X
She lowered the spyglass, looking on at the rather large fleet of Blood Elf ships lining the horizon. Gilded gold and red, carved gracefully across the bows and up along the main mast. However, she could see the black smoke rise up behind, coming from decorative smoke stacks of gold, glinting in the sun. They shined so brightly it almost made her eyes hurt as the sun reflected upon it. Jaina took in a deep breath and she turned to Pained and Kinndy. The Night Elf stood, her golden glowing eyes burning, her face stone, ready for battle. Kinndy, the gnome, taking a deep breath, and shook her pink, fluffy, pigtails. Beside them was Agent Calia Menethil-Hastings and beside her was her husband Neltharion the Earth-Warder.
Neltharion was watching the ships, his sensitive eyes focusing at their bow.
"Their anchors have been lowered," he said.
"Your eyes are better than my spyglass, Nel," said Jaina.
"Thank you," said Neltharion.
Four days had gone by since Neltharion and Calia warned Jaina of the advancing ships. Four days and they only moved into view, but had not moved since. It was as if they were waiting on something.
Above Theramore were black drakes, Neltharion's own black drakes. Guarding them were Ruthian and Serinar, both in their dragon forms, circling the city. Neltharion thought of his other black dragons who were not here, Siderion and his sister Nameria, his son Sabellian, and his flight in Outland. Though, he made his own decision not to bring them here. Sabellian, due to their now very rough relationship, of course would not answer the call of his father even if Neltharion begged him.
Siderion and Nameria...
Sid was appointed as the new Ambassador for the Black Dragonflight, voice of Neltharion in the Wyrmrest Accord, since Nalice had not returned, but more because Neltharion did not trust her. Now, she had been killed off by some unknown assassin hired by this Black Prince. Nameria stayed with her brother in Northrend. Though she offered herself to a broodmother, Neltharion declined at least for now. He felt she was not old enough to bear his children, yet.
But at least he had Serinar. Serinar, the black dragon who guarded Neltharion's Maw, the cave in the Black Dragonshirne, where many black dragons went to die. It was nestled inside the constantly fuming volcano in Northrend, the only active volcano on the continent. Since Neltharion's return from madness, and in his own grief over the loss of many of his flight, the Earth-Warder's own tears had changed the burnt, aflame, poisonous graveyard into a chasm filled with tall evergreen trees, healing mineral hot springs and geysers shooting spouts of water. Serinar somewhat liked the change, finding the burning landscape as dull. Serinar himself was much like Siderion, in that he was another direct relation to Neltharion himself, this time grandson, where as Sid was a great-great-great grandson. Onyxia was his aunt, though he rarely referred to her as such. Likewise to his Uncle Nefarian.
Serinar rolled through the air, the wind catching Neltharion's beard and blowing it up into his face. Calia held to her light golden brown hair and Jaina brushed a blonde lock away from her eyes.
"How about I just go over there and give those Horde ships a big splash!" said Serinar.
"No big splashes," said Neltharion.
"Oh, really?"
The black dragon spun in the air, pulling the thick, humid moister out into a thin ring of water. The water circled him as he turned towards the ships.
"Just a little dab of ice shards flung towards them," said Serinar. "Pierce their hulls and down they go!"
"We're not going to fight the Horde," said Neltharion. "Only defend Theramore."
"I am half inclined to agree with the black dragon Serinar," said Pained. "We should attempt to engage the Horde ships, Lady Jaina."
"No," said Jaina. "They're still in international waters. We're not here to start a war, we're here to defend our home."
"Garrosh already started it when he attacked Northwatch!" said Calia.
Neltharion rumbled, shaking his head.
"What about the Ashenvale Advance?" asked Pained. "Cutting down trees that do not belong to him!"
"And quite frankly, my Lord Neltharion," began Serinar. "He's pretty much started a war with your dragonflight––as in the rest of us for siding with the Dragonmaw and using our helpless brothers and sisters as his cannon fodder."
Neltharion shut his eyes tightly: "I know what he's done."
"Exactly, Nel!" said Calia. "You want me to take being Prime Consort of your flight so seriously, and yet you're not willing to smash Garrosh for hurting your own kids? At least Varian gave Onyxia's head back, I don't see the Horde doing the same for Nefarian. I'm more than willing to hop on Ruthian's or Serinar's back and fly off to give that thick-brow orc a good taste of my steel!"
"Mama Cali, you can ride on my back any time," said Serinar.
"Thank you."
"I punched my own brother in the face after I found out about what Garrosh used to destroy Northwatch with," said Neltharion. "And I wanted to do the same for Thrall for daring to justify inaction against the Dragonmaw Clan and their enslavement of my children." He bit his black lip. "But I have to––watch what I do. I am going to defend this island, and I'm going to let Garrosh throw the first punch. But when he hits me, I'll hit back––and much harder than he thinks." He looked to Jaina. "Besides, if I had attacked the Horde, it would have given Garrosh more reason to hit Theramore even harder."
