Author's Note: I own nothing, I hold no claim to any of what you see here.
Name: Potter, H
Location: SI:7 Training Area, Stormwind Old District (Warcraft Canon)
Mission: Survival In Canon
Time Until Completion: [CLASSIFIED]
"Ooof!"
Harry landed on his back, in the dirt, for what seemed like the millionth time that evening. Makale was dead-set on teaching him to use the halberd the wizard acquired in their trip through time. Diana Kaedrin revealed that the halberd was, in fact, one of the few commissioned for the Stormwind Royal Guard. The guardswoman had fought to let Harry keep the weapon for services rendered. So, with the paladin's help, Harry had trained incessantly with the House Wrynn halberd. The training yard was specially spelled for this kind of work: no weapon can actually do lasting damage to their sparring partners, allowing for people to wield their preferred weapon without fear of killing or maiming their friends. Not the results I was hoping for after how many months? Harry thought. I can't even touch the guy.
"You just gonna lay there, Judas?" Makale asked from the other side of the training field, letting out a chuckle.
"What? I'm pretty comfortable here. I think we've worn in a nice niche to relax in."
Makale laughed. "C'mon. You're not doing that bad." The paladin grabbed Harry by the shoulder and lifted him to his feet. As the wizard brushed himself off, Makale continued. "Your strength has improved, and your speed nearly outpaces me. You just have to remember, I've been fighting with my sword and shield for years. You've only been training for a fraction of that. Don't give up, it will come to you. Besides, your spells are on point, and that cannon of an arm alone would make you a formidable opponent." The paladin eyed the false arm in question. "Have you ever tried not relying on that wand of yours? The only time I've seen you use magic without it is when you're under extreme stress."
Harry nodded. "I've tried a little bit. Mostly small stuff. Speaking of which..." Harry flung out his hand. A small, swirling mist appeared, condensing into a pair of water-skins. The wizard tossed one of them to Makale. Harry gulped his down quickly. "Refreshing. Anyways, if I could figure out some of the more complex spells, it should help. I haven't seen many who can fight with ranged, arcane and melee weapons in concert."
"True. Most stick to a primary style, and augment it with different skills. For instance, paladins can call upon their faith and utilize it like magic at times, working as both shield, sword and bandage. I'm not the best healer, but my strength is buffered by my allegiance in the Red Dragonflight."
"Interesting..." Harry dropped the skin, causing it to disappear. Picking up his halberd, the wizard said, "Well, we ready to get back to work?" Harry then brought the head of his weapon low to his left side.
"Of course." Makale raised his blade in a guarding position, his shield on the ground next to him. "On you, buddy."
Harry nodded and took to a sprint, bringing his pole-arm to bear in an upward sweep. Bound to get lucky sometime...
Makale let go of his sword with one hand and swung his hand towards his shield. Too predictable. And I told him about my magic... The paladin flung his hand towards the wizard and the shield followed, sailing towards Harry's unprotected head.
To his credit, Harry parried the flying shield, sending it flying harmlessly out of reach. However, while Harry was distracted by the shield, Makale brought his sword under the wildly swung halberd. The wizard barely had time to pull his weapon back in the opposite direction, trying to knock the paladin's sword farther out of the way. Instead, the sword rode down the length of the pole-arm, smashing Harry's fingers. The wizard let go of the halberd with one hand, leaning back and aiming the weapon with his metal hand. Harry then charged forward, trying to catch Makale's neck between the axehead and the spike.
The paladin brought his sword back to guard and caught his blade in the spot meant for his neck. Makale then threw his sword to his left, bringing the halberd into the dirt out of the way. Harry then swung with his left fist. Instead of actually connecting, a burst of flame formed, slamming into the paladin and knocking him back a few feet as Makale regained his footing. Without missing a beat, Harry grabbed his halberd with both hands and slammed it into his friend's breastplate, sending another fire spell through it and knocking the paladin on his back. Huh...'bout time..., thought Harry. "Took me long enough, didn't it?" Harry asked as he walked to the paladin, who was sitting on the ground, his sword in the dirt just out of reach.
Makale raised his hand. "Not quite." Harry stood perplexed as Makale's shield bowled him over on its way back to the paladin. Makale caught the shield and got to his feet. "My faith protects me...my shield helps." Note to self: watch out for mages in training. Quick to anger, and none to subtle.
Harry, who was still face down in the dirt, began laughing. Yup...I'm done for now.
As Makale helped Harry back to his feet, a series of explosions rocked the ground beneath them.
