AN: Sorry it took so long, holiday season, birthdays, and cold weather making me prefer to bundle up and read rather than write. Did some minor editing in the first two chapters when I noticed some rather obvious mistakes that I had missed when tired as well. And I hope my little scene break lines don't bug anyone but I need them to keep track myself so hehe. I've tried to make sure all the little personalities are amusing and fit with the obvious tension that being refugees in an unknown land would bring. Hope you enjoy.

Damon awoke early in the morning to find a storm blowing through the settlement. Men and women scrambled to secure their meagre belongings as the rain soaked the landscape. He sighed as he let the flap fall, resigned to a day of management. Not much would get done outside with the heavy winds and rain.

It took another hour for a soaked Jonathan to appear. "The gryphons are grounded because of the storm, milord. Several lightning strikes were too close for their comfort."

Damon gave a small smile and waved the boy over to the brazier. "That doesn't surprise me, this storm is a big one."

"R-right milord," Jonathan responded as he tried to dry off. "Commander Greybraid said that the roadwork would be delayed because of the weather. I'm sorry I couldn't visit anyone else before coming here, I'm not used to the rain."

Damon looked up from his paperwork and noted the shabby cloak the boy wore. "We'll have to get you a new cloak," Damon mused quietly. "And a satchel for any documents you need to carry."

"I've got a satchel sir." He proved this by bringing a slightly damp bag out from beneath his cloak. "I just didn't have any papers to bring."

"Well when you get a chance ask... Who is in charge of the supplies?" Damon thought back over the many papers he had read but couldn't remember.

"Dame Millicent from Lakeshire is the supply officer." The boy gave a shiver and carefully stepped closer to the brazier. "She's been keeping a stern eye on everyone, milord."

"Supply officers sometimes have to," Damon informed his squire. "Regardless, tell her I sent you for a new cloak. I can't have you freezing in a sudden storm with important documents after all."

Returning his attention to the documents before him, he noted with mild interest that one of the tauren apparently used a foreign magic the night before in front of several witnesses. The fools were shocked when several plants grew from the ground bearing fruit, and fled to Commander Greybraid to report it. Greybraid apparently had the fruit tested and once assured it wouldn't poison him he sampled it. His notes said that the various fruit looked and tasted like any other.

That was a stroke of good fortune as the stockpile of food was slowly disappearing, even with it being rationed out. Damon hoped that the elves really did send relief supplies or the rations would grow even smaller for his people. Starvation was something he did not want to face, so he made a note to ask Chieftain Ironhoof to have that strange magic used on the farms.

Branka was under pressure to fill the order for golems, but according to Oghren she was loving the work. As long as the stress didn't break her Damon was content with the speed of production, though finding her an apprentice or two could prove beneficial. It was unlikely she would share the secret to forging golems with them but having them fetch tools and material should help. The process for finding someone the smith could tolerate would likely take a while, so it was best to get started.

"Yes, that needs looked into," Damon muttered as he wrote a quick note and stuck it in his outgoing paperwork. Waving his mostly dry squire to take the papers he paused in his reading and looked at the boy. "Visit supply first and get that cloak. That note can go to Master Sergeant Oghren before you head to the rest."

"Yes milord," Jonathan replied as he swifted packed up the papers and departed, wrapping his cloak tightly around himself.

Damon spent the rest of the morning eliminating his paperwork, and after succeeding just before lunch, decided to take some food to Branka and Oghren and inspect the golems. Jonathan looked up from his reading but was waved off before Damon clasped his cloak closed.

"I'll be checking in on the golem project and grabbing a meal," Damon told the boy. "You're free until the evening meal once you finish that chapter."

"Milord, don't forget the mages requested a meeting later. They've holed up in the lower floors of the barracks," Jonathan replied as he turned the page.

Damon gave a grunt as he left the tent and was swiftly pelted by the rain. Partial walls had been built around the cook fires to provide better shelter from the elements, for which Damon found himself grateful as he ducked inside the request the food. He paused as he realized the inside was slowly coming to resemble a dwarven bunker and he found the thought amusing. Burdened by the tray of food it took him several long minutes to make his way to the forge, and he almost slipped into the mud more than once.

As he approached the stone structure that contained the forge he could hear a hammer striking metal. "Hello! Can someone get the door?" Damon called out as he stood outside under the overhang of the roof.

The sound of hammering cut out, revealing a sharp tapping, before Oghren opened the door. "Hullo Commander, do I smell food?"

"Let me inside already," Damon laughed as he stepped through the doorway. "Sounded like you were helping Branka out."

"Oh aye," Oghren replied happily before he quickly grimaced. "It's murder to my head though."

"And who went out to drink?" Branka's voice rung out from deeper inside the building, causing her husband to wince.

"Blasted 'regulations' restricting drinking," Oghren muttered as he took the tray from Damon after clearing a table of various tools. "Come eat you crazy woman!"

