Chapter 4 – On to Feathermoon

The reinforcements had shown up just in the nick of time. Shauna, Ulfgar and Sildor heard the noise of the battle as they rode in on the backs of their hippogryphs. They ran to the inn as soon as they landed and saw the melee going on inside. Shauna incanted the words to her spell, filling the room with spell fire.

"What the Hell happened here?" Ulfgar asked. "You guys throw a party and don't even invite me?"

"Just like a Dwarf to show up late!" Rogar smiled as he gave Ulfgar a hearty handshake. "How have you been, my friend?"

"Same as always." The Dwarf grumbled, "The Undead in Stratholme have seen the fury o' this paladin, ya can be sure!"

"I'm sure they have!" Rogar laughed. "I'm sure they have."

"All pleasantries aside," Shiner interrupted, "we need to make a quick patrol around the town and make sure that was the last of the Horde. I don't want any more surprises."

The adventurers, now ten strong, split up into two groups and did another search of the town. Rogar and Shiner filled in the latecomers on the whole story. It was dawn before they completed their sweep of the town. When they were sure the Horde had completely cleared out of Astranaar they started a small cooking fire and sat down to prepare some breakfast.

"Well," Shiner said with a mouthful of food, "when we're done here, the Mages can create a portal for us and we can head back to Darnassus. We can resupply and then grab a hippogryph ride to Feathermoon. Depending how late it is at that point we can decide whether to stay overnight in town, or make our way to the entrance of Dire Maul. Lien, Rogar tells me you had business in Dire Maul as well. You care to elaborate on that?"

"Not really." The Mage replied. "I appreciate all you've done for me. And I'm thankful that we met. But my business is my own, and I'd like to keep it that way. If there's a problem with that I would be more than willing to go my own way."

"I don't think that will be necessary." Rosefire answered. "We can at least stay together until we reach Feathermoon. I've fought beside you, and if I can trust my life to you in battle I can surely trust you as a traveling companion."

"I'll second that." Loderr added. "Besides, Ivan's taken a bit o' a shine to the lass. And I've found no one to be a better judge o' character than that flea-bitten hairball!" Indeed, the bear was lying behind Lien, who was sitting propped up against him. Lien scratched Ivan behind the ear and the bear let out a deep, contented sigh.

"Well, it's settled then." Rose declared. "We'll travel to Feathermoon, and at that point Lien can decide whether she wants to stay with us or continue on her own. But if we're going to help you accomplish whatever it is you've set out to do, it would help if you let us in on it."

"Thank you, Rose." Lien answered. "And if the time is right I will. But right now I'd rather keep things to myself."

The adventurers finished up their breakfast and packed up their gear. When the party was ready Shauna chanted a long spell. A glowing ball of light appeared in front of her, and it started to spread out in a larger and larger arc. As it grew the inside of the sphere began to tear open and inside was a vision of the main hall in the elf city of Darnassus. One by one the adventurers placed their hand in the middle of the sphere and then disappeared. When the last of them had gone through, Shauna touched the sphere herself and Astranaar was once again deserted.

The party made their way to the Tradesman's Terrace of Darnassus. They sold the few random items they recovered from the corpses of the Horde. Not much really, just some cheap weapons and armor. But it was enough to cover the cost of some provisions for their trip to Dire Maul and enough to get their armor and equipment repaired as well. The spell casters stocked up on their reagents, and the rest of the group made their way toward the bank to store away a few items they wouldn't need for the trip.

When they completed their business in Darnassus the adventurers boarded a boat sailing for a small Elven town on the main continent of Kalimdor known as Auberdine. Once they arrived, they made their way to the hippogryphon master and paid for a flight to Feathmoon Stronghold on a small island off the far southwest coast of Kalimdor. The adventurers climbed onto the backs of the animals, and the magnificent beasts spread their massive wings. With a leap the hippogryphons shot into the air, their wings catching a current of ocean air, and they quickly climbed to a dizzying altitude.