"Maybe," said Jaina.
Neltharion looked to the sky as a flash appeared, sparkling blue and purple light. It formed into a gigantic blue dragon with crystalline horns. As the blue dragon dove down, his form vanished. Appearing right beside Jaina Proudmoore was now a blue-haired half-elf with a smile upon his face. Though, he looked more like a blue-haired human with tiny pointed ears sticking out between the locks.
"Kalecgos," said Jaina.
"Well, if it isn't little Kalec," said Serinar.
"Have you figured out where the Focusing Iris is?" asked Neltharion.
"No," said Kalecgos. "I haven't. Garrosh is––he's pretty good at hiding things. However, I've seen the army. It hasn't moved an inch since Northwatch." He turned out over the sea, seeing the purple silhouettes of the ships from Silvermoon. "I take it they haven't moved either?"
"Moved into viewing range," said Jaina. "But that's it. And it'll be another day before the 7th can arrive. Varian has promised me they are moving as fast as they can."
"Maybe I should give them a little push," said Neltharion. "Roll the water underneath to add to their velocity. I'd say put a little wind in their sails, but the Alliance don't use sailing ships anymore."
"All steel, steam-powered dreadnoughts," said Tervosh. "With armor piercing guns. They'll mow right through those Blood Elf ships, no problem." The human mage looked back at the Earth-Warder. "Besides, do you even know where the 7th is?"
"No, but I can easily find out," said Neltharion.
"Another ship," said Pained. "Just behind the Silvermoon ships."
Neltharion's eyes focused upon another group of ships falling in behind the Blood Elf ships, with crimson banners and black, iron spikes decorating the bow.
"Orc ships," he said. "My only guess that Garrosh is waiting for something."
"Waiting––" said Pained. She looked to the Aspect. "Why not attack us now? We don't even have all of the ships from Stormwind. We have two corvettes and one destroyer in the harbor, hardly enough to take on that many ships." She sighed. "Or maybe it's because you're here, Xaxas."
"Titans damn-it, don't call me Xaxas," said Neltharion.
The Night Elf smiled: "I only meant it as a joke, and to state a point. With you here, they're scared. They know you and your dragons are our allies. Maybe, Earth Aspect, you should get up there with your dragons and further put that fear into their hearts. Circle around, and then we'll watch as they all flee from the sight of you."
"Actually, that's not a bad idea," said Calia. "Send those Horde animals packing."
Pained then nodded to Kalecgos: "And the little Spell-Weaver can help you. With two Aspects flying around, they'll know we're not to be trifled with."
"Little?" asked Kalecgos. "Excuse me!"
"Little," she said. "I remember when the Well was destroyed, I saw it happen with my own eyes. Where were you again?"
"I––wasn't even born yet," said Kalecgos.
"Hah!" said Serinar. "Baby Kalecgos."
"Oh, shut it."
"And this is why I call you Young Spell-Weaver," Neltharion. "Even the Night Elf is older than you. And she's a mortal."
"I'm older than most of the people in this city," said Kalecgos.
"Only the humans, Kalec," said Neltharion.
"By the Light," said Calia. "Stop it! Both of you! You two maybe older than me, but I swear, I honestly have to be both your moms to get you two to behave. Now don't make me stick both of your asses in the corner."
Kalecgos' sapphire eyes lit up and he straightened his back: "Yes, ma'am!"
"Yes, love-muffin," said Neltharion, bowing his head.
"Ladies and Gentlemen," began Serinar. "The real leader of the Dragonflights––"
Jaina wagged her head and murmured to herself: "The things I put up with..."
"I will have to admit, honey-bunny," said Calia. "Pained has a point. Maybe you should just circle around the island. Nice little vigil, dragging Little Kalec around with you. It would give them a show. And you are a big scary monster, no matter how drop-dead gorgeous you may look. It's the whole––Deathwing history––thing."
"Why do I have to do it?" asked Kalecgos.
"Because two big scary Aspects is better than one," said Calia.
"I'm not even that scary," he said. "You think anyone's afraid of me? No. He's the big scary dragon people are afraid of."
"Just keep knocking my esteem down a little bit more," said Neltharion.
Serinar whipped the ring of water around him, snapping the tip wetly against Kalecgos' head. Kalecgos yelped, feeling the shock of the chill from the water upon his head and dripping down his shirt. He haunched over, letting the water drip down his sleeves. Serinar chuckled.
"Serinar," said Neltharion.
"Just making him behave himself."
"Thank you," said Neltharion.
"Oh, sure, take his side," said Kalecgos.
Calia turned and slapped Neltharion on the back of his head.
"Hey!"
"Just making sure you behave yourself," she said.
"Yes, mom."
Neltharion turned and climbed upon the wall, spreading his wings.
"Where are you going?" Jaina asked.
"Doing what Pained suggested," he replied. "Flying around to psyche those Horde ships out."
