By: TheWintersDragon
Jonathan Adams, a young man from Lakeshire, awakens to memories of a previous life and a rather BIZARRE power. So the young man sets out to change Azeroth into a place where he and his family can live peacefully.
Starts during the beginning of the second war.
Status: ongoing
Published: 2023-02-25
Updated: 2023-10-03
Words: 11756
Chapters: 4
Original source: threads/1075101
Exported with the assistance of
Chapter 1 - I believe in MiraclesSo I know that while Jojo's bizarre adventure is rather well known, a bloody fan game, no matter how good, might need some explaining.
The 7th stand user game is a fan game made by Clayman, set during Jojo part 3. You play an OC with the possibility of using 1 of 18 stands the player could use after doing a personality evaluation and setting out to defeat Dio with Jotaro and crew. Now that does not even begin to go into the rabbit hole that is that game.
Now Jonathan can use all 18 stands, but he can only use one of them at a time. And he has all the same weaknesses as a normal stand user. For example, if his stand gets restrained, then so does he.
Here's a link to see all the stands - Stand List
Jonathan only uses one stand in this chapter, but it's a pretty famous one. If you want more info, then click on the spoilers info below.
Spoilers
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"This Stand has the power to manipulate the subconscious using bioelectricity. It can make the user invisible to others and induce hallucinated pain. It can also deflect attacks back at the foe." (In-Game Description)
Widely considered by the fans to be the most OP stand if it were to appear in the anime, so much so that it's considered to have the potential to be a main villain's stand.
Also, other characters' POVs will be written in third person view to provide a more unbiased viewpoint compared to the MC first person view, I know you're not really supposed to do this, but I just want to see if I can make it work.
Zuluhed
Zuluhed, Chieftain of the Dragonmaw Clan, stood there with his second Nekros Skullcrusher, stunned as his orcs tore each other apart. The bloodlust that helped them destroy their foes now turned them against brother and sister while others fell onto the ground, bloody sleeping.
The task to get a mystical artefact from his visions was supposed to be his clan's time to cement themselves in the horde truly, and they would ride these dragons to conquer the skies and reign fiery death on the horde's enemies.
Even this red dragon in front of him, while dangerous, would have been put down eventually. But no, about as soon as the battle started. His clansmen were either fighting each other or falling over asleep.
The roar and blazing fire that followed knocked him out of his stupor as the dragon noticing its enemy's confusion, found its second wind. Zuluhed heard a low growl come out of his mouth. Then, before he could start barking orders, several of his guards roared as if possessed, swinging their axes at each other or, at this moment, towards him.
Zuluhed tightened his grip on his axe, swinging it into the neck of one of his berserking clansmen. Then, as another orc rushed him, Zuluhed tapped into the power within him, unleashing a shadowbolt with his empty hand, hitting the orc square in the chest. While the orc screamed in pain, it recovered and slowly started its charge again.
While Zuluhed was about to unleash another shadowbolt, he heard an agonising howl behind. Turning his head, he saw Nekros with a spear through his chest. Before he fell over, Nekros stared into Zuluhed eyes in utter confusion as he could not quite register what was happening.
"Nekros! Dame it," yelled Zuluhed, unleashing the shadowbolt, hitting home again and killing the raging orc for good. Having no time to relax, the orc that speared Nekros turned his attention towards him; however, before he could get ready again, he heard the red dragon roar, followed by the ground under his feet shaking violently. Turning his head to see the dragon rear up with its wings outstretched as far as it could manage. Then, realising what was about to happen, he dug himself in as best he could, ignoring the berserking orc as he was soon to be not a problem.
"Brace yourselves!" Zuluhed shouted and was happy that some of his clansmen held their senses, following his example and bracing themselves. Unfortunately, his happiness was short-lived when he felt the dragon's gust of wind slam into his body. While enduring, he saw others weren't so lucky such as the berserking orc that speared Nekros was now flown straight into a wall only to fall to the ground unmoving. As the wind subsided, Zuluhed glanced around, trying to get an idea about the state of his clan after that last attack. Unfortunately, what he saw did not paint a pretty picture.
While his forces that were still of sound mind managed to hold against the attack, the berserking ones and those that fell asleep lay decimated, their limbs mangled. Zuluhed took stock of what was left of his forces and decided that, at this moment, he needed to return with a bigger force and find out what was happening with his clan.
"Dragonmaw! Fall back! Retreat to the camps." He turned to head out of the cave, raising his axe. "Fall back! Fall back! Fal-" yet again, Zuluhed was stunned as his whole body suddenly would not listen to him, remaining still regardless of what he wanted. That's when he heard the voice behind him.
"Horrible isn't it to be, restrained against your will, to be at the merciful whims of another creature. It's a disgusting thing to do to another creature." as the figure, no figures entered his vision, he was stunned for the third time.
