Damon regretted the wording of that order immensely that evening. One of the stupid mages decided to use an untested translation spell, knocking himself unconcious from backlash and giving the bullman he used it on a rather severe headache. The natives had been communicating with Seamus by means of the elements but it had been slow going and so one had volunteered for the spell. Sitting in front of his tent and watching the giant slowly shake his head, carefully avoiding injuring anyone with his long horns, Damon gave a long sigh.

"Sir Randall," Damon called for the nearby knight and gave a look of hope at his approach. "Please tell me it wasn't your mage again."

With a quiet chuckle the knight shook his head to deny. "No Commander, he's investigating an herb one of the natives had with them. I actually haven't heard from him in several hours..." Sir Randall trailed off, looking thoughtful.

Damon paled rapidly at that, "I think you may need to check on him."

"That would probably be best Commander," Sir Randall gave a salute and departed.

"Excuse my state," Damon's guest spoke slowly. "I am Magrum, Chieftain of the Ironhoof, and I thank you for freeing my people. We are of the shu'halo, the tauren in your tongue."

The being before Damon sat clad in rough leathers with a very crude hammer resting not far away, obviously set aside for the meeting. "I am Damon Ashfall, Knight of Stormwind. I'm sorry we took so long, but with my people under threat I couldn't move any faster."

Magrum waved the apology aside as he drank from the water they had been provided. "My people survived by will of the spirits. It has always been so." The tauren looked back to his gathered people in the distance. There were barely more than a half dozen survivors and one of them was a young child. "Whether few or many, my tribe lives on."

"Do you need an escort back to your home?" Damon asked quietly after several moments. "We can provide you with one."

The tauren shook his head slowly, mindful of his headache. "The Gelkis centaur burned it all, nothing remains but ash and bones."

Damon winced at the thought of Stormwind lying in such a state. "Where will you go then? Your people will need to rest and the centaur will definitely be riled up."

"We would follow you Damon Ashfall," Magrum replied firmly. "My tribe owes a debt to you, I owe a debt to you."

"But I barely did anything," Damon exclaimed. "I only struck down a few centaur myself during the battle."

The giant before him gave a sad look in return, "I could not avenge my brother, slain by the centaur Khan. I could not save my people who fell to the centaur blades. Earth Mother willing, I would find redemption by your side."

"We've agreed to defeat the Earth Princess with the help of the Ancients," Damon pointed out. "She and her wild centaur offspring destroyed this land."

Magrum Ironhoof lowered his head in shame at that information. "She may have drained the life from these lands, but my ancestors were the ones to wake her. They confused her whispers with that of the Earth Mother and when the elemental awoke this land was turned into Desolace."

Damon looked to the ashamed native sadly, "I suppose your people could find a place among mine. Let us hope that the differences do not prove to be too much."

"The Ironhoof will never forget this," Magrum vowed as he stood. "My line shall not rest until this land has been healed."

Damon had to look quite far up to meet his eyes but he returned the sentiment with a smile. Watching the native lumber away Damon briefly wondered how Commander Greybraid would react. That was going to be an amusing meeting at least. Almost as amusing as the look on his face once he realized the tauren weren't the only ones Damon returned with.

This brought him to another mess of trouble, as only three females among the centaur were considered 'non-combatant' and that was caused by a lack of weapons. Damon kept them with the younglings regardless of the fact that they had to be chained, the youngest would starve without them. When he pointed this out to the dwarven guards they swore quietly but kept a diligent watch as none could wish that fate on a child regardless of race.

Seamus was off communicating with the local elemental spirits now that dialogue had been properly opened between the two races. The dwarf seemed eager to spread the healing nature of the land as quickly as possible so Damon let him be. This wasteland wasn't to anyones liking as far as Damon was concerned, barring the centaur of course.

The elf was still recieving healing from a shaman and priest duo. She had been carrying a message addressed to him and had apparently fought quite violently to avoid capture if her injuries were to be judged. It was sadly written in the elven language and so Damon and his men were unable to read it without the messenger.

"Of course it had to be in elvish," Damon grumbled, glaring at the letter in his hands. "Did the translation spell wear off before she wrote this?"

"Elder Rusthorn can read elvish." Damon twitched at Magrum having managed to silently approach. "If you have an instrument to write with that I can manage, I believe we could translate that into your tongue."

