Katara's house was nothing like the grand halls he'd grown up in, but Iroh had always liked it all the same. It was small, consisting only of a living room, kitchen, and several bedrooms, all decorated in dark woods and comfortable plush fabric. The kitchen, where she'd taken Iroh and Asami, consisted of an icebox, range, and a single sink set into a low counter. In the daytime, the large kitchen window provided a nice view of the Southern Mountains. The walls were mostly hung with family photos; the one closest to Iroh featured a much younger, rather pretty Katara alongside a beaming Avatar Aang and their three scowling teenage children. It was a nice house; the kind of house you could imagine growing old in.
Iroh sat with Asami and Katara at the kitchen table, eating cookies and sipping at a steaming mug of hot chocolate. He'd wanted to set off immediately, but Katara was surprisingly insistent, and in the end he'd given in. Ultimately he was grateful that she'd pushed the warm food and drink on him. He hadn't realized how tired and hungry he was after their trek into the city.
Iroh, with help from Asami, had given Katara the highlights of their trip, including his purpose for coming and initial plans to try and help end the war. Katara, in turn, told him and Asami what she could about the current situation in the South Pole. It was worse than he'd thought. In addition to launching a full-scale invasion by the Northern Water Tribe, their chief, Unalaq, had intentionally stirred up a large number of dark spirits and released them into the physical world. As Iroh had suspected, a larger disturbance was probably behind his and Asami's own encounter with an angry spirit a week prior. Dark spirits now roamed the streets of the city, attacking any citizens who ventured from their homes. As if that wasn't enough, Chief Tonraq and several other leaders of the Southern resistance were missing and presumed captured. Avatar Korra had disappeared as well, closely pursued by Unalaq's two children, and hadn't been seen since. The rest of Asami's friends, along with Katara's children Bumi, Kya, and Tenzin, were nearby regrouping.
Meanwhile, they'd learned that Unalaq's plans extended far beyond the forced unification of the water tribes. He'd tricked Korra into opening the spirit portal that lay in the mountains to the south of the city, and instead of using it to create balance in the Spirit World he planned to use it for some as-yet-discovered but likely unpleasant purpose.
To Iroh, the dark spirits were the immediate threat. Whatever Unalaq was up to, the spirits were the key, and stopping them would both help safeguard the civilian population and potentially derail his ultimate plans. According to Katara, Unalaq had set off in the direction of the Spirit Portal with a significant force. If so, that's where Iroh intended to go as well.
Asami, meanwhile, would join the rest of Team Avatar as they planned and waited for Korra's return. It wasn't lost on Iroh that she'd also be reunited with Mako, whatever that meant for the both of them. He told himself that he wished them well, and almost believed it.
They parted at Katara's door, pockets stuffed with what remained of the cookies. The old master herself would stay at home; she wanted to be in a known location in case anyone in the community needed healing. She wished Asami luck and encouraged her to bring back news of Korra as soon as something changed. To Iroh, she simply said, "And you, hotshot. Just make sure you don't die. Your grandfather would never forgive me." And with that, she went inside and closed the door.
"That was… sweet?" Asami said. She smirked. "And practical. I'll second it. Don't die, Iroh. We've forbidden it."
Iroh smiled, then stuck out a hand. This was it then. "You either," he said. "It's been an honor, Miss Sato. Asami." Asami grinned, and they shook. "And thank you. I'd never have made it without you."
"Then you'd best make it count," she said.
Asami's cheeks were already pink with cold. At some point she'd reapplied her makeup, and her lips were now the color of frozen berries. An image rose in Iroh's mind, unbidden, of those lips pressed to someone else. He looked away.
"all right, get going before you freeze," he said. "I can't follow you around making fire all night, now can I?"
Asami nodded, turned, and waved once. Then, she was gone.
The trip to the spirit portal didn't take as long as he'd feared. Skirting the city at an angle, he'd struck off into the mountains after Unalaq. He didn't have Asami with him to help break a trail, but Unalaq's troops had left a wide swath of ground trampled nearly flat and the going was relatively easy. Two hours found him at the top of a wooded ridge, looking down at what had become the Northern Water Tribe's auxiliary encampment.
Iroh absently munched a cookie while he studied the strange scene. The troops, as well as quite a bit of heavy machinery, were arranged in a rough grid before a small forest of dark pines. The soldiers had already pitched camp, and the valley below bristled with neat rows of tents. In the center of the forest a bright beam of pure white light, about as wide as a small house, streaked up into the sky.
That must be the spirit portal, then, he thought.
