Author Note: Sorry its taken me so long to update lately. Work has been...worky lately. I've also been working on the reboot to my original novel: "The Red Thread Tapestry" which will be posted on . I'll post a link to it when there's more content. But don't worry, Straydog Saga and Imajin That! Take priority (since, well, lets be honest. Rarely do fans of fan fic writers or machinima artists get any kudos for their original stuff...poor Ian Beckman.) Anyway, enjoy the update and stay tuned for the link to "The Red Thread Tapestry."

Straydog Saga

Flea 38: The Edge of Glory

All was silent at Setharion's bedside. Orifiel knelt beside his bed with her head buried in his arm and her grip on his unmoving hand. Terronian sat beside his mother, arm around her shoulder in an attempt at comfort. Steve stood by the window, grin wiped from his tusked face as arcane leaves whimsically fluttered by, seemingly oblivious to their co-creator's strife. The twin High Mystics did their best to employ their own talents to aide in Setharion's healing but the root and branch magic seemed to work slowly, if at all. The best draconic healing seemed to have no affect on his painfully slumbering mind as the violet corruption Setharion had resisted all his life was finally, corrosively coursing trough him.

The sound of shuffling and angry demands met Orifiel's ears, but she did not lift her head to see Sabellian enter the room. His eyes seemed to choke on the sight of his fallen, sickened brother. Some of the other dragons present stood there, agape, at the strange, familial hurt they rarely saw from the black-scaled dragons as Sabellian moved to his brother's opposite side.

"It is true…" Sabellian sighed as he looked to his brother's wounds with a grimly sick feeling in his throat. The smell of corruption reeked from Setharion's mortal-formed pores so strongly that Sabellian nearly recoiled at the stench. "The Twilights did this, there is no mistaking that smell. Dear brother…"

"Then it seems our efforts in Northrend were for naught," another male's voice softly sighed. Romulus stood beside his mother, the dragonqueen, and watched the scene as far from the tainted dragon as the space would allow. Alexstrasza shook her head at her child's words and took a few steps forward, stopping a few paces away form the heart-broken priestess.

"Not for naught, but it seems, our success in ridding Wyrmrest of its enemies was grossly exaggerated," Alexstrasza softly spoke, closing her eyes and lowering her head for a moment before looking up to see another aspect and his entourage boldly rush into the room.

"Dragonqueen, ambassadors," Kalecgos quickly spoke with as polite a nod as his rushed state would allow, "we've managed to drive off the remainder of the Twilight dragons into their boroughs- for now. H-How is he?"

"I don't see how that's any concern of yours," Sabellian sneered to the aspect of magic with little fear in his defiant eyes. Kalecgos found his cheeks flush for a moment, but unlike his former youthful self, he kept his instinctual retort from spewing forward. He coughed for a moment before responding.

"In any regard, I fear the infestation may run deeper than we could have imagined. We have spies and heroes scouting the catacombs as we speak. Hopefully, they will get back to us soon with the full extent of things," Kalecgos sighed.

"While it is prudent to know what we're getting into, we simply don't have time to waste on perfect logistics. The Twilights have attacked this place and now the Argent Tournament. They're exposed, and they could mount a massive attack soon; and if we're not mobilized to meet it…" Chromie shivered, prompting his young ward, Briyedormi, to place a hand on his tiny shoulder.

"Well, we certainly don't want to go in blind…" Romulus commented, crossing his arms and glancing to the single orc in their draconic meeting.

"B-But we can't be too slow either. T-The time to act is now," Briyedormi softly asserted, glancing to Setharion's bed with a light twinge of sadness. Slowly, the room where the injured Setharion lay erupted in a cacophony of controlled disagreement. It was then Orifiel gently patted her mate's hand and slowly stood. Terronian looked to his mother with a hint of fear in his gaze at the white-hot anger in her eyes. She kept her gaze on her battered mate as she spoke without her usual priestly reverence.