"In a minute," Brank replied to his shout. "I'm almost done on this shoulder."

"So things are going well then," Damon remarked while glancing at some half-carved stones nearby. "Are any of the golems ready?"

Looking up from his bowl of soup Oghren smiled. "We got two o' the stone and one iron finishin tonight. Branka had to replace one o' the shoulder pieces on the first one and decided to do a bit o' upgrading on the runes."

"And it was a good thing I did." Branka approached the table, wiping her hands with a cloth. "The weather protection I inscribed onto that armor wasn't quite holding up against the storm."

"Stone golems are a bit easier to Branka," Oghren supplied as he passed his wife a bowl. "The blasted spear and shield for a Storm Golem is probably the worst. All those runes. Supplies being what they are though, stone works just fine."

Damon thought about that for a moment before shrugging. "Truth be told, unless the miners come across far more iron than they currently are there is no way we can make more than a couple Storm Golems anyway. There's too much need for iron and steel in construction and arming the men to do otherwise."

"The things an army of those could do though..." Branka happily occupied herself with her thoughts as she ate, ignoring the questioning look Oghren directed her way.

"I'd personally love for a dozen or so but that is months off." Damon sighed as he looked at his swiftly emptying bowl. "I have to go deal with the mages after this, Light only knows what they've gotten up to down there."

"Commander, I got the strangest message earlier. Do you really intend to put some poor apprentice to work with Branka?" Oghren looked at little worried at the thought. "She'll tear that poor soul apart."

"I don't need an apprentice," Branka spoke up as she finished her meal. "They'd only get in the way, slow me down with questions of 'why', and drop my tools!"

"I was thinking more like two," Damon replied slowly as he watched Branka's face twitch. "That way they can bug each other instead of you, of course. And you'd be able to send them scurrying about for materials."

"Aye, there is that." The look at the short woman's face sent a chill down Damon's spine as he swiftly finished eating. "Better be dwarves though. Or maybe a dwarf and a human? Hmm."

Damon stood and stretched briefly. "Will you return those to Cook for me Oghren, I should get down and make sure the mages down blow us all up. Again."

"No problem Commander," Oghren nodded and waved as Damon left the table.

The barracks was surprisingly tidy to Damon's eyes as he walked through, seeking the mages in the basement. It was likely that Greybraid had enforced proper order among the soldiers and that they feared his creative punishments should the new barracks not be up to his standards. Damon was very familiar with the dwarf knight and his ways, so much so that he gave a slight chuckle at a young squire dutifully mopping the floors.

The basement was almost the opposite, reagents scattered across the open room except for an area around a stone arch against the farthest wall. Several mages were surrounding it and judging by the enthusiam they displayed in their conversation they were unlikely to notice Damon if he let them continue. He likely would have except his curiosity about the arch drove him to approach the group.

"What's all this?" Damon asked as he gestured to the archway, causing the mages to swiftly turn and still at the sight of him. "And please, for the love of the Light, clean this place up once in a while."

"Commander, it's good to see you again." A rather buxom redheaded mage woman stepped forward with a smile. "We've been attempting to establish a portal to Lordaeron, but it seems we are so far west the distance has made our attempts fail."

Damon blinked briefly, running through several questions in his head and finally deciding upon one. "So you used the stars to estimate our location?" At the nods of the mages he sighed. "And what is that archway for then?"

"In our attempts at communicating with our fellows, we realized that the only way to form a portal over such a distance was to establish a permanent gateway." The woman gestured to the stone arch behind her with excitement. "Once we decided upon a form we spent all our efforts into proper construction and stability, seeking to reduce the risks that tying it to a leyline would produce. The natural magics in this land are as damaged as the landscape, but of course you know that."

Damon actually did not, but nodded anyways. "So in order to power the thing you needed a stable form for it."

"Indeed Commander, and soon the gateway will be complete. We've been discussing the best way to anchor it, and some of my fellows seem to believe short bursts of energy to supply it would have allowed for a larger portal. I however believe that while a steady supply of energy means the portal size is restricted, the risks are far lower for anything unexpected to occur." The looks the woman was giving him was slightly unsettling but at least she seemed intelligent enough.

"I agree, I would rather have a limited but steady connection than another risky alternative blowing up in our faces," Damon replied, looking sternly around at all the mages. "Now is not the time for risky experiments, nor can we afford for you to kill yourselves to test theories that are unsafe. Go ahead and finish the construction, but make sure you alert Greybraid and have armed guards ready should the portal lead somewhere unsafe."

"Of course sir." The group of mages replied, excitement still evident upon their faces.

"We simply need one of the shaman to ground the connection to the land, once that is accomplished we can open the portal and establish communications." The redhead gave the portal a quick look before turning back to Damon. "Maybe two shaman."