As he kicked off the wall, taking to the air, his body grew to its true size. Ebony black and red wings filled the sky, darkening the glint of the sun. Jaina and the others ducked, feeling the sudden gust of wind from the Great Black's wings as the Aspect to the sky. Alliance banners were knocked from their poles. Calia grunted, looking up.
"Fly higher!" she shouted. "So your big, stupid wings won't knock anyone else down, you dumb klutz!"
"Yes, sugar-muffin!" Neltharion called as he rose higher into the sky, starting his own circling above his drakes.
"Aren't you gonna join him?" Calia asked Kalecgos.
"No, I'm good."
"Lazy," she said with a huff.
"Only because he can't even scare a flea," said Serinar, as he rose hire to follow his lord.
"Well, he's right," said Kalecgos. "I can't."
Calia shook her head, sighing. Jaina looked to Kalecgos and smiled, relieved that he had returned.
"Lady Jaina," said a small voice. She looked down to see Kinndy tug at her robe. "Maybe you could enlist the help of the mages of Dalaran."
"Dalaran," said Jaina.
"Dalaran is supposed to be neutral," said Kalecgos. "It has both Horde and Alliance mages."
"Yes," said Jaina. "Why would they side with us? It would be against their principles."
"Well, we have two Dragon Aspects who are willing to help us," said Kinndy. "And you two are supposed to be neutral."
Kalecgos leaned against the rock wall, crossing his arms: "Some more than others."
"Neltharion is only here to protect the city he calls home," said Jaina.
"Yeah, he's not gonna side with the Alliance if they ask him unless it was just to protect his home," said Calia.
"But he still chooses to be here and protect us," said Kinndy. "So do you, Spell-Weaver Kalecgos."
"Well, I––I mean––" Kalecgos began, looking away. "I––"
"Why are you here?" Calia asked.
"I––like Jaina," he said. "And––I like Theramore––and Theramore has Jaina––and I like Jaina––"
"Nel was right," said Calia. "Jaina, welcome to the club."
Jaina chuckled and placed a hand upon Kalecgos' shoulder: "Thank you for being here."
"What I'm saying that maybe they'll choose to come and help us too," said Kinndy. "No matter what, we all have a choice. And I'm sure many of them don't want to see the bloodshed Garrosh wants. And just because some of them are Horde, it doesn't mean they agree with what Garrosh wants."
"Neltharion keeps reminding me that many members of the Horde really don't agree with Garrosh's plans in starting a new war," said Calia. "He––let me see that not everyone in the Horde is evil––it's just a certain few."
"Finally something of Neltharion is rubbing off on you, Calia," said Jaina. "Instead of the other way around. As much as I love King Varian Wrynn, I don't want a giant black dragon version of him."
Calia rolled her eyes as she smiled with a little sarcasm, and puckering her lips.
Jaina rubbed her arms as she felt a chill of the wind just when Neltharion circled back around.
"They're still not moving!" Neltharion yelled from above.
"Look scarier!" Calia shouted back to him.
Neltharion's wings swept swiftly as he bounded along above and let loose a powerful roar. The mortals below covered their ears from the deafening sound. As he swung around again, he called out.
"Oh, look how scary I am! I'm Deathwing! I'm scary!"
Tervosh looked over to Jaina, cocking an eyebrow.
"How was it that we were so afraid of him?" he asked.
"Because he was destroying the world," said Jaina.
"Ah," he said with a nod. "Right. That." The mage looked back up the Earth-Warder still boasting on how frightening he looked, but seemed more benign. "Yeah, I don't see it."
Calia breathed and groaned.
"I know," she said. "He's laughable."
"I think I shall attempt to call on friends from Dalaran," said Jaina as she leaned down to open up the wooden hatch. "Excuse me. Pained, start taking up soldiers just in case they aren't too fooled by––Neltharion's brave attempt at keeping them at bay."
"Yes, ma'am," said Pained.
"I shall return."
"Good luck with that," said Calia. "I'll keep trying to get my husband to look scarier, even if that's an impossibility." She narrowed her eyes at Pained. "He's the big scary dragon?"
"Well, I thought it would work," said Pained. "Deathwing was scary."
"Deathwing was scary," said Calia as Jaina disappeared down below. She pointed at Neltharion. "That's Nel––he's even less scary than Little Kalec."
"Hey!" said Kalecgos.
"I mean, it's rather pathetic," said Calia. "I think if they leave now, it's only out of pity for his weak attempt."
"I think I'll go and join Jaina," said Kalecgos as he started for the hatch.
Calia's eyebrow cocked up just as he followed behind Jaina and under the floor.
"Of course, I really know why he wants to follow her," she whispered. "Eh, I suppose Kalec is cute too." She took in a deep breath. "They would make a good couple."
"I'm such a scary dragon!" Neltharion bellowed.
"Yes, sweetie, you're big and scary!" said Calia.
"Very scary!"
"Yes, honey," she said.
Pained blinked and Calia smiled.
"Well," the human said. "It'll keep him busy."
