Holy crap.

Just…ugh.

Everyone is upset and for a while, I wasn't sure if we'd even end up coming out here to this frozen hell.

Let me back up.

After the meeting, we all headed to get our things and then meet back up at the roof, so that we could bring our mounts with us through the portal they were gonna make. I wanted to talk to Brath, right? But I also wanted to make sure that I was in on the mission. I mean, I don't know why, since I'm not the most seasoned person out there, but I just felt like it was something I needed to do. Maybe as an apology for having such an evil brother, maybe just as a way to know that this is really happening.

I don't know. I'm not psychiatrist or psychologist or anything. I just…I had to go.

And I figured that Brath would be going, too, since he did promise he'd help me. So I grabbed what little I might need and hurried upstairs. To hell with being angry or vengeful, I just wanted to know what was going on and why the heck he was avoiding me.

I saw him alright, but he was circling the roof in his dragon form, pretending he was out of range to hearing me call, when I'm pretty sure he could hear me.

Well, I was all set on pouting until he came down, when I noticed Nicolas and Derres. Of course they'd be the only other ones set to go already. I went over to give them a piece of my mind, since it seemed like a perfect stress outlet had been offered to me, but instead of buckling down and taking the bitchfest like men, Derres was all smiley.

"There is our little diplomat. You really smoothed things over with Wrathion."

I was on a mission. I was, really. And I started with, "Don't even, for a second, think that flattery will get you anywhere!"

And somehow it didn't turn into a yelling match. Yes, I was still grumbly, but they apologized. I guess on their trip to the north, they had a real heart to heart with Brath—which from the sounds, was akin to torture in my dragon's mind—and they decided that he wasn't just pretending to not be evil anymore, but was actually, honestly, not. While neither of them could manage to say that he was good—I'm not sure I could even say that—they had to admit that he wasn't bad either.

Like seriously. I was super surprised and a little skeptical, but unless they're both sociopaths like Greg, they meant it.

Grrr…that actually leads into what happened next. And part why I, at least, am so pissed off.

While they'd been apologizing and Brath had been flying a bit lower, though still maintaining his act that he couldn't hear us—he so could—Derres' lady dragon friend had come over and I guess after my apparent performance for the dragons, she assumed that I was as wily and cunning as Nicolas and Derres. Oh, she's from the blue flight, by the way.

Well, we're sort of getting to the friendly point, with her twittering little voice as a constant prompt to keep the conversation going, when an awkward silence settles over us. Like, the two or three previous ones, she picked a topic and went off. Except, well, this topic involved a few assumptions on her part, the main one being that I had been in the know.

"You know, Miss Ford, I think that you are quite brave." I tried not to let my anger from recent events mar my 'thank you'. She went on. "I'm serious. I mean, it must have been so hard finding out what a monster your brother was…and then to pretend not to know so that he'd believe his escape wasn't prearranged… It is fortunate that he was so arrogant in his own abilities. After all, it was through tracking him that we found their…main…base…"

I'm pretty sure she'd finished trailing off by the time my eye twitched. I mean, I'd figured that it had been some sort of plan. I had. But still…to have it confirmed…and to know that they hadn't even had the balls to tell me themselves.

Let's just say I finally got my stress outlet.

I punched Nicolas. That's right. I punched him right in the jaw. And I actually hit him. I mean, maybe he was just letting me do it, since he is more experienced with dodging attacks and stuff, but whatever. I took the victory.

And, you know, tried to pretend my fist wasn't hurting as much as it was from the impact.

As I turned away in disgust, I saw Eric had come up and he looked really surprised. And then, slowly, ever so slowly, this grin spread across his lips and he trotted over to us. He held his hand up and it took me a moment to realize that one of my world's mages must have taught him a bit about our culture. His smile was on the verge of slipping when it dawned on me and I gave him a high five.