"The fel was that?" Makale looked towards the center of town, where a large plume of smoke began to rise.
Harry pulled his wand out of his A.R.M., shrinking the length of his halberd and sliding it into a sheath hanging from his belt. "I don't know, but we ought to check it out." Harry then locked a magazine into his arm weapon.
Name: Verene
Location: ICPF Headquarters (Housing)
Verene walked into the Master's apartment. Apart from a few things, the spacious room looked absolutely spartan. An armor tree and weapon rack stood upon the wall on the right, while a computer sat on a desk opposite. A leather couch sat in the middle of the living area, but there was no television or projector screen in front of it.
The agent was nervous. "Nox? Are you here?"
A figure appeared before her, projected by unseen holographic emitters, of a nondescript man in his late twenties. The figure was wearing a pressed suit and matching tie, his black hair combed back. "Yes and no. My data core is still with Merrick, but I am still linked to the projectors in his suite. Now, what can I do for you? And should I keep Master appraised of this meeting?"
"Oh, no. It's about him, actually." The young Agent sat down on the couch. "When I looked into his younger self's memories, I saw some things from Master. He told his younger self something along the lines of 'our old notions of an idealistic world' and how it's worthless. He also mentioned 'cold-hearted pragmatism', but he shows off constantly. How did he ever come to be like he is now?"
Nox's hologram sighed. "I dunno. Something must've happened to him since before I met him. I was assigned to him just after the Warcraft training mission, and he was already his moody, angry self. As for showing off, have you ever thought of this job as being in acting?" When Verene shook her head, Nox continued. "Sometimes, and I say this with first-hand evidence, merely appearing powerful will make someone back off, or make things go your way. It's an act, and it takes less effort than actually being obscenely powerful or all-knowing. Every time I've seem him get in a show-off mood, it's usually to impress upon someone the importance of following his orders.
"Besides," Nox let out a chuckle. "During the raid on the Caverns, Jaxy was pretty stressed out. Commander Rivera was kinda leaning on him for this one. He's being debriefed right now. Supposedly, Jaxy wasn't meant to work with his past self. But it did fix some possible paradoxes. Kept a stable time loop. And nothing keeps Old Man Rivera happy-"
"-than a stable time loop. And yes, I was a little stressed out, too." Verene turned to see Judas Merrick standing in the door frame, still in his armor from the fight with Mathers. "Verene, you should've known I have cameras in my room." As Nox disappeared, the Agent walked over to the couch and plopped down onto it. The frame squealed, but held under the weight of a fully armored man. "You know, I don't bite." Merrick let out a chuckle. "I was more'n a little worked up over the situation. Mak used to do a lot of stupid stuff like that. But then again, would I be any different?" Merrick shrugged. "Anything else you want to ask?"
Verene shook her head. "No, I don't think so. I'll come to you if there's anything."
As Verene stood to leave, Nox reappeared. "Verene, I have a missive for you. You're needed for a tracker mission in the League Canon. We have reports from the Institute of War about a missing...champion." Nox nearly spat the last word out in disgust.
"I thought the Institute could track and recall champions as necessary?" Verene asked, perplexed.
"Uh...yeah, if she's still on-world. They're saying that a novice summoner accidentally launched her out of Canon. She went poof, and the Council's in a blind panic. They're calling us, screaming about 'the Loose Cannon is missing' or some such tauren-crap. Anyways, you ought to speak with your Commander and Agent Alban. They're organizing the mission."
Verene nodded. As she walked out of the door, she stopped and turned to Merrick, who was laying back on the couch. "I almost forgot one more thing. How come you never use your real name: Harry Potter?"
Merrick shot up in his seat. "For your protection, and mine, that information better not come out of your mouth again." He growled. "The last thing I need is someone going after my family because some woman with loose lips spilled to the wrong person. Understand?"
Verene visibly gulped. "Completely, sir." She then walked out of the door.
Location: Stormwind (Warcraft Canon)
Harry and Makale arrived at the crumbling entrance to the Stormwind Bank. The explosions had collapsed much of the stonework, leaving a massive pile of rubble in front of them. Squads of guards rushed to pull as much of the stone out, as pained sounds from trapped patrons and staff were heard. Small little fires were being put out all around the site.
"Out of the way! Guard and fire crew only!" Makale turned to see Stockade Warden Thelwater and Dryson running up to the wreckage, a quartet of guardsmen following them. The wizard and the paladin stepped aside to let the group through. Kaedrin stopped in front of the pair. "Mak, why do you always turn up when something like this happens?"