Iroh estimated there might be a hundred men guarding the portal, and half as many mecha tanks. Not great odds, but not impossible, either. He'd been in the Forces long enough to know how a well-planned surprise attack could overcome even a seemingly huge superiority of numbers. Besides, he didn't have to defeat Unalaq's entire army—he only had to spoil his plans, or give Asami, Avatar Korra, and the rest the opportunity to do so. Tides had turned on lesser things before.
The trick, he thought, would be to inflict the maximum amount of damage and chaos in the shortest amount of time. He wouldn't have long, and there was no one to cover a retreat. Go in, go big, get out.
He found himself wishing, not for the first time, that he'd had any kind of bending besides fire. Fire was incredibly powerful, but at the end of the day it had limited uses. It could set things on fire, and… it could set things on fire. Burning was the beginning, middle, and end of the list. A waterbender would be able to push and pull tents and equipment, freeze and maybe shatter metal, cut wires, slick surfaces, and create whole new structures out of ice. If he could earthbend he'd be able to shape the battlefield itself, sink some of those mecha and maybe the command tent into the ground, and some airbenders could make tornados, and— He sighed. Fire was what he had.
He couldn't possibly go head-to-head with every man in the camp though. What he needed was a way to scale, to make his firebending impact a larger area all at once. It was like what Asami had done with the dark spirit back in Fa Re, when she had thrown the fuel-soaked cloth on its head. When it became clear that the spirit could heal in between his shots, she'd used the flammable fabric to allow him to do more damage all at once.
Which, he thought, looking down at the encampment, was actually not a bad idea.
Iroh made his way down the ridge and walked into the camp. No one stopped him. He'd learned over the years that if you walked with confidence and acted like you knew where you were going, others would assume that you belonged. Still, he couldn't help feeling a little smug. He liked to think that trick wouldn't work on his own forces. Unalaq was clearly more of a politician than a general, and his security was sloppy.
Three rows of tents in, he slowed. No one was nearby. He crouched down, grabbed the corner of the closest tent in one hand, and quickly set it ablaze. Then he kept walking.
Iroh headed straight for the mecha. In a battle of man versus machine he'd bet on the machine every time, so that was where he wanted to focus. He slowed his pace as he approached, studying the angles as he walked. The enormous armored suits stood in a long row behind the last of the tents. Roughly man-shaped, each suit was nearly 12 feet tall and made of interlocking plates of solid metal, the one exception being the glass faceplate in the center of each "head" that allowed the operator to see. Their hulls gleamed dully in the moonlight.
Iroh slowed to a stroll. Come on...
"Fire!" The shout came from the other side of the camp. The burning tent had finally been noticed. A few heads emerged from the tents in front of Iroh as soldiers registered the alarm. Then, one by one, they rushed off in the direction of the fire. Good. He hadn't wanted to hurt anyone if he could possibly help it.
Iroh took three deep breaths, then took off sprinting towards the row of tents. He ran in a crouch, left hand extended to the side and slightly upwards. When he passed the first tent, he hit it with a powerful jet of fire. It exploded backwards, knocked clean off the ground by the force of the blast. He kept running all-out, and as he passed each successive tent he hit it with his fire as hard as he possibly could. The peaked canvases, blasted from a low angle, flew up and backwards as they burst into flame. Where they collided with the mecha tanks.
His goal wasn't to set the tanks on fire. Though he could probably melt metal if he really tried, it would take too much time and do too little damage. And there was no way a burning tent would make so much as a dent in one. But Iroh was very familiar with the kind of heavy, wax-coated canvas used in army tents, and as he looked back he saw that he'd judged correctly. Each mecha tank was now covered in a flaming mass of charring, melting canvas that would be almost impossible to clean off the faceplates. The suits, blinded, were effectively useless.
Iroh had gotten roughly two thirds of the way down the row of tents before he heard his first pursuer. For a big man, he was fast. This is why I train distance, Asami, he thought, and grinned fiercely.
"There!" yelled a soldier behind him. "Stop him! He's heading for the Chief!" This was news to Iroh. The big tent up ahead to his right must be Unalaq's, then. This opened up entirely new possibilities. If Unalaq could be taken out, the whole civil war might be over tonight. It was risky, as the Chief of the Northern Water Tribe was likely heavily defended and a formidable bender in his own right, but Iroh decided that it was worth a shot. He'd come this far, after all, and he wouldn't get another opportunity like this.
He stopped firing the tents and jagged right. He was just in time, too. A jet of water blasted the space where he'd been only a moment before. The pursuing soldiers were catching up, and at least one of them could waterbend. Iroh picked up his pace, using the last of his reserves in a headlong sprint towards the big tent. He readied his fire, regretting the need but preparing to blast his way through anything and anyone that stood between him and the man who could end the war.
Iroh was 20 feet from the tent when his right leg exploded in pain. He reeled and went down, hard, and the world went black.