His grin came back and he tussled my hair and glared at Nicolas. However, before any of us could say anything, suddenly I found myself scooted back a few steps with an arm around my shoulders and a broad hand was holding Eric in place by his face.

Brath had finally decided to be social, apparently. By making sure Eric understood I was taken. Which was sort of a douche thing to do, since I was beginning to wonder if I was actually in a relationship myself.

He growled at Eric as he lowered his hand, his other arm still around me. "We are monogamous."

I have to say, I probably would have laughed if I wasn't so pissed off. I mean, seriously? That's the first thing he says in weeks and it's not even actually to me, but instead claiming me?

Just…what?

I pinched his side and his gaze snapped toward me, indignant and brooding.

"I'm so mad at you right now," I muttered.

We might have broken out into some stupid lover's quarrel, if not for what happened next. More people had been showing up in threes and fours and pretty much the whole group had assembled when another argument started up that made my bad mood look like a child's temper tantrum—which it debatably could have been, but meh.

Brath was trying to argue that I had no right to be angry when he'd done nothing wrong—apparently his traveling without me was so I wouldn't be worrying over whether my lover or brother would emerge victorious in any chance encounters, though I guess they hadn't gotten close enough to 'neutralize' Greg.

He was about halfway through his sentence when this gnomish mage came up the stairs to the roof where we were waiting. The gnome was already ranting as he came up, but the first thing he said that I could make out was, "…Monsters! All of you!"

Kelveris—who had come up at some point, though I couldn't tell you when—intercepted him first, even as half the people on the roof moved toward the gnome, trying to figure just what he was going on about.

This is a little off topic, but Kelveris is Nicolas' guild's leader. Have I ever mentioned that before? Well, he is. And he's really, really good with people. I mean, his smile can make anyone feel more comfortable. Some dude from the pentagon would probably be rattling off state secrets without even realizing he was doing it, if Kelveris gave him one of those smiles and asked the right questions—another thing he's good at. That's just how it works with him. And I guess Nicolas didn't originally want to join the guild, but Randall had been sure that he'd be a good recruit and so he'd set Kelveris on him. Within half an hour, Nicolas had been fitted for a tabard. I guess that was back in the day when he was reckless and stuff? Apparently he was even more of an insufferable jerk back then.

So it was no surprise to anyone that Kelveris would be the one to calm the gnome down and keep him from freaking out on us.

Oh, he also has an amazing memory when it comes to names. You can be introducing yourself to someone on the other side of the room and he will know your name forever. Maybe it's those ears…

"Quimberton, yes?" Kelveris turned on his trademark smile. "I remember you from our efforts in the citadel, a few years back." No clue what he was talking about there. "If you'd wanted a spot for glory, you need only ask. Name calling is rather—"

For a second, it had looked like our night elf's charms were working, but as soon as he slipped in a joke, the gnome's face contorted with rage again and he pointed a stubby finger accusingly at Kelveris. "How can you fight next to those abominations?" His lower lip trembled, making his pink mustache quiver with anger. "That you can stand here and not strike down our enemies, after what they've done! You're as vile as they are!"

Kelveris was quiet a moment, clearly realizing that this was not something to be smoothed over easily, as he was missing some key piece to the puzzle. In that time, as he tried to read whatever had happened off the fuming gnome's face, Neesera stepped forward, her hooves clopping dully against the wooden floor. Her smile was as sweet as ever and she reached her hand out slowly toward the gnome, an offering of peace. "Come now. I know we and the Horde have had our differences, but I think our work in this world has shown that perhaps the past can be put aside—"

"Eight to one!" The gnome screamed.

Silence met him. Mostly because I don't think anyone had a clue what he was talking about, be they Alliance, Horde, or Earth factioned.

Though his gaze implied that the Horde should have known exactly what he was saying, he spelled it out for the rest of us. "For every eight Alliance here, there's one Horde! Do you know why?"

Senta'ri started to object, but Fluffy caught him and shook his head. I think the tauren was figuring that any attempt to reason with the little gnome would come off in his mind as a cover up and to let the Alliance deal with their own crazies.