Harry wasted no time in talk, opting to disintegrate the debris a flick of his wand. Scattered across the interior of the building were draenei, elves, dwarves, gnomes and humans in various states of injury. Healing priests and mages began rushing in to heal the wounded. The wizard walked up to the nearest human, one of the guards with but a few scratches on him, and began healing him. When the guard came to his senses, Harry asked, "What happened here?"
Focus returning to the guard, he replied, "Some crazy girl. Walked in, screamed that she was bored, shot some kind of rocket at the guild vaults in the back, threw some grenades of some sort at the front two tellers, and scrambled off." The guard shook his head wearily.
Makale walked up to the man. "Any possible ideas where she went?"
The guard shook his head as he got to his feet. "Not a clue," he groaned. "Weird weapons though. That launcher of hers was shaped like a fish, and those grenades-well I think they were supposed to be grenades-actually had a set of teeth on them. One of the grenades grabbed a teller on the arm before going off. I jammed my shield against her window, but the blast knocked me off my feet."
"Great...any unusual attributes?" Harry said, frustration beginning to set in.
The guard nodded. "She's a twig of a girl, can't have been more than a teenager. Long blue hair, tied into two braids, wore barely anything-no armor. She had a backpack, that launcher, and a bandolier around her waist. Not much else be-"
His words were cut off by yet another set of explosions, coming from the other side of the city. "Damn," Makale swore. "That's the Dwarven District." The paladin grabbed Harry and dragged him along as they ran towards the District in question. "She'll be taking Deeprun if she gets the chance!"
Dryson chased after the pair. "Wait for me! I'm coming with you!"
Makale, Harry and Dryson ran to the entrance to the Deeprun Tram to see guards, surrounding the offending bomber, with swords drawn. The girl let out a giggling laugh and said, "Boring now! Where's hat lady when you need her?" The girl then took off her back pack, and three barrels extended from the opening. "I'm bringing a gun to a knife fight! Ha ha ha!" At once, a mechanical whirring came from the backpack as the barrels began rotating. Dryson charged forward, slamming the top end of his staff down and calling a shield in front of the guards. Bullets struck harmlessly at the shield as the backpack/mini-gun fired.
Without missing a beat, the girl pulled a grenade out of a pouch in the backpack and threw it at the guards. Makale threw his shield to deflect the weapon, but the grenade went off with a brilliant flash, disorienting everyone but Makale as the girl took off into the hallway leading to the tram proper. The paladin gave chase into the facility.
Inside the Deeprun Tram system, a trio of carts waited to take passengers north to the dwarven capital of Ironforge. The girl hopped onto one of the carts, saying, "I feel like I forgot to shoot something..."
"Perhaps you meant me?" Makale stood near the tram, blade out and shield at the ready. Harry stood beside him. "Give it up, whoever you are. If you're lucky, the Stockade might have a open cell for you." The paladin walked over close to the girl. "You gonna surrender? Or do you have any last words?"
"Just one: ZAP!"
The girl drew a small pistol and fired at Makale. The paladin raised his shield, but the burst of electricity coming from the pistol struck it and arced across Makale's armored body. The arc then flared from the paladin, striking Harry in his false arm. The pair fell to the ground, unconscious.
The tram began to head for Ironforge. The girl yelled to the stunned paladin and wizard, "The name's Jinx! Time to find some more nice, shiny places to have fun! Bye bye!"
"Mak! Wake...up!"
Harry shot a stream of water in the paladin's face. Makale began sputtering as the stream subsided. "Alright! I'm up! Where's that toothpick of a girl! Where is she?!" The last statement came out as a roar as the paladin got to his feet.
"Not a clue, aside from the end of this tram, Mak. Dryson waited for me to recover, and I burned off the remaining charge your armor had built up." The wizard expanded his halberd and stowed his wand in its slot.
"Hey. I didn't know what struck you, and all the better-learned healers are on bank duty," Dryson cut in, slightly sheepish.
Harry nodded, then looked down the Tram's rail-line. "You recognize any of her weapons?"
Makale shook his head. "No. The gnomes and goblins have similar rocket launchers, but not a backpack or grenades like those. And the pistol...damn that stung." Makale shook his head vigorously. "Its burst flowed through my armor like nothing."
Harry nodded in acknowledgement. I don't like the sound of this...
Diana Kaedrin came sprinting down the tunnel, waving a small mirror. "Guys! We have another problem."