"SILIENCE! Do you have no decency at all? To argue in my mate's own chamber while he lies dying?" The room went silent. "You all can do as you like. Mydrassil, in cooperation with the Silver Covenant, Sunreavers, and Knights of Archerus will conduct our own assault while you all prattle on endlessly," Orifiel looked to Hanariel and Keesha, who seemed to already be aware of Orifiel's plan. They nodded in support as Trenton watched his mother rage with a fury he never thought her capable.

"L-Lady Whitedeer, what do you-" Romulus cautiously spoke as he was cut off by Kalecgos.

"You will do no such thing. We're already mobilizing an effort to-"

"To what? Go on endlessly back and forth and wait around forever for the other races to clean up a dragon-mess? And what a WONDERFUL track record you have, too! Was it Dragonkind who killed the Lich King? No! Illidan? No! The Aspect of Death? NO! In fact, as I recall, the blue flight was at war with the red while the scourge tore the world apart. You all were more than willing to put me, my mate, and the mortals here in harm's way, and NOW you talk about careful planning, of PRUDENCE? Fuck you and the wings you rode in on, the lot of you," Orifiel hissed, sending looks of shock, disbelief, and a myriad of indignant looks to the dragons' faces. Despite the insult, the room was starkly silent. Orifiel looked to her gaping son, then to the stunned-faced yet slightly smiling Steve, which made the orc slightly straighten in her sight.

"Steve, please come with me. Terronian…stay if with him if that is what you want. I will see to it that he's avenged as his mate, but that's not your responsibility." She paused and looked to Sabellian who knelt unwavering at his brother's bedside. "Lord Sablemane, please watch over him," Orifiel sighed as she found both a death night and her vengeance-ready son at her side.

"Lady Whitedeer, please. I need not say it, but Lord Nightgaze may not have much time left…he needs you by his side. Let us handle this," Alexstrasza called with sad experience in her eyes. Her own firm grip met Orifiel's defiant wrist.

She had lost so many consorts over the millennia, many of whom she could not console or even bid goodbye in their final moments. But the look she received from the night elf- formed dragon in her grasp nearly chilled the constant inner fire within. Orifiel wrenched her hand free and led her charge from the room. Though her face seemed to be filled with nothing but staunch determination, a small quiver in her wet eyes displayed the biting wave of sorrow as the three began preparing for their assault.

Maiev looked to the night sky with dim eyes. The stars had not changed much since the days of her childhood; and yet the scars-both seen and unseen-obscured their unfaltering shine as the sea wind whipped around her form. The tall branch she stood upon glowed with arcane brilliance, but somehow, was paled by the midnight majesty.

Though the tattered garb she wore since Illidan's demise was replaced by finely-crafted Shepherd plate, forged by gushing younglings with her hero's name on their ears, the burdens of her shattered mind threatened to crumple the elder from within. She had done much in the struggle to remain stalwart in her Watcher persona, solving crimes and battling evil whenever it showed itself in her judging vision.

But the specter's hold, only a tendril at first, rooted within and broke apart the sturdy frame and iron-fisted resolve like a thirsty willow-root. Despite the damage to her being, her senses were as nimble as they were when she still had violet tresses. The druid behind her, though as silent as death in his steps, approached with clumsy loudness in her perked ears.

"There's not need for that Furion. You were never a good shadow-walker," Maiev flatly spoke as she turned to meet Malfurion's amused face. He smiled, closed his golden eyes, and shook his head with a sigh.

"All the shadows in the world couldn't hide my steps from you, huntress."

"What is it you want?" Maiev asked as she turned away to continue her contemplative vigil of the stars. Malfurion straightened his garments a moment before gathering his words and ordering them behind his purple lips.

"Lady Whitedeer and Lord Nightgaze returned from Northrend…I'm afraid it's much worse than we thought. The Twilight influence has not only remained in Dragonblight, but a whole underground clutch was discovered in Icecrown. Lord Nightgaze…" Malfurion paused and lowered his head. "We may need to prepare a funeral pyre."