Neltharion swooped low again, angling up on the tip of his wing just as he made the turn. He turned, using the tip of his right wing like a fulcrum, and rounding upon that. Calia looked up as he turned, following his motions around and around. Her head spun, her stance wobbled as she followed his flight. Then, she shook herself from the trance and shouted loudly.
"Stop doing that, you're making us dizzy down here!"
"Sorry," her husband called back apologetically. "Just trying to relax my flight. I think I'm getting dizzy up here."
§§§
Four days they had waited since the fall of Northwatch. Garrosh kept himself in the command tent, listening to the chatter from the radio. The scratchy voices on the other line from the Blood and Thunder's communication's officer brought news that made him laugh.
"He's doing what?" Garrosh asked.
"The Earth-Warder is circling the air around Theramore," said the voice on the radio. "It's the fat dragon's attempt of trying to scare us."
"And are you?"
"Not at this distance. He's making no attempt at advancing upon us. However, he's got a lot of his dragons in the air now."
"Keep at that distance," said Garrosh. "Do not engage until I order it."
"Yes, sir. Still, when we do make landfall, we have to not only worry about whatever Alliance vessels the Proudmoore woman has called, but those dragons. This isn't going to be an easy fight."
"I know," said Garrosh. "I know. Just keep your distance. I'm sure your stores are stocked."
"From stem to stern, sir."
"Then, you have enough to wait it out," he said. "Let me know when the Alliance vessels come. And I know they will."
"Yes, sir."
As the radio finally went silent, Garrosh smiled looking towards Malkorok.
"The camps are getting anxious for Alliance blood, Warchief," he said. "They wonder why we wait."
"Then, let them wait, and let them wonder," said Garrosh. "I want everyone of what all Varian can throw at me there. The Earth-Warder there, his dragons there, and anyone else the Proudmoore bitch can summon." He began walking towards his throne covered in furs and lined with wicker and gigantic tusks. He settled upon his seat and grinned. "Make them think they have the advantage. They don't. As for our troops, they move when I say. Anyone who questions that, let me know."
He heard the sound of footsteps coming towards his tent and he paused, his Kor'kron reaching for their weapons. A steely green hand pushed open the tarp and an orc bowed. Garrosh raised a hand and the Kor'kron relaxed.
"Mighty Warchief," he said. "The little bird in Dalaran is tweeting loudly."
"And what song did that bird sing?" Garrosh asked.
"They have called a council at the request of the Proudmoore bitch," she said.
"Tell my songbird to be quiet again," he said. "And sing when the time is right."
"Yes, sir."
As Garrosh grinned again upon his plans, how everything was just coming together, outside the tent, it was not so blissful. They were loyal to the Horde, loyal to the Warchief they followed, however, their patience was wearing thin. Baine Bloodhoof kept hold to the tiny black statue of the Earth-Warder, still riding in his pouch. The entity inside the statue poked out of the pouch to look upon the discontent among the various lit campfires. The entity acted upon its own, as an independent fraction of Neltharion who only sent back information to its master ever so now and then. But it was keeping quiet, keeping to itself. Baine had walked amongst the camps, listening the murmurs and speaking softly with those who questioned this purpose. Finally, he managed to gather a small group all willing to speak freely.
They would find friends amongst them, or at least agreeable allies.
That was closer to what the little avatar of Neltharion wanted.
However, he gathered a silent few who wanted to talk.
Among them was Vol'jin, Chieftain of the Darkspear Trolls, and so far, Baine's only true friend in this. Some of his own Trolls had joined them. Then there was Frandis Farley, one of the Undead Forsaken leaders and a few of his own along with him. There was Kelintir Bloodblade, a Blood Elf, Captain Zixx Grindgear, commanding officer of one of the newly built, experimental steel airships that hovered just above, filling the sky like a black, angular mass and kept aloft by lightning––or as Zixx called it, 'electromagnetism', and powered by coal and steam. The bow and sides of the ship were decorated with spikes and the banner of the Horde emblazoned in red and black upon the flanks. The airship looked more like a giant cruiser that could fly rather than the usual little rickety zeppelins the Horde once had. Ever so now and then, Baine saw a flash of an electrical discharge from the humming, cylindrical pads upon the undercarriage, almost confusing it as a lightning bolt from a storm. This was one of many little projects Garrosh proposed to the Bildgewater Goblins, however, where he got such strange technological advancements remained unknown to the Goblins and to Baine. Zixx had come down from the airship upon a rope latter, followed by his First Mate.
The little statue looked up at the enormous airship, its tiny eyes wide when he realized just what it was he was looking at. There was no way Garrosh nor the Goblins could ever get a hold of technology that advanced in such a short time.
Titan tech, Neltharion thought. That's Titan tech! Garrosh––
Finally there was Marlgolag, representing faithful Eitrigg of Warsong Hold. Yes, even among a few members of the Orcs, there were those who did not agree with Garrosh's methods. These orcs, much like Eitrigg, were grand supporters of Thrall and hoped for his return to finally take back the mantle of Warchief now that the Cataclysm is over. Unfortunately, their prayers had not been answered.