Dryson looked worried. "What now? We already have to find this 'Jinx' girl, and she's real heavy on the explosives."
The guardswoman looked at her nephew. "Let me guess: skinny, young and blue pigtails?" When Dryson nodded, Kaedrin grew even more nervous.
"Then if Vincent is correct, we need to be in Gilneas immediately.
Name: Verene
Location: The Institute of War, Runeterra (League Canon)
Just my luck...
Verene walked the corridors of the fabled Institute of War, the headquarters of the League of Legends. An Institute guard walked with the Agent, briefing her on the current situation.
"In short, we've completely lost track of Jinx. With her connection to her summoner still open, even fragmented as it is, she can run rampant nigh indefinitely."
"And you are sure she hasn't just died in transit?" Verene asked.
The pair took a right at an intersection. "According to her summoner, he still can sense the Loose Cannon. However, he holds no command over her as he would during a League-sanctioned battle. Here we are." The guard stopped at a door numbered 24. Walking inside, a young man was seated, chained to the simple metal chair, with a table in front of him and two more chairs opposite him.
"Thank you, guardsman." Verene sat in one of the open chairs as the door was locked behind her. Looking at the man, she saw the fear evident in his eyes and expression. The man wore plain dark blue robes, and had short blond hair. "Damian, was it?" The summoner nodded. "I need you to tell me exactly what is going on, from your perspective. Give me the full rundown. What happened since the end of your last match and now?"
Damian gulped visibly, then nodded again. "I-I was trying to release her from her link. We...we use these links from summoner t-t-to champion to c-compete. We use them as our avatars, so we no longer need to wage war on a massive scale. Each skirmish the League organizes has a purpose behind it, from trade disputes to border wars. I'm from Piltover, and I thought it would be a sort of ironic statement, to call Jinx to fight for us. She caused serious destruction in our city, you see? Anyway, we won our match, and were supposed to release our champions. When I did, I lost control of the unbinding spell, and Jinx disappeared. I can still see flashes from her perspective, but I can't make heads or tails of it. I know she still has some...items...that would increase her combat ability. I was testing a new idea for her to use. Her trinkets would increase her resistance to magic, her ability to damage her opponent and her natural healing. The link also lets her regenerate her supply of munitions. It wouldn't do for a champion to run out of ammo and cost the city-state their match."
"So you saying that she can regenerate and is more powerful than normal AND SHE'LL NEVER RUN OUT OF EXPLOSIVES?" Verene asked, incredulously. "What would possess you to do something like that? To use an insane explosives expert as your personal lackey, and give her ability-augmenting equipment to boot? Who comes up with this spidren-crap? It sounds like the plot to a bad vid-"
The summoner cut in. "It's how Runeterra operates. Anyone who applies and is approved to become a champion can be selected for a League-sanctioned battle. It was either this, or let our magic run unchecked in true war and destroy what's left of our world." Having silenced the Agent, Damian started twitching slightly. When the twitch episode subsided, he said, "Sorry, I just got another flash from her. She's in a...," Damian shifted in his seat, confused. "A bank, of all places. Well she did attack the Piltover treasury at one point."
Verene stood up and walked over to the summoner. Placing a hand over his head, the Agent reached into Damian's mind and sifted through the images and sounds from Jinx's view. Seeing her attack on the Stormwind Bank, the Agent swore loudly. "Mithros and god's all, I just left that damned place!"
Location: The Greymane Wall, Gilneas (Warcraft Canon)
Two guards were on patrol at the top of the Greymane Wall, the impregnable barrier between the human kingdom of Gilneas and the rest of Azeroth. Both men could feel the chill of the Silverpine Forest winter as they buttoned their jackets in an attempt to stave off the elements.
"All I'm saying is that if you'd at least stay awake during Sergeant's briefs, maybe you wouldn't be on wall duty for the what, fifteenth time in a row?" Gordon Simon said to his compatriot.
"And maybe, just maybe, if you weren't kissing Sarge's arse during the whole thing, I wouldn't have tried to sleep through it," John Grant shot back. "Why did you get stuck out here anyway?"
"Sergeant thinks I'm a positive influence on you. I call tauren-crap on that." Simon snorted. "The only positive influence on you is the mess hall."
"Hey! I like to think of it as something to look forward to. It makes the night go faster."
"So you keep saying." Simon looked over the outer edge of the wall. "Hey look, there's another refugee. Right up against the wall." The guard raised his rifle, using the scope to get a closer look.