Rogar always enjoyed traveling by gryhon. The view was always breathtaking, and it was the only time you could really sit back, relax, and not worry about a thing. On some of the longer trips, like the one to Feathermoon, he'd even fallen asleep from time to time. The soft feathers of the gryphon's back were more comfortable than any bed in any inn Rogar had ever slept. The gryphons knew their routes well, and needed no direction or instruction from their riders. They instinctively flew their paths after years of traveling the routes. And the gryphon masters kept close watch over their animals, only choosing the best and most reliable of the beasts.

As they flew over the town of Astranaar Rogar noticed that some of the villagers had begun coming back to the town. The Sentinels were back, and a few of the merchants had taken up shop again. He wondered if they even knew the sacrifice he and his friends had made to restore their home. The life of an adventurer was a thankless one, to be sure. It seemed at times like everyone you meet had a problem they needed your help to solve. Either they were too busy to collect some items that they need, or there was a particularly troublesome creature that had been terrorizing their town. Or sometimes they just wanted you to deliver a message to someone in another town far away. Whatever the task, you could be sure that as soon as you walked into any town in Azeroth wearing armor and a sword, someone was going to ask you to do something for them.

And really, that's what started all this mess, wasn't it? Rogar and Shiner had just been looking for some place to rest for the night. As they traveled through Feralas they saw the signs for Feathermoon Stronghold and figured it had to be better then laying out the bedrolls and sleeping on the cold earth for another night. As they made their way to the inn a Night Elf named Scholar Runethorn approached them requesting their help.

Runethorn was searching for an Elven master by the name of Kariel Winthalus. Kariel had stolen several artifacts from the Elven homelands and Runethorn and her order had pursued him all across Azeroth. Their hunt for Winthalus had finally ended in Feralas, where they believe him to be hiding in Dire Maul. The perils of Dire Maul proved to be too great for the Scholar, but she was sure that brave adventurers such as Shiner and Rogar would have no problem with the Ogres and other assorted creatures that have inhabited the fallen city. Scholar Runethorn requested that Shiner and Rogar travel to Dire Maul and recover the artifacts from Winthalus. Of course they would be compensated, and have her undying gratitude. Wasn't that always the case?

Of course Shiner and Rogar knew they couldn't handle such a task alone, so they split up and traveled to the far reaches of Azeroth to assemble their guild mates for the task. The plan was to meet back in Darnassus, head to Dire Maul, retrieve the Scholar's artifacts, and collect the reward. But things never go according to plan, do they?

Rogar thought about all that had transpired between that first meeting with Scholar Runethorn and now as he sat atop his gryphon flying over the Tauren lands of Mulgore. Was this really all worth it? Who really cared about a bunch of old Elven artifacts anyway? They were probably just some crusty, old stone tablets, or some musty, old books. Why did he continually stick his neck out and risk life and limb for these strangers who sent him on impossible missions? "Because you're a Paladin." the voice in his head reminded him. "You swore an oath to protect those who cannot fight for themselves and to uphold the light."

But he didn't feel like a Paladin anymore. He felt more like a mercenary. Sword for hire. Have mace, will travel. He remembered with a small tinge of longing when he first became a Paladin. He was young and idealistic back then; full of naive dreams. How many creatures and people had he killed since then? The numbers were too high to count. How many of those people believed in their cause the way he believed in his? Who's to say they weren't right and he was wrong? The line between good and evil blurred for Rogar with each kill. A part of him longed to burry his sword deep in the earth and never pick up a weapon again. He could find a good woman, settle down somewhere and start a family. Maybe he could even put his blacksmithing skills to use for something other than making armor and weapons of death. He fell asleep on the back of the gryphon, dreaming of a better life.

* * * * *

Lien held a small pack in her lap as she flew on the back of the gryphon. She wondered if any of her new companions had noticed it yet. She wondered if they were suspicious of how she never let the pack out of her sight; how she slept with it beneath her head each night. She was fairly sure they hadn't noticed, but paranoia was something she had grown accustomed to at this point. Of course she wouldn't have used that word to describe it. She was just being cautious, she told herself. After all, you don't go waving an item like this around in the Ironforge auction house. Items such as this one draw attention of the wrong kind.