They all sat huddled by the fire under a great tree, and that airship the little avatar Neltharion could not take his eyes off of.
Finally, Baine stood.
"No one here is a traitor to the Horde," he said. "It is possible to be loyal and love the Horde, but question its current wisdom and behavior, especially pertaining to the actions of our Warchief. Though our concerns and voice may sound treasonous to certain ears."
"Namely the Kor'kron," said Vol'jin.
"We figured that," said Zixx. "If you don't mind me pointin', we's down here, where they's can hear us. Why don't we's just get up in the ship and pull the rope? Trust me, Garrosh may have hired us Goblins to build something like that, but we made sure one of those things we forgot to include were some listening bugs."
Get in the ship, Baine, the Tauren leader heard Neltharion's voice inside of his head. Just get in the ship!
"Alright," said Baine. "If anyone who does not wish to follow us up, or hear what any of us have to say, you are free to go. No one will consider you dishonorable for doing so. If you choose this, we will forget your involvement lest we are captured or interrogated."
One Tauren rose up, turned to go, and a couple of Undead also left along with him. The rest remained.
"Alright, everyone, in the ship," said Zixx. "If it's a mutiny we's plannin', then we's better do it somewhere far away."
"Can your crew be trusted?" asked Baine.
"They're gettin' paid time and a half for this," said the Goblin as he began to clime the ladder. "So, they don't care either way."
"I don't know if dhat is a good thing or a bad one," said Vol'jin as they made their way up the ladder.
Coming upon the cargo hold of the ship, it was almost like they stepped into some sort of alien architecture. Lightning continued to zip and zap around the plating that housed the engine. Furnaces burned and glowed with crimson light. The walls, the floors, everything was made out of polished steel, shocking to even Baine. Normally, anything Horde created by goblin engineers were grimy, falling apart, sparking, and hardly considered functioning. Most of the time, those who served on the zeppelins worried if an engine would blow, something would catch on fire, or worse. But this ship, immaculate, polished, and could put any gunship owned by the Alliance to shame.
"If anyone says––oooo look how clean it is––I'm throwing you overboard," said Zixx.
"Why is it so clean?" Baine asked.
"Better to make the connection between conductors," said Zixx. "Less likely of explosion too." The Goblin bowed his head. "We's taking this seriously now. And the last thing I want happen is a ship like this going up in flames along our little march. Considering the boiler in this thing is packin' more explosive power than the volcano of Kezan."
They walked on through the curved corridors and the echoing hum of the engines. Zixx opened up the small meeting room and everyone seated right at the round, steel table. The room was lit by crimson incandescent bulbs protected by steel wire fixtures. Zixx hopped into the head chair, cranking it up so he raise his head above it.
"Alright," he began. "Lieutenant Commander Blar, get the good stuff."
"Yes, sir," said Blar Xyzzik, his First Mate. The Goblin opened up a cabinet and brought out a bottle and a mug, pouring for his captain. He slid the mug over to Zixx, who drank it.
"To calm my scared shitless nerves over here," said the captain. "And believe me, I'm scared shitless."
"I believe Captain Zixx speaks truthfully," said Kelantir, pulling a crimson lock from her brow. "But we have heard what happens to those who speak against Garrosh. Under the guiding hand of Thrall, this sort of thing would never happen! And Thrall would listen to us. It was the reason why my people joined the Horde after the Alliance disregarded our cry for help, our own desperation. And Thrall would never had led us down this path. The Alliance and their Earth-Warder will––"
Baine rose from his seat and placed a decorative, carved stick with an eagle's head atop it and ornate feathers running down the sides upon the table.
"Peace, friend," he said, holding a hand up. "You are right. But Thrall is no longer Warchief. Our purpose here is not to lead an insurrection, but to discuss what he has done up till this point and the wisdom of his choices." He pushed the stick to the center of the table. "This is the Speaking Stick. Who wishes to speak first?"
"I will," said Frandis Farley as he took up the stick. "I shall speak, High Chieftain. I serve the Horde, but does the Horde serve me?"
Neltharion poked his head from the pouch and inclined in to listen intently. It was the same question he posed to Baine.
"I once was human, as many Forsaken were," said Farley. "Before the Plague. My home was in Stormwind once. Now I fear, that which I used to call home may very well bare it's full force down upon me now. There is no doubt that Jaina knows what is coming, she is after all a respected and wise leader."
Baine nodded as many of them did. Although they counted her as an enemy, many of them still had great respect for Lady Jaina Proudmoore. She stood at the side of the Horde when her own father attacked it.
"But here we are," the undead human continued, brushing away his tangled locks, his ghostly yellow-white, glowing eyes downcast. "Gathered. My Lady Sylvanas sent her aid, but to what end? I know what is waiting for us when we march upon Theramore as much as you. We have the numbers, but they have the Earth-Warder. They have Deathwing––and he commands Azeroth itself. And if he so wishes it, that'll be the end of it all. We'll be crushed. I don't look forward in dying a second time."
