"
"Yes."
"Good. We need to fight too you know. It's so boring being stuck in a frozen prison." Captain Aenis looked down at the kneeling paladins. "Oh...sorry about that Enthal, did I interrupt you?" Keirn followed the templar's gaze."
"Commander Enthal, I apologize for keeping you in that position," Keirn said, though there was little apology in his voice. "How many times have I told you not to kneel in front of me?"
"Lord Hallyn, it is my duty as appointed to me by the Eternal Council-"
"To hell with your council sir knight. They appointed you to serve as my commander, correct?"
"Yes my lord..." Commander Enthal said through clenched teeth.
"And as my commander it is your duty to follow my commands?"
"Yes..."
"Then stand up and do as you are ordered." Both the paladin and his two cohorts stood. "Excellent. Anything to report?"
"No m'lord, just that the Praetorian Guard is here to serve you."
"Oh joy..." Thunder muttered from the back of thr group.