She was anxious now to complete her quest. She was close, and she could feel it. Years of collecting and searching were near an end. She wondered for a moment what she would do when it was over. This had been her goal for so long now, it motivated every decision and action that she made. A casual observer would easily label it an obsession. But again, that was not a word Lien was comfortable using. Words like "obsession" and "paranoia" are reserved for people with issues. Not her.

Call it a Quest, call it an Obsession, call it whatever you like, but Lien had thought of nothing else since the day the Libram fell into her hands. It seemed like such a simple book. Bound in weathered, brown leather with very plain markings on the outside. She opened the book to the middle and thumbed threw a few pages, expecting to find a story or some lore about the Elves that used to inhabit Dire Maul. Instead she found runes. Magical runes, most of which she had never seen before. Occasionally she could decipher a word here or there, but never enough to actually read or learn any of the spells within the book.

This aggravated Lien more than she would admit. She had studied the magical arts for almost her entire lifetime. Ever since she was a little girl in Stormwind, she would follow her father around like his shadow, learning anything she could from him. By the age of ten she was reading his spell books and scrolls. By fifteen she was already a fixture within the Mage Quarter, and many of the Arch Mages already knew of her. By eighteen she had completed her apprenticeship and was given her Mage robes.

Unlike her father, who used his magic for study and learning, Lien left the safety of Stormwind's walls to explore Azeroth and become an adventurer. She occasionally returned to Stormwind to visit her father and share her incredible stories with him. Tales of great creatures and epic battles with the Horde. She would bring him magical items from far away places for him to study and examine. But much to her dismay, her father never seemed to be as impressed with her accomplishments as she had hoped. He felt she was putting herself at unnecessary risk, and that she should "grow up" and settle down in Stormwind. He often encouraged his daughter to stay in the Mage Quarter and study with him. Surely she had the talent to become an Arch Mage herself one day. But Lien couldn't stand the thought of staying in one place for the rest of her life. How boring would it be to wake up day after day in the same town, doing the same thing? She knew that wasn't the life for her. She enjoyed the adventure. And the danger. It was something her father could never understand, and would never accept.

But the Libram would change all that, she had thought to herself. Reading its strange runes and unknown text, Lien knew her father would be excited to see it. With his help they could translate it together, and perhaps learn long lost magics that no Mage in Stormwind had ever seen. She traveled non-stop from Dire Maul to Stormwind, so anxious to show her father this incredible find.

Her father, however, did not share her enthusiasm for the Libram. "Where did you get this?" he questioned his daughter.

"I found it in Dire Maul."

"Dire Maul? Where is that?" He slowly turned the pages of the book, studying the runes that Lien could not decipher.

"It's a ruined city on Kalimdor. It's in the forests of Feralas."

"A ruined city in Feralas? You don't mean Eldre'Thalas?"

"Eldre'Thalas? What is that?"

"It's an ancient Elven city, destroyed many, many generations ago. You found this book there?" The concern in his voice was growing quickly and Lien began to get an uneasy feeling.

"Yes." She replied sheepishly. She felt like she was ten years old again, having to explain to her father why she had used the last of his reagents to practice her spells.

"We must destroy this at once! How could you do this? How could you be so careless? How could you bring this to me?" Her father turned and cast the book into the fireplace behind him.

"No Father, NO!" Lien screamed as she ran to the fireplace to try to save the book. Her father moved between her and the fireplace to stop her, but he didn't need to. Lien froze in disbelief, staring into the flames of the fire. Her father saw the look on her face, and turned to look at what had mesmerized his daughter.

The flames of the fire had turned a sickly green color, and purple smoke was billowing up the chimney. Images of the strange runes written within the book danced in the flames spinning and twirling around the book. An unnatural heat poured off the fire, and Lien could swear she heard voices speaking in an ancient language she didn't understand. It sounded a bit like the language of the Night Elves, but she could speak that, and she did not understand a word of what these voices were saying. And there, in the middle of the intense heat and flame of the fire sat the book, completely unharmed.