He paused to hear a small chuckle coming from a Troll behind him, though he forgave the expression.
"Not since the days of the Lich King Arthas have I've been so scared of death," he continued. "And here we are, waiting. Why? What purpose do we wait? It––is simply madness."
Then, Farley laid the stick down upon the table. The Blood Elf Kelintir Bloodblade took it into her hands.
"I agree with Captain Farley," she said. "With or without the help of Stormwind, we are vulnerable. And our lands are just as vulnerable. We attack Theramore, they retaliate, maybe ask the Earth-Warder to send earthquakes to Silvermoon, or to the Undercity. Drown Echo Isles under the sea––all because we decided to march. And while we've gathered, who's to say Varian Wrynn wouldn't take this opportunity to attack Horde lands closer to his home? We've sent our finest west across the Great Sea, by the order of our Warchief, to attack a little island stronghold that has done little to us––and we leave Quel'Thelas open for an attack––or Tristfal Glades open. All this waiting and the Alliance has a chance to gather its forces. If you ask me, we're buying the Alliance time as Garrosh delays."
"Well, I think––" began Blar.
"Wait for the stick, friend," said Baine.
Blar looked to his captain who then nodded. Zixx picked up the stick from Kelintir and then handed it to his first mate.
"Yes, sir," said the lieutenant commander. "Well, here is what I was gonna say. I don't know why he did any of this. None of us Goblins do. Trade Prince Gallywix might see his palace overflowing with cash, but all's I see is Goblins used as cannon fodder. We ain't gonna profit from this."
Zixx reached out for the stick and his first mate handed it to him.
"Sure, we gets these shiny airships," he said. "But to tell you's the truth, I ain't knowin' half of what any of this stuff does. It's all experimental. But I can tell you this, in the process of building these ships with––all this tech from who knows where––a lot of our engineers––they disappeared afterwards. Garrosh is keepin' tabs on everythin'. One of the reasons why I personally made sure from stem to stern, this ship ain't got one of Garrosh's trackin' devices on board, nor any of his ears listenin' on us. Right now, this thing is armed to the teeth. We can blow an Alliance ship out of the water with one shot from the forward gauss cannons––"
Gauss cannons?" asked Farley.
"Magnetic accelerator coil cannon," said Zixx. "All these alien airships got 'em. All of us in the air fleet firin' at once, Stormwind is a crater. But it all ain't addin' to shit if they got the Earth-Warder on their side. He'll rip through this ship as if it was made of tissue paper."
Garrosh built the coil cannon? Neltharion thought. Oh––no––he didn't just build the––everything he hid in Orgrimmar, that's what he's been doing! He built Deathwing's cannon. Wait, Kalecgos' blue dragons. That's what he used to kill them! Tungsten rounds with elementium jackets and the added dark spells to disable their magical shielding––magnetically accelerated through the barrel. And fired from one of these specialized heavy assault aircraft––powered by Titan electromagnetism. Oh, they didn't even feel the prick before they were down on the ground. I'm surprised there was something left for Kalecgos to find considering the kinetic energy each round is packing.
"And that's who I'm scared of," said Zixx. "That's who we should be scared of––and Garrosh making us march on him."
As soon as he was finished, Vol'jin gestured for the stick.
"Thank you, my little green friend," he said. "Well, you all know da trolls be a proud and ancient people. We joined the Horde because of Sen'jin's vision dat Thrall would help us, lead us to safety. And he held true to dhose words. Thrall, he understands da spirits. He be dah first shaman his people seen in a long time. And we too understand da spirits. And I know deep in my heart dhat what Garrosh did wit' his Twilight Hammer shaman, it made dhem angry. And it made dhe Earth-Warder angry too." He paused, holding the stick close. "Deathwing, he angered dhe spirits once. Thrall told me his story. He said the Titans made Neltharion to be the calming force for da spirits. He say dhat when he connected to da heart of the planet, he felt Neltharion in it––and he called upon dhat power twice. Once to kill dat five headed dragon thing dat archbishop created usin' dah blue dragons' mojo. And finally to set da Earth-Warder free. My shaman tell me what dhey see when Neltharion is dhere helpin' da Earthen Ring. Dhey tell me of this connection he has with the planet, dat it move wit' him. Dhey say Azeroth sings again! At first, I didn't want to believe it. But I listened too. And she sings because he no longer crazy. Dah world no longer be in pain. I still didn't want to believe it. But I see it now––I saw it dhen. In Northwatch. I saw it. Garrosh tried to make dhem giant elementals do what he say, but dhey no listen. Neltharion, mon, he make dhem listen because dhey and he––dhey be made from the same stuff, ya know? Dhey be his brothers. And I felt it dhen. I don't want to anger him––because I don't want dhis world kicking me off it all because Garrosh done lost it! And I know dhat is what Neltharion will do to Garrosh and anyone else who obeys him. He gonna make the planet kick dhat idiot in da ass. And because we be obeyin' him, we're as much to blame as he. Thrall said he spoke for da elements, he ain't speakin' as loudly as Neltharion. Now dat the Earth-Warder's is back, Azeroth be listenin' to him. She ain't gonna be listenin' to us. We piss him off, we piss off the planet. And who you think gonna be comin' for da Horde if Garrosh pulls another stunt like that? This isn't about da Alliance comin' for us. It won't be––ever again."