Damon considered the offer briefly before agreeing. "See if you can't find Sir Randall and his mage. They can assist in translating from your language to ours, if you'll allow me to observe the elvish translation." Damon waved the letter in his hand slowly. "I can't let something like this out of my sight, but with accurate translations learning both languages would be vastly easier than spells."

Damon had stayed up well into the night with the tauren. Elder Rusthorn actually had gleaming black horns, but apparently had a fondness for rusting things with fire and water shaman magic. Magrum assured him that the Elder only did this in combat and the Elder rarely saw much of that, preferring to tell stories of the tribes history. Damon had watched in awe as Magrum carefully grasped the largest quill Damon owned, slowly adding words to a sheet as Elder Rusthorn read in his native tongue.

Now he sat in the morning light watching the final translation being written down, the mage holding himself rigid in fear of failure. It was mildly amusing as Sir Randall sat behind the mage with a smile as he breathed heavily as if down the poor fools neck. Magrum was skillfully avoiding tipping the mage off to the scare tactic as he recited the letter word for word.

Damon didn't actually need the last translation, considering Magrum could do it, but examples of the other languages were necessary. When the mage, who Damon learned was named Michael, finally finished the letter he swiftly fled the tent. Damon picked up the translation before looking to Sir Randall who failed to hold in his snickering.

"That one has too much energy," Magrum commented slowly, causing both mens eyes to snap to him. "He needs a strong mate."

Damon had to hide his smile as Sir Randall doubled over with restrained laughter. "There's a bit more to it than for our kind."

"Don't I know it," Randall gasped out from his chair. "The wife will be laughing about that one for weeks."

Damon gave a chuckle before proceeding to read. "Damon 'the Stormbringer' Ashfall, Knight of Stormwind," Damon read off, amusement on his face. "Despite the countless raids upon our kind and the very threat they pose to natural order, Sentinel leadership has refused to commit to a war with the centaur. They have also denied the deployment of 'active' patrols to the region, even knowing the danger the awakened Ancients are in." Damon bit back a complaint as he noticed the next line, cutting off Sir Randall's attempt to speak with a glance. "I have spent several favors to ensure material aid for your people, including several shipments of food. I have also advised several of my Sentinel sisters of the plight of Desolace, Stormbringer, so expect the occasional traveler along with the food and arrows. Shandris Feathermoon, Sentinel."

"Well Commander," Sir Randall spoke out first, "I don't know about the arrows but we need the food."

"I am aware of our lack of farmland Sir Randall," Damon replied carefully. "The cliffs follow the land for several miles, we just haven't managed to clear it of the magically fueled trees. Commander Greybraid has been using that lumber for the gatehouses and walls."

It was true enough. The lumber was extremely difficult to cut through, and before Damon departed Greybraid had asked Branka for help solving the issue. He was slightly worried about the solution as the magically dense forest stretched along the coast for miles. The old dwarf was gnashing at the bit to get that lumber, followed closely behind by the mages and craftsmen.

"Magically fueled trees?" Chietain Magrun sounded confused and Damon gave him a brief explanation. "Maybe one of my tribesmen will find their path there. Our people used to tend to the groves that remained in this land long ago, before the centaur pushed us out. The title of Stormbringer is fitting in a way."

"Your people could probably fell a tree far more easily," Damon agreed as he looked upon the Tauren. "If they can cut it down they're welcome to it, especially if they want to farm the land."

"That will give my mate and I something to do," Magrum mused. "The little one is just old enough to sit and listen to the Elder."

"I don't supposed you have a warrior among your tribe that you would like to outfit heavily, do you?" Damon asked as he thought of something. "I'd love to see that on the battlefield against the centaur."

Chieftain Magrum chuckled deeply as he stood, carefully ducking to avoid piercing the tent roof with his horns. "If you will it, I shall make the heavens themselves tremble before you, Stormbringer."

Sir Randall looked up, a look of curiosity crossing his face. "Some heavy plate, a new warhammer, and he could go right through most gates the centaur are likely to build. But aren't you a shaman, won't that interfere with casting?"

"I hold the potential, but nothing more. I have walked the warrior's path for many seasons." That was certainly saying something as Chieftain Magrum felt somewhere upwards of his third decade to Damon. "My kinsman Ahpo is a shaman, as is the Elder. My mate's father will likely join me on the battlefield as well."