"Leave 'em for the Scourge. Or the worgen. There's plenty of those animals running around." Grant leaned over the edge. "Five silver says I can ding 'er from here."
Simon lowered his rifle. "John, you're not spitting on her. Sergeant would have you on KP in a heartbeat." Raising his rifle again, he continued, "It looks like she's...painting...weird. Must be one of the crazy ones."
"Well, let her paint. It's not like she can do much with a brush, can she? And I'm not going out there to clean it up."
Simon gave a shrug. "Fair enough. I'm gonna call it in to Sergeant, though."
"Ugh...fine. Do whatever you want. As long as Sarge doesn't throw his sword at me again."
The last thing that Guardsman Gordon Simon heard as he turned around was the sound of a girl's hysterical laughter before the entire section of wall collapsed from underneath him in a massive explosion.
Verene stood upon a surviving tower of the Greymane Wall, a spell of invisibility shielding her from prying eyes. Jinx lay unconscious next to her, having been finally subdued after a drawn out firefight involving members of the Gilneas Guard and a pair of hound-masters. Opening her comm-link she said, "I have Jinx in custody. I am going to stand by in case any more issues arise."
The cold voice of Commander Nathan Rivera replied. "No, you are to leave the girl with League Canon and return for debriefing."
"But Commander, the Gilneans need help. They could be overrun wi-"
"Enough," replied Rivera, his voice barely a whisper. "Get Jinx back. Right. Now." The link then went dead.
"Damn."
Harry, Dryson and Makale approached the blasted portion of the Greymane Wall. Guards stood just inside the rubble, firing upon groups of wolf-like creatures who assaulted them from the angle opposite of the trio. Like wolves, the creatures used claws and teeth to attack with a predator's grace. Unlike wolves, however, they ran on two feet as humans would, the shortest of them standing a hair over 6-foot-5. "Well, the path's right in front, boys," the paladin said, drawing his sword from its sheath. Harry expanded his halberd, and Dryson readied his staff. The trio charged the creatures, making their way to the besieged guardsmen before them.
A burst of fire shot out of one of the guard's weapons, engulfing three of the creatures in a raging inferno. The guard charged the weapon and fired again, igniting several more of them. "That woman sure knew how to treat a man, didn't she?" the guard bellowed, eliciting a series of chuckles from some of the fighters.
Harry sunk his halberd into one of the remaining creatures, slinging it towards another as the wizard used the momentum to swing back in the opposite direction. Makale smashed a pair of them with his shield, while piercing another in the tendons of it's neck. Dryson ran over through the fight to assist in the healing operation on the inside of the wall.
The priest began casting healing spells on fallen troops nearby. One had awoken during the healing, and Dryson was quick to ask, "What happened here? How did the wall fall?"
The guardsman groaned as he struggled to a seated position. "Explosions. About twenty of them at once. Me and my partner were walking rounds, when we saw a girl outside, painting on the wall. The tower collapsed shortly after. I grabbed my partner and used a quick spell to slow us down as we fell. Otherwise, we'd be a pair of bloody smears on the stonework."
Another guard approached the priest. "We took care of that psycho. Some woman came up, and we took Jinx down with her help. Verene, I think her name was. She even gave Mark there," The guard pointed to the one with the fire-spewing gun, "something she called a 'dragon's breath shotgun.' Whatever it is, it's making short work of the worgen that's come out of the woodwork since the fall."
Harry took notice in the middle of the fighting to see the shotgun in question. That's Muggle military tech. From my world, or a world like it. How did he get a hold of something like that? How is he not out of ammo...or how has the barrel not melted down? The wizard was knocked from his reverie as a worgen punched him in the stomach, sending him sailing across the path. His halberd landed in the dirt out of reach.
"Judas, over here!"
The wizard turned to see a worgen advancing on Dryson and the fallen soldiers. Harry ran towards the group, arming his blade-rails. The worgen turned to face the wizard, and Harry slashed at the beast with his A.R.M. Knocking the swinging blade away, the creature snapped at Harry, forcing him to lean back to avoid its bite. The wizard realigned his blades and stabbed the worgen in the lung. As soon as the strike connected, Harry disengaged the rails, slicing through the beasts flesh. The worgen fell to the ground, dead.
"Are you all right?" Harry asked, after wiping the remaining blood off on the corpse of his foe.
Dryson nodded. "We'll be fine for now. Go help Mak."