"I'll send Seamus and one of his fellows to give you a hand, no worries. Now, forgive me madam, but I can't recall your name," Damon was really hoping he hadn't been introduced to her already, offending a mage was never a bright idea.

"I am Evelyn my lord." The woman gave a throaty chuckle that made several of her fellows shiver and back away from her. "We've never met, though I have served under your command for several months now."

"My apologies for the delayed meeting then, Miss Evelyn," Damon replied as he watched the reactions of the other mages. "Unless one of you has been otherwise appointed, you're in charge here. I'll go speak to Greybraid and have the shaman down here within the hour if they are around."

"Thank you my lord." Evelyn and the other mages bowed or saluted as he turned and swiftly made his way back upstairs, thoroughly unsettled.

After informing Greybraid of the mages need, and with his promise to send Seamus their way secured, Damon decided to check on his elven guest. It likely wouldn't be too long before she awoke and he would prefer to get that meeting out of the way as swiftly as possible. Indeed he was considering having one of the ships take her back to her people, as they were likely worried about her absence and he did not need a diplomatic incident on his hands.

He gave a slight pause halfway up the hillside as he wondered where the rest of the smiths were set up if Branka had command of the main forge. Shielding his eyes from the rain he looked to the south and spotted a makeshift structure between the barracks and the mine, and even from the distance he could see several plumes of smoke rising into the air. Damon was satisfied by that location as it meant the ore wouldn't have to be dragged through the mud uphill, and he was quite happy to let Branka remain in control of her current workshop.

His father had often told him that you do not upset a craftsman unless you wished for a malfunction at the worst time. He had no wish to test the loyalty of the Storm Golem over such a silly thing, and it kept the golems secure as they were constructed and tested well away from a majority of the civilians. Biting off a curse as he pulled his boot from the mud attempting to trap it, Damon continued his journey back up the hill.

Approaching the medical tent Damon gave a nod to the two guards who saluted when they spotted him, stopping just inside the tent to avoid tracking mud through. "Healer, report on the elf," Damon called softly in an attempt not the wake the injured soldiers occupying the tent.

Two men looked up from whatever they were doing at a bedside before the shorter one swiftly made his way to Damon. "Healer Briar, Commander. Physically our guest has recovered from her stay among the savages, and after checking and rechecking we can rest assured that she is under no poison or spell to keep her unconcious."

"So she hasn't awoken?" Damon gave a glance towards a curtained off area of the tent where another guard and a female healer were standing near. "When can we expect her to be up?"

The shorter man shrugged before answering, "I can only assume within the next day or so Commander, it is likely that she is mentally recovering from her capture. Several of her wounds were quite deep and in the interest of safety we kept her asleep as we worked, but she should be fine."

"Good, I had been considering shipping her back to her people to get the care she needed if we could not provide it," Damon commented. "Is there anything else you require for your patients Healer Briar?"

The healer cautiously looked back to his fellow who was occupied tending to a soldier before turning back to Damon. "If you can make sure another female healer is assigned to us it would ease my mind Commander," Healer Briar said quietly, voice barely reaching Damon. "My fellow is doing his duty but he has a strong hatred of trolls and the slight resemblance is not doing him any favors. He's a good man, but I spent enough time in Dalaran to know that diplomacy can ill afford a stressed healer. Another healer should help keep us calmed down a bit."

Damon gave him a small nod before clapping a hand onto his shoulder, "I'll make sure you get those extra bandages and potions before the day ends. We'll be increasing patrols do to the weather and I don't want some poor fool suffering without because of it."

"Thank you very much Commander Ashfall," Healer Briar gave a relieved sigh. "Several priests are down below making sure the prisoners and our new allies are healthy, so any help is appreciated."

"I'd best get back to my tent and attempts at learning the tauren and elven languages as quickly as I can. Sorry about the mud," Damon very carefully did not look down to see how much he had dragged in.

The healer waved it off with a laugh and since Damon was now mostly warmed up again he swiftly left the medical tent and went for his own. The rain had let up a little thankfully, and even the wind seemed to have calmed some, so he was soon back in the tent with the language examples in hand. After putting the obviously magical acorn beside his papers he got to work on learning yet again, fond memories of his family library flashing through his head.

"Una'fe. Refuge. An'she. Sun. The Sun?" Damon blinked in confusion at that, not understanding the exact meaning. "Ugh and the elven language is just as confusing."

"Why not just have of the mages enchant something that will translate for you milord?" The voice of his squire startled Damon out of his thoughts and he looked up to see the boy was also confused. "Wouldn't that be easier on you?"

Damon sighed as he put the papers down. "It likely would be easier but I have to at least try. Unfortunately I am definitely not gifted with languages, as my early attempts at learning Dwarven and Thalassian showed me." He glanced at his squire before looking back to the translations. "You should attempt to learn these as well, if only a few phrases. It seems to get harder the older you get unless you're already used to it."