"Well then, let's see about getting our men home." Damon put the letter and the translations in his pouch, resolving to go over them with a fine tooth comb. He tapped the jar containing the acorn, noticing a slightly silver glow to it now. "I don't know about you, but I need a good wash." Magrum definitely needed it, having been held captive for several days. There was only so much water to go on in the wastelands.

They sent the elf ahead by gryphon, and Damon turned his forces home. They had lost two dozen men to the centaur tribe in battle, with dozens more wounded from the heavy fightning. The surprise attack had proven effective but the losses were still too heavy in Damon's mind. The score or so of centaur children they now had to raise didn't help matters.

Sir Randall, Chieftain Magrum with several tauren, and half of the cavalry split from the main force after a while and turned to the southwest. Chieftain Magrum had mentioned a beast capable of pulling wagons, some massive lizard called a kodo. Apparently the tribe had a small herd of them before they were attacked and Damon sent them off in search of any of the surviving beasts.

The main force made good time once they were heading west. Despite the march being relatively easy the army was still tense being so close to centaur territory. Damon made plans to get more detailed scouting accomplished as any attempt to take the mountain would be a logistics nightmare. The metal Storm Golem was something that Damon hoped to request several more of, depending on how much Branka would charge them. In teams of two or four the golems could greatly upset any battlefield against the centaur.

The afternoon sun was shining brightly upon their approach home when Damon heard heavy footsteps pounding to the south. Snapping his gaze in that direction he brought his mount to a shocked halt at the sight of Sir Randall returning with three great beasts mounted by tauren. Chieftain Magrum rode beside the human knight astride a large white lizard with two smaller grey beasts trailing them.

Fighting his astonishment at the sheer size of the creatures he waved them to the rear of the line to prevent any issues as the palisade came into view of the leading troops. Happy shouts sprung from their throats at the sight of their new home, and they subtly picked up the pace without breaking formation. Damon let them continue, just as eager to get back as they were.

Commander Greybraid was waiting for them mounted upon a ram. The dwarf had a large smile on his face that dropped when he caught sight of the centaur prisoners. Curiosity soon replaced that as the tauren and kodo walked through the gatehouse, Greybraid eyeing between the gatehouse and white kodo.

"Yer mighty lucky we went with large gates," Commander Greybraid grumbled to Damon as he approached. "How the hell did that thing get past the barricade?"

"Carefully," Damon replied with a grin. Damon waved Magrum and the two who had volunteered for combat forward before clearing his throat. "Commander Corven Greybraid, allow me to introduce you to Chieftain Magrum Ironhoof of the tauren."

The aged dwarf almost immediately stuck a gloved hand out for the tauren to grasp. "Wish we had some like you when those blasted orcs came. A little armour would go a long way with you, aye?"

The tauren nodded together before the eldest spoke in his native tongue, a graying warrior carrying the biggest totem Damon had ever seen. "My mate's father would prefer something he can move in. Our traditional weapons require some skill," Magrum explained before the obviously youngest snorted. "His son disagrees."

"Take them to the forge and let them loose among the smiths," Damon suggested with a grin. "I don't think the smiths are going to argue with their choices."

Commander Greybraid laughed before barking a command out in dwarven to his aide, the poor dwarf scurrying forward to guide the tauren. "I was a bit confused by yer message lad. Now I can see what you meant. I got the boys workin' on cells for the centaur but I don't rightly think that was it."

Damon shook his head. "That could work for the adult females, and we could put the youngest in with them temporarily, but the others need room. I'd prefer to keep them close to each other though." He also intended to keep them firmly away from the main civilian population until word had spread, and under heavy guard. The less contact emotional refugees had with the young the better.

The dwarf stroked his braided beard as he looked to the centaur group. "I might have an idea about that Commander."

Damon let the dwarf lead him south below the cliffside. His curiosity rose when he passed by the entry to the mines and the dwarf didn't slow. Several minutes later Greybraid stopped and Damon looked in shock at a massive hole into the cliff face. Except the walls and edges were far too perfect.

"I've ordered somethin' from Branka, and figured to open another mine up," Commander Greybraid explained as he urged his mount forward into the opening. "Unfortunately we came across a cavern so we scrapped that idea."