"Get to the point," Maiev curtly spoke with a spike in her voice's volume.

"Lady Whitedeer is preparing a force, an army to delve into the underground and fight the Twilight dragons and Dream knows what else. I…shall not be joining them."

"So why are you telling me all this, then?"

"I respectfully request you do the same," Malfurion spoke with a tone that made Maiev turn to face him once more, white brow raised.

"I had no intention of traveling there; but please, do explain why you think you have the authority to dictate my movements," Maiev slightly growled and crossed her arms as Malfurion looked to her with a pleading expression.

"You know that is not what I wish to do-"

"Then do not insult my intelligence with your friendly mockery. Get to the damn point or do not waste my time-"

"Maiev, you're corrupted!" Malfurion finally blurted. The action seemed to knock the wind out of them both. Maiev's expression shifted from shock of disbelief at the claim. She began to shake her when Malfurion began his explanation. "Something has warped your mind, dug into your spirit. I fear…we don't know what's down there, Maiev, and our people have already lost so many of our heroes to damnation. I have seen the manifest of your illness, and I know you are on the edge of loosing yourself too. Please, you can be helped."

"Oh, and so the great Furion Stormrage is going to fix me, then? How generous and self-sacrificing, helping the ones you detest," Maiev sneered as she swiftly glided past her old acquaintance, bumping him roughly on the shoulder.

"No, I will not. But he will," Malfurion firmly spoke, causing Maiev to pause, wide-eyed as her feet stuck fast to their current spot. She turned with a murderous look glazed with the hint of shock and horror.

"You didn't."

"He came as fast as he could after he received my letter-" Malfurion found his words choked by a gauntlet-vice on his throat. He only took one step back, as the grip only tightened for a moment before going lax to a superficial grip.

"How DARE you? You presumptuous, pompous fool! Do you know what you've done?"

"Sister…" a voice softly but firmly called. The sound was like a knife in the former watcher's back. She slowly turned to see the aged face of her younger brother mournfully and gratefully staring at her. "That's enough," Jarod Shadowsong spoke as he took a step towards his mind-ravaged sister. Maiev felt her blood freeze as the stern-faced man, once a youngster in her sight, moved to stand with them in the shining night.

His keen vision easily overlooked the shadows that seemed to pulse through her form. The snide whispers of a foul specter met his ears but not his hearing. His silver vision brightened in her own dim sight. There was nothing but silence, save for the arcane wind before the leader of armies spoke.

"It has been far too long sister. You have much to scold me about."

Shandori felt the warm embrace of her frothy friend, who she so groggily referred to as "Mr. Booze" in the dwarven-owned pub where her drinking stein never seemed to run dry. She would occasionally blather about some crass gibberish that seemed as refined as a crystal goblet in her inebriated mind.

Christoffel sat to her right, exerting only a small margin more self-control as a faint blush started streaking across his cheeks. F-bomb shook her head with a crooked smile as the green-apple martini in her rough fingers seemed to grow light. Lumigosa sat in the next space, arms crossed and foot impatiently tapping at the strange and undignified display before her. Ima simply sighed and moved her empty water up towards the center of the table.

"You three…" Ima sighed as Christoffel hiccupped slightly following the action with a loud belch, causing Shandori and F-bomb to burst out laughing as if it were the funniest quip known to mortal kind. Though he excused himself as soon as capable, none of the most eloquent of words could excuse the action in the mind of the twitching, elf-bodied dragon.

"They are impossible! I cannot believe lady Kat left me in charge of these, these-AUGH!" Lumi hissed as she resisted every instinct to storm out of the recently rebuilt but still homey pub.

"Calm down, Miss Lumi. I mean…you sort of get used to it after a while," Ima sighed as F-Bomb called in a loud, obnoxious tone for another martini.