Lien's father quickly grabbed a small shovel from beside the fireplace and scooped the book from the flames. He flung the book across the room and it skidded to a stop, purple smoke smoldering from its cover. They looked back at the fireplace. The fire was back to normal. It was barely a few small, orange flames flickering lightly over a couple small pieces of wood.

"Get that book out of my house. Get it out of Stormwind. Put it back where you found it and never speak of this to anyone. Do you hear me? Get rid of it, NOW!"

Lien nervously picked up the book, as if it was still on fire, and placed it in her pack. She held back tears as she ran from her father's study. She left Stormwind for the journey back to Dire Maul to follow her father's instructions. She found some adventurers to help her travel back into the depths of the ruined city, fully intending to rid herself of this strange book. But on the way back to where she found the book they encountered a Night Elf by the name of Lydros.

"What have you got there, young lady?" He pointed to the pack Lien was carrying the book in.

"Nothing." Lien answered uneasily, wondering how he could possibly know the contents of her pack, which she had not opened.

"I beg to differ. I believe you have something. Something of great importance. But you don't know how important, do you? You can't even read it, can you?"

"How do you know these things?"

The Elf let out a small laugh. "Silly girl. You mess with forces you can't even begin to imagine. Do you believe yourself to be powerful? There is more power on one page of that book than there is in your entire body."

"Can you read the book? Can you teach me that power?"

"I can. And I might. But first you must do something for me. Before I can use the magics contained within that book I will need some reagents…"

And so it was, that Lien went from being a powerful Mage to an errand girl for Lydros. She had spent the last three years scouring Azeroth for the list of components he asked for. And now as she rode this gryphon to Feathermoon her journey was nearing its end. Would Lydros even still be in the depths of Dire Maul. Lien was sure he was. She could feel him there. He spoke to her in her dreams, reminding her of the power he would unlock for her. Her father would see. She hadn't made a mistake finding the book. He would see.

* * * * *

The gryphons spread their wings into the wind and slowed as they descended on the Elven outpost of Feathermoon Stronghold. The adventurers climbed off the backs of their mounts, and stretched their stiff and tired legs. It was a long journey from Auberdine, and a long time to spend on the back of an animal with no relief.

Shiner instructed the group to follow as they went to find Scholar Runethorn. She was right where Shiner and Rogar remembered first meeting her. "I see you have returned." the scholar greeted them. "You have the artifacts with you, Yes?"

"No, not yet." Shiner answered. "You didn't think we were going to Dire Maul with just the two of us, did you? These are our guild mates," Shiner motioned at the rest of the party, "and they are going to help us recover these artifacts for you. But we don't work for free. We're not a charity. Will you offer them they same reward that you offered Rogar and me?"

"Indeed…" The Elf surveyed the party in front of her. "It seems you have come prepared for a battle, have you not? Yes, I will compensate you all for your efforts. Though I must say, I would have thought you a bit braver than this. You've assembled enough might to storm the gates of the Undercity!"

"You can never be too careful. Besides, we have other business in Dire Maul aside from your task. It's settled then. You can rest assured that you'll be holding your artifacts in no time."

"Yes. Well I look forward to that day. Good Luck to you, and may Elune bless you all." The adventurers left the Scholar and made their way toward the inn. There was still daylight, but the sun was going down quickly, and the forests of Feralas were no place to travel after dark if it could be avoided. The party all agreed that the best option was to enjoy the comforts of an inn for one more evening. It may be quite a while before they would again. They retired to their rooms to unload their gear and then met down in the common hall to share dinner.