The first was a thin human boy who seemed to be beginning to become a man. But the second figure caught Zuluhed the most, the second figure floating beside the human, its tail wrapping around the boy in some protective gesture and its bright glowing yellow eyes staring right into him. He tried speaking, but no words came out.
Strange Creature
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The boy walked towards him, pulling out a dagger of orcish make. Realising what was about to happen, Zuluhed screamed inside himself to wrestle back some control.
No, not like this. I can't die like this.
"For what it's worth, Zuluhed, I've had Mircules make sure you won't feel any pain." with that, the boy stared at the dagger before plunging it into Zuluhed throat while he fell dying. His head was full of thoughts of his failures.
How he failed the horde. His clan and what he had done to deserve this dishonourable death.
Orastrasz
Orastrasz was not having a good day. Admittedly however, ever since Orastrasz had been charged with the duty to protect the Dragon's Soul, he's had a lot of good and quiet days, from just spending a lot of time sleeping to popping out of his cave to take on human form and go down to Lakeshire to do a spot of fishing.
The thought of Lakeshire made his anger flare again, and he reflexively roared out another column of flames that melted a dozen fleeing orcs. He didn't need to keep attacking anymore. He was killing an enemy that had given up, but every orc that lay died meant that his friends of Lakeshire had a better chance of survival.
Besides, the old dragon knew the orcs would take him down when the first volley of arrows hit and dug into his scales. Their fel users, draining the very life from him. He would have died here, taken out as many of the orcs with him but died all the same, and the orcs would have gotten their hands on the Dragon's Soul. Then he noticed he had a little helper, a human judging by the life he was sensing, and a young one. What stood out to Orastrasz was that one would think that spotting one human in a sea of orcs would be easy, but if it were not for his innate power from being a red dragon, he would not have noticed the human. Only when the orcs were on the retreat did he find his helper standing over what he assumed was the attacker's leader with a strange creature floating beside him.
As Orastrasz strode towards the boy, he decided to take some small measure of the mortal, who at this moment was a bit too busy staring at the bloodied knife to notice his approach. And that strange creature who stared at Orastrasz making his way to them.
Deciding that a subtle approach would be better, Orastrasz took on his human visage, an older gentleman with a bread that would impress some dwarfs, or at least that is what the dragon himself boosts while conversing with his mortal friends.
As Orastrasz drew closer, the dragon noticed the boy seemed familiar. "Wait, Jonathan, is that you?" Orastrasz said, wondering how a boy who was deeply sick the last time he saw him was up and about, terrorising entire armies.
Jonathan snapped his head towards Orastrasz, his eye going wide. "Old… Old man Higgins! Yo… Your, the dragon."
"Yes, I am, but you can't say I'm the only one with surprises this day. I'm going to assume your mother and father did not abandon you while they evacuated, and they also." Orastrasz broke eye contact with Jonathan briefly to turn his head towards the creature. "I assume are unaware of your 'talents' Vivienne would have a heart attack seeing her sick boy use magic." And magic, the creature definitely was, but Orastrasz was not of the blue dragonflight, so he couldn't tell what exactly the type of magic the boy was using with a quick glance.
Jonathan winced. "Oh, by the light! Mum and Dad are so angry with me. Balls, sis, probably going to cry as well." Jonathan squatted and franticly started to rub his face and hair with his unblooded hand.
Orastrasz, sighing, placed one of his hands on the boy's shoulders, stopping Jonathan. Orastrasz also could not help but notice that the creature was softly petting Jonathan's head, but the boy did not seem to notice. Finally, Jonathan turned his head towards Orastrasz, who gave a gentle smile while giving a few strokes of his bread.
"Peace, Jonathan, how about you start dealing with the issues of the present before worrying about the problems of the future." Still, while Orastrasz did say this with sincerity, one can not deny the anger and worry a mother can have for there child.
"Such as explaining, well, how you managed to do all this," Orastrasz said, trying his best to sound as understanding and gentle as he could, judging by the wince he got, tho his attempt may have failed.
Jonathan
You know, as foolish as it might sound, despite me knowing the timeline, I still held out hope that this Azeroth was not like the games, that I would not have to see my dad go out to war, only for him to come back blooded and to tell the rest of us to prepare to evacuate, that I would not have to experience the first and second wars, that I could live my quiet life in Lakeshire. But no, I had to ditch my family when the carts departed. To save a non-name dragon who failed to do his job.
I can't get distracted for now. We must get out of here before Deathwing notices I shredded his plans. "Higgins, I would like to explain everything to you. I really would. However, we need to leave now, as it was Deathwing who sent those orcs."