"Well, what are we going to do about Northrend?"

"Yes, I was hoping to discuss that with the others but…" Ima paused as Shandori began trying to make the dinner napkin in front of her into a flying device, "Yeah, that's not happening. What have you heard from your aspect, Lumi?"

"It's absolutely appalling. Lady Whitedeer said some…terrible things to Lord Kalecgos," Lumi shuddered, "Anyway, there seems to be two efforts forming, one among the dragonflights and one among the mortals."

"That doesn't make sense, mortals and dragons have always worked together in the past…or so I've read. Why is everything so disjointed now?" Ima blushed a little at her evident inexperience in Azeroth's major conflicts.

"I don't know… If what the others say about Lady Whitedeer's outburst is true…where does that leave us? I know 'lady' Shandori here is bound to the red flight and in their service and you, Lady Ation, are Lord Redmane's ward and all. But if we're not working together…I don't know," Lumi sighed with a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. It was then Shandori attempted to claim the conversation by banging her half-full stein on the table like a gavel. Beer sloshed onto the blood elf beside her, but he didn't seem to notice the ale-shower in his own state.

"ORDER…or-dur. Kay see, s'bout dis: we are gunna fight da thingsh that pay the-who pay us-gold. Best the gold! Haahaa kay? Dash how we gun do eet!" Shandori shouted as if that would make her words all the more clear. Lumi and Ima shook their heads from the sound before casting the night elf an incredulous look. It was then a shadow fell onto the table from the nearby entrance way.

"Sounds perfectly logical to me," the dark-haired human shrugged as he approached. Lumi cast the familiar form of Trenton a questioning look as he raised his finger briefly to his lips for her silence. He walked in between Shandori and Christoffel and rested his hands on the backs of their chairs. "I couldn't help overhearing. Are you all looking to join in an effort to kill some twilights, save the word, be brave heroes, and get chicks?" Trenton smiled.

"Gah, all buah t'lasht part. I dun swig dah way," Shandori shrugged as one of the barmaids brought her a new ale.

"What da he'lls the point of nearly getting killed if not ta get checks, err chicksh? I mean I became a pally back in da day ta get chickhs," Christoffel offered as he held up his stein before taking a drink.

"Waiiitda min-it…you joined a celibate ordah…ta get chicks?" F-bomb groggily asked with a raised brow. Trenton cut off Christoffel's mumbling answer as he continued his spiel.

"That'a boy. The name's Trenton and I work for Lady Whitedeer's initiative. We're looking to head out within the next two days, if you're interested in joining us. We need every able-bodied volunteer, Shepherd, or merc we can get," Trenton informed, speaking so that anyone within the pub who still bore the attention span to listen could hear and conjuring several fliers from inside his robe sleeves. Though the smaller print was fuzzy in Shandori's vision, the largely printed "1000 gold" retainer payout sparked in her foggy mind.

"Lady Shandori has an obligation to the dragonflights as do I, Terro-" Lumi felt her voice slashed from her throat by Trenton's glare. Though his eyes did not make the blue quite shudder with fright, he seemed to be his father's son. He coolly smiled and shook his head.

"Lumi, Lumi, Lumi…you're missing a golden opportunity here."

"I-I don't see how. I heard about what Lady Whitedeer said to Lord Kalecgos..."

"Yeah, boils you're blood doesn't it? It's because you're loyal to your aspect, right? You want to be his prime consort someday right?"

"Of course!" Lumi shouted a little louder than she intended. She slightly blushed and covered her mouth with a hand before nodding.

"Well, what better way than to prove your resilience and heroism than to go rogue in the name of justice and what not? You know guys find rebellious girls really fetching," Trenton slyly smiled.

"R-Really? No! It's a trick; you're just trying to get me to join Lady Whitedeer's madness. I will do no such thing," Lumi huffed and turned her nose up at the prospect. Trenton shook his head.