The group ate and laughed as they shared stories of their adventures over the past months since they had all gathered together. The ale flowed, and the more they drank, the more elaborate their tales became. Loderr of course shared his story of how he saved Rogar from certain death at the hands of an Undead rogue in the Barrens. Rogar knew the dwarf wasn't going to let him live that down! Ulfgar entertained them all with his stories of the waves of undead and demons he encountered in his many journeys into the now tormented town of Stratholme. Shauna and Rosefire had been on adventures of their own. Along with Shiner they had been taking frequent trips into the depths of Blackrock Mountain to investigate claims of a dragonkin plot to attack the humans of Stormwind.

Rogar noticed Lien sitting quietly, listening to their stories. She slowly drank the same mug of ale the entire night, and smiled politely at the jokes and stories. He felt a bit sorry for her, the outsider, in this group of close friends. He understood how it was to feel like you didn't belong. "You know," he said leaning toward her, "our guild is always looking for new members. A Mage with your talents would be a welcome addition to the Strike Fighters."

"Thank you." She said sincerely. "I really appreciate the offer. But I've never been much for keeping company. I'm a bit of a loner, I'm afraid."

"That's got to be difficult. But I imagine you're not used to this rough lifestyle we lead. You're obviously more at home in the confines of the Stormwind Mage Quarter than sharing ale with a couple of smelly Dwarfs!"

"Hey!" Loderr pointed a fat, stubby finger at Rogar, "I heard that, ya pompous pile o' plate mail armor. I'd show ya who's the smelly one any day o' the week! You and yer fancy prayers are no match fer my shotgun an' my axe!"

"I'd be more afraid of Ivan than I would you! You're so drunk you couldn't fall out of a boat and hit water!" The table erupted in laughter and the Dwarf turned a bright shade of red in anger and embarrassment.

"Baahh! We'll see who's the wiser when we get ta Dire Maul!"

When the laughter subsided and Loderr had been calmed down, Lien resumed her conversation with Rogar. "So, what gives you that impression?" she asked him.

"What impression?" Rogar asked as he took a swig of ale from his mug.

"That I'm a bookworm. That I spend all my time in study in the Mage Quarter. You don't think I've seen my share of combat?"

"Well, no, I didn't… I mean, it's just that… well what I meant was…" Rogar stumbled over himself, obviously sorry that he had offended the Mage.

"It's okay," Lien smiled. "I was just curious. I'm not upset."

Rogar sighed, and took another drink of his ale. "I just meant that you seem to be a pretty powerful mage. But even the toughest of mages that I've met usually stick with a group. I've never really met one that adventured much by themselves. Even Shauna over there won't go too many places without Rosefire by her side." Rogar motioned to the two of them sitting together at the other end of the table. "I guess I just figured that if you travel alone you don't do a whole lot of it and that you probably spend a lot of time back in Stormwind."

"That's a lot to deduce about a person in such a short time. You sound like you've put a lot of thought into that."

"Me? No. I just… Oh Hell." The Paladin downed the rest of his drink and got up from the table. "I'm tired. I'm turning in for the night."

"HA!" Loderr cried from the other side of the table. "The mighty Paladin can't hold his ale! It makes him sleepy!" The Dwarf fell out of his chair in laughter, and the others joined in. "Another round for the Real MEN!" The Dwarf shouted from the floor as he picked himself up, and the adventurers raised their mugs and cheered in agreement. Ivan quickly lapped up the ale the Dwarf had spilled on the floor.

Lien sat there wondering if perhaps she shouldn't have pushed Rogar's buttons like that. She had a knack for that, a trait she picked up from her father. "Don't worry about him." Rosefire said, sitting down next to her, almost reading her mind. "He'll be fine. He just gets a little moody sometimes. He likes to play the part of the Brooding Paladin."

"Why, what's the matter?"

"Nothing really. I mean, he's lived a pretty tough life, but no more so than any of us, really. We're all outcasts in one way or another, aren't we?" Rose glanced at the motley crew assembled at the table. "I mean, no one in their right mind chooses this kind of life. It just sort of chooses you. All the killing and the danger. Living town to town, sleeping in jungles and swamps and dungeons. It always looks glamorous to the townspeople who live their calm quiet lives. But most people who try it either die on their first quest, or give up and go home. It's definitely not for everyone."