"A cavern?" Damon asked as he followed into the surprisingly well lit tunnel. Torches lined the wall along their path for a few dozen feet into the darkness.

"Aye, a cavern. Not much in it except an underground spring." The dwarf stopped his mount suddenly and Damon looked ahead.

The tunnel widened dramatically up ahead, so much so that Damon could not make out the sides except for the torches in the darkness. He urged his mount onward the last few feet and saw that the roof stretched well out of reach even if he carried a spear. The quiet sound of gently moving water echoed from his left and he followed it to find the aforementioned spring.

"The water's safe for drinkin' Commander," Greybraid called out from the caverns entrance.

Sliding from his saddle Damon retrieved his waterskin to test those words. He found the water surprisingly clear, torchlight dancing upon it to reveal the shallow bottom. It was also cold enough to make him shiver when he brought the waterskin back to his lips before letting his mount drink. Damon watched the waters movement as the underground river that fed the spring continued on through. Opening a mine under moving water probably wouldn't be the brightest idea, sure, but this cavern was instead perfect for Damon's needs.

Elder Rusthorn had sequestered himself in the cavern, patiently teaching the young centaur his language with the aid of one of the centaur females. She had apparently been captured from a friendlier tribe by the Gelkis. Taking advantage of the opportunity Damon quickly found a pair of the youngest dwarves around and sent them to sit in on the lessons. Sleeping mats and a few large tents were swiftly constructed and sent into the caverns for the young and their minders.

Commander Greybraid had apparently ordered several stone golems from Branka. The female dwarf was only too happy to make eight foot golems to patrol the streets and help cut the magical wood. When asked why Greybraid chose eight feet Damon was informed that if the golems were too large they'd have trouble fitting everywhere, like the Storm Golem that found itself unable to enter most buildings. They were still working on widening several doors for the tauren to use as well, so a guideline was useful.

The stone golems also wouldn't carry weapons, their large stone fists more than enough to pulverize any threat. Instead of the lightning channeling runes that ran across their current golem Branka would be putting weather resisting and durability runes on them. The sea could do quite some damage to stone, as far as Damon was aware, so he conceded the point to Commander Greybraid.

The rest of the Ironhoof tribe had settled around the entrance to deter any unwanted visitors, and just the sight of the massive tauren sent cowardly civilians running. Several priests had also hauled one of their own to Damon and claimed the man was attempting to incite a riot, painting non-humans as monsters that needed to be cleansed and using the war with the orcs as an example to rally people against the tauren.

"You do realize that under martial law I should rightfully take your head, correct? A riot among our people is really the last thing I need to deal with." Damon stared down the priests who tried to break from the grasps of the knights beside him. "You also realize that our dwarven allies are non-human, don't you?"

"Those foul monsters are in league with them I tell you!" The priest was wild-eyed and struggling violently. "All shall be cleansed by the power of the Holy Light! Corrupted filth like you have no right to command us!" The man spit at Damon though only managed to hit his armoured boot.

"Corrupted?" Damon questioned, eyeing the spittle in disinterest.

"Your non-human ancestry, fool! You think we do not know? You think us blind to your elvish lies? You seek to enslave us all to your foul ways!" The man continued to rant for several moments, until one of the knights restraining him sent a fist into the priests temple when he insisted that Damon's mother was a loose woman.

Once the priest was unconcious Damon sighed and wiped the spit away with a rag. "Lock him up and keep a mixed guard on him. I want his associates questioned thoroughly, and if the foolish rants reveal anything important it is to be brought to myself or Commander Greybraid immediately."

"Right away Commander Ashfall." The knights dragged the priest away from Damon to introduce him to Greybraid's new cells.

Several of the more stubborn humans had condemned the dwarves for not coming to their aid, the orcs for the loss of life and destruction wrought upon their kingdom, and even the mages and knights for failing to destroy the Horde. Damon rotated the jar holding the acorn as he wrote new instructions for Commander Greybraid to increase the guard near the cavern. A vigilant eye was needed in order to keep the more wild citizens from starting any trouble with their new allies.

"Why do we even have these problems?" Damon asked himself as he noticed the silver glow around the acorn had changed to gold. "And what is with the glowing?" He carefully put the acorn aside as he returned to the mountain of paperwork piling up on his desk, intending to clear at least some of it.

AN: That's it for what I have currently, will look into getting around to another chapter soon hopefully.