The gnome was looking over everyone, a wildness in his eyes. Loss. He'd lost something dear to him.

I could feel tension in the air and it made me uncomfortable. It reminded me of the rift between the factions in Booty Bay and how I'd been all but exiled for merely thanking that forsaken priest. Without even thinking, I pressed closer to Brath, like he might somehow shield me from whatever was about to come.

Something seemed to click in the gnome's mind and he did another accusatory sweep of the roof before his gaze landed on Maevlen. He scurried toward him, pointing up. "You didn't tell them!"

Maevlen never took his eyes off the gnome. He held his hands up in an attempt to placate his attacker. "Please, hear reason—"

"Theramore is gone!" The gnome spat, whirling away so that he could look over the entire group. So that he could see everyone's surprise. "The Horde did it! They held their armies back so that they could lay waste to our homes while we defended a foreign world!"

"Ya got some nerve, accusin' us a sometin' dat undahanded—" Senta'ri snapped, attempting to stalk toward the little gnome. However, Fluffy's grip on his shoulder tightened so hard and fast that the troll let out a yelp and had to pause to wrestle free from his comrade.

Miksa and Rip were exchanging a confused look and Fizz, where he was standing near Maevlen, looked shocked as well. I don't know about all the Horde, but these guys, at least, hadn't had anything to do with whatever was happening.

"Underhanded? Your warchief didn't seem to think it was below him," the gnome hissed. "He destroyed Theramore while you all distracted us! Made us think that peace was possible!"

Fluffy looked like he'd been slapped. For the first time, he tried to speak out on behalf of his group and the other Horde adventurers out here, but it quickly fell into little more than him trying to defend against the shrieking gnome.

As they argued, I couldn't think about whatever this Theramore was. It was selfish of me, but what crossed my mind wasn't how many were killed or did any of my friends know anyone there? Instead, I wanted to know what that meant for help for my world, if theirs erupts into war again. Will we have to pick a side with the Horde or the Alliance? Will Azeroth's fighting spill over onto Earth? We can't afford that if we're gonna push back the Legion.

"Please," I stepped forward without thinking, echoing Maevlen's words.

"Save your breath," the gnome snapped, turning on me so suddenly. "I'm under no illusion. I've seen you fight with whoever's on hand. You don't give a damn about our world, except that it's functional enough to save yours!"

His words hit home. How could I deny that when it was what I'd just been thinking? I felt sick and grimy inside.

Eric patted my shoulder, though when I looked at him, he was pale, like he was terrified that what the gnome was saying was true. However, he tried to smile at me. "He's beyond reason right now."

"That's because your reasons are excuses!" The gnome motioned toward all of us. "You know the truth now, though! You can make this right!" His eyes were desperate as he looked over Nicolas and the others. When fighting didn't immediately break out amongst us, his gaze hardened again. "If you can stand beside those monsters, then you deserve to die, the same as them!"

When silence met his demand again, fire flickered to life at the gnome's fingertips. "So be it! I'll avenge Theramore alone, you cowards!"

Before he could cast his first fireball, the nearest vindicator had him incapacitated. The draenei didn't say a word as he quietly took the gnome in his arms and hurried off downstairs.

There was this terrifying silence after the gnome was gone. Like the world could have come to a standstill. I know I wasn't the only one afraid to breathe, because when my gaze met the Russian mage's, big and burly as he was, he looked as lost as that gnome had. Like a single misstep would bring our world's salvation crumbling down around us. Isaiah was watching the heroes from Azeroth, his knuckles pale against his holster on his hip.

Finally, Nicolas broke the silence. He was so still and his voice was eerily calm as his gaze slid toward Maevlen. "There's been an attack on Theramore?"

Maevlen took in a slow breath, steeled himself, and met Nicolas's gaze. "We got the first report about fifteen minutes before you returned from your mission."