"So why do you do it?"

"Me? Ha! I'm a Paladin. I'm Upholding the Light!" The sarcasm dripped off Rose's words and splashed on the table.

"Seriously."

"Seriously? I guess for Shauna. We started when we were kids just playing around in the woods. She would test her spells on the wolves and boars and I was always there to back her up when things got too hairy. Most of the girls our age were chasing boys, we were beating them up. Of course our parents didn't really approve of what we were doing. So when we got old enough we just left, and we've been together ever since. Luckily we hooked up with Shiner pretty early on and we decided to form the guild. The rest, as they say, is History!"

"That's quite a story." Lien took a small sip from her ale.

"Ya, it is, isn't it. How about you, what's your story?"

A little taken back, Lien paused for a moment. She instinctively reached for the Libram hidden in the folds of her robe. "That is long story for another evening. It is I who is tired now. I think I will retire for the evening." Lien politely excused herself and headed upstairs to her room.

"That one's trouble." Rosefire leaned over and whispered to Ulfgar.

"Aye," the Dwarf grumbled. "I think she's more trouble to Rogar than any of us. I've not seen him like this 'afore she showed up."

"I don't know, Ulf. There's been something wrong with Rogar for a while now. I don't know what it is, but something about the Mage has gotten under his skin."

"Hmmm. We'll have to keep our eye on both of them I think."

The celebration continued into the wee hours of the morning. One by one more of the adventurers took their leave and returned to their rooms. Loderr passed out on the table and slept in a pool of ale.

* * * * *

The priest slowly crept down the stairs of the inn to the main hall where only hours before they had all laughed and shared ale. It was still dark, but it would be dawn very soon. He made his way around the overturned tables and chairs from the party, and headed for the front door of the inn. As he reached the threshold he heard a low growling noise and turned to see Ivan staring him right in the face. Loderr has standing beside the bear with rifle in hand.

"Out for an early mornin' stroll, are ye?"

"Yeah, something like that." Kryme replied.

"With all yer gear slung on yer back?"

"Never can be too prepared." The priest let out an uneasy chuckle.

"Aye." The Dwarf cocked the hammer back on his rifle.

"Look, Loderr," Kryme stammered, "This is a suicide mission. You know it, I know it, and everyone sleeping upstairs knows it. If they all want to die, that's fine. But not me! Remember the last time we went to Dire Maul? It did not end well. There are things in there that can kill you. Permanently. Once your soul's gone that's it. No priest or paladin is going to be rezzing you out of that one. I'm sorry man, but I didn't sign up for that."

"An' how well do ya think we'll be fairing without a Priest, eh?"

"I'm doing you a favor! Without me maybe those fools will come to their senses and call off this ridiculous quest. Let someone else stick their neck out for that crazy Night Elf. Personally, I'm not dying over a bunch of lost artifacts. I mean, how do we even know that this Scholar Runethorn even has any claim to them. For all we know, we're stealing them from the rightful owner for her. We could be doing her dirty work."

Loderr paused for a moment and lowered his rifle. Ivan looked up at him with a puzzled look on his face.

"See," Kryme noticed the Dwarf's reaction as well. "You know I'm right. You're starting to doubt this too. Loderr, you've just been following Rose and Shiner too long, like the rest of us. They're going to get us all killed one of these days."

"Go on, git outta here." Loderr waved his arm at the priest. "Go 'afore I sober up and change my mind. Why I don't put a load o' buckshot in yer backside, I'll ne'r know, you miserable piece o' Murloc dung! We might all be killed, but I'll not desert my friends when they need me. I'll die fighting, right next to 'em."

The priest wasted no time running out of the inn. He headed straight for the hippogryph master, loaded up his gear and flew off. Loderr watched him go as the sun began to rise over the ocean. Finally the priest and his hippogryph disappeared on the horizon, and Loderr walked back into the inn. He sat down at the table and poured himself another ale.