He leaned back, his dark eyes narrowing, his pointed ears twitching.
"Thrall told me he threaten Garrosh once."
"Who?" asked Farley.
"Neltharion," said Vol'jin. "Da first year da evil spirit that was Deathwing––controllin' him. When dat evil spirit left da Aspect, Thrall found him blind drunk right at the gates of Orgrimmar. Garrosh, he no like it, mon. He wanted da dragon gone. But Thrall let him in, said he wouldn't harm anyone. But every time Neltharion hiccuped all because he had too much ta drink, Azeroth hiccuped too, an' da city rocked. So, Garrosh demanded dat Neltharion leave. Da dragon took offense of it and said if Garrosh ever raised his voice at him again––he'd plant a volcano right in the center of the city––right in da middle of da Valley of Strength itself. And Orgrimmar still hangs his son's head on da gate. If dhere one thing I be respectin' da dragon for, it's his devotion to family. He don't want any of his kids corpses be used for decorations. Neither would I if in it were mah kids hangin' there. And if da Horde pushes on Neltharion enough, he might just do that. Orgrimmar won't even be dhere when we return––and dhat is if we return. I'm not afraid of da Earth-Warder, I'm afraid that Garrosh will just make a mistake we all may have to pay. And da Earth-Warder, he come collectin'."
They all murmured with agreement, nodding their heads and speaking silently to themselves about what he said. Vol'jin's words wrung deep in Neltharion especially, who listened to him. Though, he chose not to speak, still tucked away, hidden in the pouch.
It is only Garrosh I have problems with, he thought. Only Garrosh. But––I can't prevent these innocents from being hurt if it comes to that confrontation. But I must. I have to. I won't punish the Horde over the actions of their Warchief.
As they all began their climb down the rope ladder, they spied the glint of metal and the sneer of Garrosh Hellscream waiting for them at the bottom. Each one of them drew their weapons, save for Baine.
"No!" he called. "Lower your weapons. Lay them down now!"
"I cannot believe it," said Garrosh as he strode forward towards the group. "I had word of this meeting."
Behind him, hiding as if to use Garrosh as a shield was one of Zixx's crewmen. The captain snorted.
"And I heard you stripped your ship bare of its tags?" said Garrosh, looking to the airship captain.
"What I do in my off time is none of your business," said Zixx.
"It is my business!" the warchief roared. "It all is my business. Even this ruse!" He looked to Baine. "I wanted to know if what Malkorok said was true. So, I came to observe."
"No one here was chanting 'Death to Garrosh'," said Baine. "What we had a meeting about was out of concern for the Horde, which we all belong to."
"To question the Horde's warchief is to question the will of the Horde!" said Malkorok.
"And two plus two equals five in your mind as well," said Baine. "But our concerns are valid, Warchief. We all attempted an audience, which you denied each time. Everything we said in the ship, we would bring to you personally as well. We have no reason to hide any of it. But the only reason why we met in secret is because you would not see us."
"I don't need to answer to you, Tauren," said Garrosh. "Nor you, Troll." He turned to Vo'jin and spat. "You are not my keepers, nor are you my masters to make me dance for your entertainment. You will serve the Horde as I command. And when I tell you to march, you march, and if I tell you to wait, you wait! And you will continue to obey and wait until the time is right."
"Thrall would have seen us," said one of Baine's Tauren, another close friend––Hammuul. "And he would have welcomed advice when it was of sound mind. And he didn't keep his methods in the dark either. What he did, he did for all of us and shared it with us equally because we all matter. Because we are the Horde, not just one single being."
Garrosh puffed his chest out and pointed to his brown, tattooed face.
"Does this look like the green skin of Thrall?" he asked. Neltharion noted the tone. Saying 'green skin' almost sounded to him like how Varian would refer to the orcs––those green skins––a racial slur. But Garrosh was not green, he was brown, he was brown because he was a pure orc, unlike Thrall and many others who had the green skin, marking the demon blood that once tainted their veins. It almost seemed like Garrosh found having green skin to be an insult to his––purity. The tiny dragon statue sank lower in Baine's pouch.
"No, Warchief," said Hamuul. "No one would ever mistake you to be Thrall."
"It is truly amazing how some of you still have some love for that peace-keeping shaman," said Garrosh. "You would all do well to remember it because it is due to Thrall that we are in this position. It was Thrall who allowed the Alliance to even have that damned hold in the first place. Thrall who held secret meetings with Jaina Proudmoore and the human mage and bowed to her feet like a lap dog. And Thrall who––saw fit to allow that damned dragon to live where he could have killed him!"