Clara darted forward, clasping Nicolas hands in hers. It took me a moment to realize that he'd been reaching toward his daggers. She looked at Maevlen. "What happened? How many were injured?"

"We don't know yet," Maevlen whispered. "We…It was decided that we would wait to tell everyone…so as not to worry anyone until more was known and the information could be validated." As silence threatened to fall upon our group again, Maevlen sucked in a slow breath. "It is likely that, if the attack is as grievous as rumors say, that many of us will be called back to Azeroth to serve in the budding war. If this is true, this may be our only chance to deal a decisive blow against the Legion here on Earth. If we wait for information…"

"We'll be called away before we can," Clara murmured. She let go of Nicolas hands, staring down at the floor, a frown in place.

"Your brother is in Theramore. If you want to wait, I'll stand by you," Nicolas said, though he stopped himself from adding anything else when Clara shook her head.

"This needs to be done," she reached out and squeeze his hand again before looking at me. "After all, enough people have died because of our willingness to brush aside these matters." Her smile was weak. "We'll do what we can here before we're called away." She paused and then looked around, "Well, we will anyway. Obviously I don't speak for everyone."

There was this brief pause in which everyone kind of looked over everyone else and then Cisty let out a soft laugh, though it seemed sad, somehow. "I think you do, Miss Clara." She trotted up to the rest of us, one hand resting on the axe hanging at her side. "What say we get that portal started before anymore distractions pop up?"

Character List

Note: I disagree with some of the heights WoW wikki gives for races (orc men do not seem like they would be 6'6" on average), so unless there's a note that they'd be a little guy, they're basically average height. Also, ages on there seem a little odd, too. Meh. Take it with a grain of salt, these are the profiles I keep in mind for everyone.

Characters are listed roughly by the order that they came into the story and any nicknames/names they're better known as are in parenthesis (since some of their actual names haven't been introduced through Amy's narration…).

Amy Ford — human (f); American; subtlety rogue; brown hair (currently dyed red and cut short), hazel eyes, tanned with freckles; about 5'5"; 17 years old; not much of a figure; some skill in herbalism.

Greg Ford — human (m); American; demonology warlock; brown hair, hazel eyes, very pale; about 5'10"; 20 years old; scrawny gamer guy; Amy's brother and not a great guy overall.

Fizzit (Fizz) Icesprog — goblin male; Steamwheedle Cartel; arcane mage; black, spiky hair, red eyes, dark green skin; 4'1"; 37 years old; a bit lanky for a goblin; tailor/enchanter.

Brathrion (Brath) — black dragon (m); Twilight Hammer; black hair (currently cut short), golden eyes, copper skin; about 6'1"; Looks like he's in his early twenties, though as a dragon, he's much older; rippling pectorals that would make most ladies drool. In his draconic form, he looks like a drake; wingspan 28', claws about 7", black scales. If he has professions, he doesn't use them. It is also unclear if he can use magic or not.

Nicolas Weaver — human (m); Alliance; combat rogue; reddish brown hair, (currently bleached and looking white-blonde), brown eyes, a decent tan; about 5'11"; 30 years old; toned muscles, lithe body.

Clara Grace — human (f); Alliance; holy priest; dirty blonde hair, green, pale despite her travels; 5'8"; 29 years old; in shape, though a little soft with less definition in her muscles than most adventurers.

Randall (Mr. Responsible) Darksbane — human (m); Alliance; protection paladin; longish blonde hair, blue eyes, tanned skin; 6'1"; 38 years old; well toned muscles; deceased.

Eric (TJ) Fieldson — worgen (m); Alliance; fire mage; shaggy brown hair, blue eyes, kinda pale; 5'11"; 23 years old; a bit scrawny. In his worgen form, he's 7'10", dark brown fur, actually looks fairly ripped (though his worgen buddies back home call him the little guy).