"Yeah, waita minoot. Lasht time we tooka job like dish, we ended up wirkin for a black dragun." Shandori squinted and turned her suspicious gaze to the even-tempered Trenton. He gave her a friendly but semi-scolding look.

"Miss, come now. Do I look like a black dragon to you?" Trenton asked with unblinking innocence in his deep-brown eyes.

"Nuh-no?"

"Of course I don't. Listen, there really isn't any pressure on any of you. If you want to help in the good fight, be at the south dock at sunset two days from today. We'll get you registered and everything then," Trenton spoke as he began placing flyers on ever table and clear counter space in the pub. Lumi watched with indignation and disapproval as the young dragon mage began to make his way to the exit. She pushed her chair back and stood.

"Please keep an eye on them, Lady Ation; I'll be back in a moment," Lumi respectfully asked as she left after the determined youth.

"Terronian, wait!" she called, nearly crashing into him as he abruptly stopped walking. He did not turn to face her as he asked what it was she wanted. Lumi paused for a moment, shaking her head and clearing her throat to speak.

"Why are you doing all this? We should be working together against the Twilights. What does your mother hope to accomplish by all this?" Lumi's words were met with silence for a moment as a bitter chuckle came from Trenton's smiling lips. He slowly turned to face her with pain, anger, and a smoldering hatred behind his usually tepid eyes.

"My mother slaved, worked, and accomplished all that those idiots wanted her to. We've done what they couldn't because they were too afraid of corruption or getting their claws dirty, and yet my parents fearlessly did what whole dragonflights couldn't. They constantly spit on us and yet expect us to be loyal lapdogs? I wasn't raised a dragon, Lumi, and it's always bothered me until now. I begged my father to let me join the new black dragonflight, and he would have let me try…but you know what? I don't want to join their little club. Now I know why my mother insisted I be raised as a mortal: dragons are retarded. Mortals, with all their weaknesses and flaws are going to win this thing, just like they always do," Terronian forcefully insisted as if trying to assure himself that his confidence was rightfully placed.

The few mortals that dwelled around the pub cheered, some even clapped at Terronian's words as his eyes went wide. He cursed for being so careless, but his rant did earn him a few more interested parties for his mother's ambitious plot. Lumi's eyes softened for a moment as she looked away.

"I-I did not know you were raised as a mortal…h-how could your parents be that cruel to deny you your heritage like that?" Lumi's quivering voice seemed to quell the heat in Terronian's chest as he let out a steamy sigh.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm a real sob story," Terronian paused to distribute a few more fliers to encouraging mortals, "But the black dragonflight would never accept a 'mongrel' like me anyway. Roxanne made that VERY clear," Terronian growled as he thought of his momentary tryst with the human-disguised black dragoness "Roxia" ending in harsh words and a permanent black-listing from the flight. "So I say screw them. After all this is done I'm changing my mortal form to Draenei, and I'll be getting me some tail of a different sort," Terronian grinned wide as fanciful thoughts of draenei dancing girls glided through his slippery mind. Lumi cast him a disturbed look and shook her head.

"If you say so," she cringed as thoughts of mating with mortals pierced her iron resolve, "I can't imagine spending a huge amount of time with them, let alone mating with them. Anyway, I-I'm sorry about what happened. I do want to help you, but Lord Kalecgos…"

"Doesn't need to know. Does that male honestly keep tabs on all his little ladies? If you get caught, just say the evil half-black dragon put a spell on you with his charm and devilishly handsome smile," Terronian grinned.

"I doubt anyone would believe that and you know it."

"H-Harsh!" Terronian feigned an arrow to the heart as the pair found smiles spreading across their faces. "Please think about it, ok?"

"I-I can make no promises, but I will leave that decision to the mortals. If my ward decides to follow your mother, then it would be my duty to join her and see that she is not harmed," Lumi reasoned. Terronian smiled through the haughty blue's softer tone as time drew ever closer to the reckoning in Northrend.