"Thrall stated that without the Earth-Warder or any of the other Aspects, our world would be in worse shape than it is now," said Baine.
"And you believed him?" Garrosh asked. "He played pussy with beasts! He allowed Deathwing to live, and allowed the Alliance to have him! I know of your fears for marching on Theramore now, because Deathwing is there and Deathwing will crush us. But it is because of Thrall that he is there at all. I aim to correct the mistakes made by Thrall and secure our future here." He held tightly to Gorehowl. "I will undo the treachery Thrall has done and destroy that little stronghold and it be not Thrall's feet Deathwing will lick––but mine!"
"Warchief––" said Bloodblade, only to be silenced with a swift backhand from Garrosh.
He struck her down, an angry sneer rolled across his lips as she toppled over, her red hair in a mess. The mass started, about to pick their weapons back up and the Kor'kron surged forth against them. Garrosh held his hand up.
"Your Warchief is merciful," he said, his face becoming calm. "You live so that you may obey me, Blood Elf."
Bloodblade nodded slowly, grunting as she lifted to her elbows.
"Yes, I am indeed merciful," Garrosh continued, looking upon Baine and Vol'jin with cold, gold eyes. "In your own fashion, Baine, your are right. Your concern is for the Horde. I cannot be your leader and not value that, even if your ways could be viewed as treasonous by a lesser leader. I need you––all of you. We work together if we are to survive, if the Horde is to survive. We do this for the glory of the Horde itself! When the time is right, trust me, you will find no end of Alliance scum to slaughter. You will all bathe in their blood, I promise yo. Now, return to your camps––and await your Warchief's order."
Baine, Vol'jin, and the others who stood with them bowed as Garrosh passed and his Kor'kron followed behind him. Then, Baine breathed a sigh of relief. He was thankful that word had not reached Garrosh's ears of Kador's mission or that a tiny portion of Neltharion's own spirit was sealed in the statue he carried. He wanted to show Vol'jin then that he had the statue, that he was ready to get them to speak, but now proved not to be the time. Now was dangerous. If Garrosh knew about the meeting, he would know that Neltharion was watching them if Baine showed him the statue. Though, each time he had to prostrate before the Warchief, Baine felt a bit of himself soiled. He bid the others goodnight as he returned to his own tent and calmed himself before the scent of sage incense burning. The Tauren pulled the statue out and it came to life lowering his head.
"I can't let you see Vol'jin, Worldmender," he said. "It's too dangerous now."
"I had a feeling," said Neltharion. "Oh, one word, Garrosh is lying through his teeth. He didn't mean a single word. You are here because for now you have your uses. When he's done with you––"
"I am well aware," said Baine. "I am well aware. I could hear it in his voice. I'm not that dense."
"Funny, I have to keep reminding people that myself," said Neltharion. "I keep my promise, I shall not share with anyone what I have seen today––even after seeing the interior of that airship."
Baine's head tilted as he looked upon the living statue with confusion. Neltharion sighed and wagged his head.
"I am afraid that ship was built upon Titan technology," he said. "Technology Garrosh must have taken when the Twilight Hammers returned to the Horde. To continue our mutual truce, I shall share with you what I have heard. The Focusing Iris has been stolen and Garrosh was the one who took it. I have no doubt he has sent a ship like the one you held your meeting in after the blue dragons who were ordered to move the Iris to a different location. The weapons on that ship are powered by electromagnetism, the ammunition, tungsten with an elementium jacket and fired at sonic speeds. They are capable of piercing even the hides of dragons."
"And Garrosh has this Focusing Iris?" asked Baine.
"Yes, it was created by my brother Malygos as a means to entrap all magical energies on Azeroth, control it and prevent mages from using it for selfish purposes," said Neltharion. "That device was the reason behind the Nexus War."
"I see," said Baine. "And Garrosh wants to use it as a weapon."
"He could be building one, or it's already built and he intends to use it," said Neltharion. "I'm afraid that both using Titan technology and the Focusing Iris will not be good for either side, Baine. It will harm both. And as Vol'jin said, the world will be looking at the Horde. The world won't see what I see. I see Garrosh as the problem, but will Varian and the others see that?"
"No."
"I am trying to make sure that both innocents in this are spared, Baine," said Neltharion. "Whether Horde or Alliance. But now, Garrosh is going to make things even more difficult. Maybe I can start by saying if I decide not to attack any Tauren or Troll that are loyal to you and Vol'jin, would you not attack any of the Dustwallow Marsh Dragons?"
"I can't promise..." Baine said.
"I will try my best," said Neltharion. "I know I can't promise that either, but I will try my best."
"Then, I shall try my best too," said Baine. "And I'll ask the same for Vol'jin. I can't guarantee his agreement in this."
"I know," said Neltharion. He tilted his head with a smile. "It's worth the shot, isn't it? It has to start somewhere."
"It has to start somewhere," said Baine, nodding.