"Yes milord," Jonathan sighed and was about to take a seat before the land started shaking slightly. "What's going on?!"

Damon made sure the jar holding his acorn was ok and then stood once the shaking stopped. "Something tells me our mages did something, yet again. Hopefully this time it will have been their job and not something that will give me a headache."

Upon leaving the tent they discovered a large number of the refugees already heading towards Damon, fear upon many faces in the crowd. Smoothing his face to hide his thoughts Damon inwardly sighed at the size of the crowd blocking his path. The only good thing was the rain had finally let up aside from a few sprinkles here and there. Spotting Sir Randall nearby Damon gave him a nod in the direction of the crowd and the knight jumped to obey.

"Hold! Hold damn you," Sir Randall's voice called out as he and his men swiftly intercepted the crowd despite the quite vocal protests. "The Commander doesn't need an unruly mob making his job any harder. Calm yourselves!"

"But the land was shaking! What's next, rocks from the sky?!" A voice called out from among the crowd.

Giving the mountain towering above them a speculative glance Damon stepped forward in order to reassure his people. "People of Stormwind, hear me!" Once the crowd had quieted down a bit he continued, "I was recently informed of some minor success in regards to connecting to Lordaeron and gave the mages attempting it permission to continue. It was likely such an attempt was what caused the earthquake, but rest assured we have several talented shaman available to prevent a catastrophe from happening. Now I call upon those valiant and loyal souls among you to lend your support to the mages as they seek to connect us to our Prince Varian and Lord Lothar in Lordaeron."

Damon gazed out at the crowd, noting several knights among them calming the others. "I know that tough times are upon us all, but through the diligence of our knights, soldiers, and commonfolk we can recover. The Light will protect us even in these dark times, though many of our loved ones have fallen. Now I must see if our efforts have succeed so have faith in the Light, and in Stormwind, and we shall once more stand above all challenges."

Swiftly making his way through the now silent crowd that parted for him, Damon inwardly gave a sigh of relief. Commander Greybraid had taken care of the initial speeches for him after their landing as he was more focused on organizing the command structure in order to maintain peace among the refugees. Public speaking was something he'd had to do a few times while rising up the ranks of the military, being one of the few actual Knight-Commanders available during the war against the orc invaders but it was never something he looked forward too. He would much rather spend his time among books and maps than stand before crowds seeking guidance but he knew his duty and he would fulfill it to his best abilities.

As he approached the barracks he noticed several of the soldiers giving wary looks to the building. Not knowing what to expect he swiftly gathered a small squad to follow him into the building, noting the hulking form of one of the tauren among them. The inside of the barracks was in a definite state of disarray as much of the furniture that they passed had been knocked over and most of the fragile objects were now in pieces. He sincerely hoped that nobody lost a family keepsake to the mess as he did not need an emotional soldier set loose among the others.

After dealing with the basement door being stuck and descending the stairs, Damon discovered Seamus and the other shaman slowly picking themselves up off the floor. "Hey Commander," Seamus greeted as he grimaced from the unexpected nap. "I think we got the connection established, but the mages are out of it for now."

Indeed they were, as all of the mages were lying around the glowing portal of the archway in a semi-circle. Noticing the mage Evelyn in the center he stepped forward cautiously, eyes scanning for any magical anomaly that sought to lash out at him. Standing above the woman he reached down and shook her by the shoulder as he watched the swirling blue portal in the room.

"Wha'?" The mage was obviously tired if the way her eyes slowly opened was any indication. "Hello Commander, did it work?"

"See for yourself," Damon replied as he carefully helped the woman sit up, unsure if she was injured or not. "It certainly looks like a portal, but I was more focused on military history than magic during my studies."

Evelyn gave a short laugh before groaning. "I certainly hope that portal works, I don't think we can do that again until the leylines recover. If it wasn't for the shaman stabilising the thing our remains would be at the bottom of a crater." She slowly stood on shaking legs, leaning heavily against Damon in the process. "It seems the connection is stable, but the only way of knowing where it leads is to either send someone through or hope something friendly comes here. I don't know about you Commander, but I think we should take the initiative in regards to it."

Damon smiled before he turned to Jonathan, his loyal squire standing a short distance away. "Send for Sir Randall, his mage, and at least two priests. Preferably one skilled in diplomacy." Looking at the soldiers that followed him he gave a nod at seeing them help the other mages up and righting the furniture. "Four guards at the doorway upstairs, four down here. Nobody in or out without permission from myself or Commander Greybraid. I don't want anything going wrong with this portal or someone will find themselves executed."

"Right away milord!" Jonathan replied with a salute before sprinting away.

Damon turned back and kept his eyes on the portal as Evelyn and the other mages went to sit down and recover. "Let's hope this works out."