Derrestrasz (Derres) — red flight dragon (m); Wyrmrest Accord; waist-length golden hair, glowing blue eyes, pale skin; 6'3"; looks to be in his early thirties; lithe, elven body. In his dragon form he looks like a large drake; wingspan 34', claws about 9", red scales.

Neesera Lightsong — draenei (m); Alliance; restoration shaman; curly blue hair, glowing white eyes, pale blue skin; 6'8"; young for an immortal, looks to be in her mid twenties; in shape; miner/engineer.

Maevlen Faithsfire — draenei (m); Alliance; arcane mage; white hair, glowing white eyes, dark blue skin; 7'3"; immortal, looks maybe…29ish?; built by human standards, a bit thin by draenei standards; herbalism/alchemy.

Michel De Smedt — human (m); Belgium; civilian; brown hair, hazel eyes, freckles; about 4'7"; 12 years old; wears glasses, not very muscled; deceased.

Bartholomew (Bart) Blackheart — forsaken (m); Horde; demonology warlock; stringy brown-gray hair, glowing yellow eyes, mostly rotted off skin; about 5'9" in his stoop; 25 years old at time of death; herbalist/scribe.

Cistern (Cisty) Wobblebracket — gnome (f); Alliance; protection warrior; bright green hair, blue eyes, decent tan; 2'9"; 67 years old; in great shape from all that armor.

Ripper (Rip) Shatterfist — orc (m); Horde; fury warrior (prot offspec); bald head, dull red eyes, light green skin; 6'1"; 35 years old; burly; herbalist/alchemist.

Miksa Ragegore — orc (f); Horde; subtlety rogue; short purple hair, blue eyes, brownish-green skin; 5'10"; 32 years old; well toned muscles.

Senta'ri Bonegrinder — troll (m); Horde; beast mastery hunter (pet Cat); light orange hair, yellow-orange eyes, and light blue-green skin; 7'4" when standing upright, about 6'2" when slouching; 24 years old; lanky, yet toned.

Cloudeddawn (Fluffy) Plainswhisper — tauren (m); Horde; restoration shaman; his mane and braided beard are honey colored, green, fur is a pale honey color (a bit lighter than his mane); 7'10"; 83 years old; he looks like a walking wall, from Amy's perspective, though he's a bit small among his tauren brethren.

Kelveris Duskleaf — night elf (m); Alliance; feral druid (kitty); waist length white hair, glowing white eyes, purple-blue skin; 7'1"; 10,547 years old; well toned, muscled; leatherworker/skinner; leader of the guild Crusaders' Remembrance (the title was inherited from the former guild leader; he wanted to name it Free Hugs for Moonkin to impress a certain lady friend, but the name change was shot down by the majority of his guild. One of his few defeats).

Isaiah Jaegal — human (m); American; marksman hunter, if anything; short cropped black hair, dark eyes, tanned skin; 6'0"; 39 years old; in shape.

Vsevolod (That Russian Mage) Anisimov — human (m); Russian; frost mage; blonde, steely gray, pale; 6'3"; 27 years old; body builder, from the looks of it.

Zaercia — black flight dragon (f); The Black Prince; long black hair, golden eyes, copper skin; 5'11"; looks like she's in her early twenties, though as a dragon, she's much older; slender, yet toned. Her dragon form is unknown, as she maintains her human appearance to keep a low profile; she is her kind's hope for a future.

Hendric Brewbeard (quite possibly not his real last name, but it's what he offers when people ask) — dwarf (m); Alliance; arms warrior; long brown hair, short brown beard, dark eyes that twinkle with mischief, grayish skin; 4'11"; 111 years old and arguably never sober for a day of it; stout and fit; beer alchemist (it is his official title within his guild, or so he claims).

Aeragosa (Derres' friend) — blue flight dragon (f); Wyrmrest Accord; white-blue hair, glowing green eyes, dark skin; 5'10"; looks to be in her early thirties; slender. Her dragon form is that of a drake, 25' wingspan, 6" claws, blue scales.