The wizard nodded, then turned and left towards the bulk of the fighting again.
Another burst of fire spewed from the shotgun of the guard, the magnesium pellets in the shot shells burning white-hot. The worgen in front of Mark fell dead as Harry stopped beside him. "Do you mind if I borrow that gun?"
The guard tossed him the shotgun without fuss. "Oh mustn't ferget. You'll need this." Mark handed the wizard a small armband and placed around Harry's right wrist. "The fine lady said to keep it with the shotgun." Harry nodded, and started firing on the feral beasts.
After a few shots, Harry began to feel some slight wear on his shoulder. I have a metal arm and shoulder, and this thing stillkicks like a hippogriff. Must be a damn American product. As Harry pumped another round into the chamber, a worgen crept up on the wizard...
...and slashed Harry's back open with it's claws.
Pain shot through the wizard's entire body as he fell onto his stomach. Rolling over, Harry now lay face to face with his attacker. The worgen slammed onto the wizard and tried to fight the gun away from him. Harry, without a second thought, pulled the trigger. The worgen burst into flames, flailing wildly. Small little fires flared up on the wizard's clothes as the back-blast of close range shooting took effect. Harry threw the shotgun away and dug out his wand, quenching the fires on his clothes.
The worgen, in its final living moments, dropped back onto the wizard, and clamped its jaws down on Harry's flesh-and-blood shoulder.
Harry passed out, both the slow blood loss and pain overwhelming him.
"So, Rivera got pissed off that I even suggested hanging back and helping with the defense." Verene said, having sat down on the couch next to Merrick. "With the amount of worgen there, and the size of the hole Jinx blew into Greymane Wall, it's only a matter of time before Gilneas gets overrun."
Merrick nodded. "True. Did you do anything to help them? I see you don't have your armband. Your Commander gave that to you for ammunition storage."
"I gave them my shotgun and the armband. The fold-space generator gave them enough Dragon's Breath rounds to burn most of the Silverpine Forest."
"Well, then you did help, even if it seemed insignificant."
"I just wish I knew why he wanted me to stay away."
"Easy, Judas. You've been out a while."
Harry woke to the sound of Makale's voice. He saw the paladin standing next to him, out of his usual gold armor. "Ugh...what happened," Harry asked, both groggily and hoarsely. The wizard tried to sit up, and flopped back down wearily.
The paladin let out a chuckle. "Perhaps you should wait a while before attempting that again."
Harry nodded, rubbing his head. The wizard then noticed something unusual...
"Well, I might know the reasons why, Verene." Merrick sat up a little straighter on the couch. "First off, Jinx needed to be sent back to her Canon as quickly as possible, before any further damage could be done."
Verene nodded slowly. "And the second?"
"Well, there was an interesting story of mine from that time frame, let's just say."
Harry slammed Makale against a nearby wall, pinned by the throat via the wizards false arm. "What the hell is going on!? How long was I out!?"
Harry then noticed how that even though Makale was at eye level with him, the paladin was dangling almost a full foot off of the ground. The wizard dropped Makale and looked around, stopping when he saw a mirror at the other side of the room. The wizard began walking towards it.
"Judas, I'm sorry, but you're not going to like what you see..."
"It was when I was chasing down Jinx in my time. We had just arrived in Gilneas, and worgen were rushing the breach."
"I can imagine. Is this story what I think it is?"
"More'n likely."
Harry stood before the mirror. Looking at a reflection that wasn't his...that couldn't be his.
"I'm sorry, Judas. There was only a limited cure..."
"I became a worgen that day."
Author's Note:
Okay, I've got no excuse this time. I just haven't been online often enough to get any writing done, and the times I am on, I have other projects I have to work on.
A funny thing happened. Looking back on my last chapter, I mentioned I would bring back Verene (I might have jumped the gun on that. Who knows). Anyway, I looked through my copies of Terrier, Bloodhound and Mastiff and realized that..there's no description of her. Anywhere. At all (Cue my mental self slamming his head on his desk). Well, I'll work something out.
And for those who are lore-hounds with WoW, I know how the Greymane Wall was supposed to fall. This is my idea as to how I wanted it to fall. I think there's a way to rethink the timeline so it all works out. We shall see.
As always, don't forget to read, rate and review ToiC: Potter, H (I'm not whoring or blackmailing for reviews, I just really, really want feedback).
Until Next Time,
Master Merrick
P.S. When my head stops pounding, I'll go back and review my writing for grammar/spelling check. Cheers then, gents.