Upon mention of the destroyer, Higgins went still the demeanour of a kindly older man replaced with the dragon and gave me a look that said how could you possibly know about Deathwing? Higgins looked between a vault behind him and me, saying, "Then we're leaving with the dragon soul." I was surprised by the answer. "Wait, you're going to believe me just like that." While I could not see the man's face anymore as he started to hurry towards the vault, his voice told me he took it very seriously.
"Even if I didn't, this vault is now compromised, and we did not get all the orcs. If we stayed, they would return and renew their assault." Higgins stopped to turn and face me. "Besides, a human child should not know that name, and you will explain to me how you know it but later." Higgins turned to the vault, waved his hands, and recited incantations.
While Higgins was unlocking the vault and displaying the wards, Feeling the tension in the air, It might be a good idea to give Higgins something for him to back off a bit. The idea of explaining something I, myself, did not understand filled me with no sense of stress. "If you want the quick version Higgins, you know how when I was 8, I collapsed and became sicker than usual." The only response I got was, hmm, so at least he was listening to me somewhat. "Soon after that, I started having these dreams, and they showed things I thought were all rubbish. But then I got these powers that my dreams also showed. Their called stands by the way born from my Fighting spirit, whatever that means, well I thought if those dreams came true the-"
"Then you also wanted to see what else could be true from your dreams." Higgins interrupted me as he finished his chant, and the vault door began to open as the wards were dispelled. He turned to me and squinted his eyes before saying. "That's not all there is. Hmm… your still hiding things." But, of course, I was still hiding things. How could I not?
Higgins sighed, "peace, Jonathan, do not take my curiosity towards these 'dreams' as an interrogation but concern from a family friend." That sounded nice, but I could see many more 'concerned.' conversations in my future. Higgins continued ignoring my obvious discomfort. "Now let's get the dragon soul. And go to the rendezvous." As he said that, Higgins conjured a bag before heading towards the Dragon's soul and stuffing it inside. As he did, he waved me over and handed me the bag. I wish he hadn't done that cause. I did not want it or its corrupting influence anywhere near me; it was also bloody heavy.
Higgins stared at me for a minute, probably wondering why I was holding the Dragon soul like he had just handed me a bag full of shit. But he just nodded before heading towards the exit with me behind him, transforming back into his dragon form as we exited the cave. Higgins turned his head towards me and lowered his body. "Get on my back, Jonathan. We head north to the mage city of Dalarna."
"Is that wise, taking a magical artefact that can control dragons to a city of mortal wizards." I finished saying this just before getting myself comfortable on Higgins's back. Then, I heard a soft hmm come out of Higgins's mouth. "We're not heading into the city, just near where we will meet with a comrade."
I nodded in acknowledgement. I guess that comrade would be Korialstrasz, as I saw Higgins about to take off. A question entered my mind. "Higgins, is it alright if I ask a question before we go?"
"Yes? What is it, Jonathan?" Higgins said with a tone of concern for some reason.
"Well, I'm going to assume your name isn't Higgins, so I was wondering what it is." I could hear a sigh of relief from Higgins, dame it, old man. I'm not that bad. Then, ignoring my annoyance, he answered me. "My name is Orastrasz, Jonathan." I ran the name through my head several times but shaked my head as the name was not sticking to the face.
"Umm, I don't want to appear rude, but is it ok if I still keep calling you Higgins." As I finished, something like a light chuckle escaped his mouth. "No, Jonathan, if you find that name more to your liking and comfort, then I would be delighted for you to continue to use it. Now we have wasted enough time. Let us be away from here." And with that, we headed off towards Dalaran.
I took one last glance towards Lakeshire, my home for the previous 16 years and promised myself that I would return with my family safe, my home restored, and all those that would threaten it would lay dead.
And that's a wrap, folks and the start of a new journey. Instead of starting slow and building up, I figured I would start with a bang and then slow things down a bit. I'm also thinking of creating an Informational for all the new characters and what else I need to go in there just so it does not ruin the pace of my story.
Next time Deathwings reaction
Last edited: Feb 24, 2023
Chapter 2 - Death MetalOk, so between my PC exploding and a university assessment that had to be handed in, then said assessment getting deleted cause of my pc dying.
But after all that, I finally FINALLY got the chapter done and passed the assessment as well, which I'm so happy about anyway. Here, the chapter
Jonathan
We had been flying for, I think, a few hours now. But I was too distracted to call that reliable. I shouldn't be distracted at such a crucial time and should be watching for enemies, but even so, I kept staring at my hand, the one that took Zulhand's life. The blood was gone now, but I could still feel it on my hands, its warmth, its smell, but the strangest thing is I felt no guilt at all. I just… I don't know. The previous me probably would have pucked or thought that he or I had crossed a line, but no, not me. It was something else that was bothering me, but I could not-
"Copper, for your thoughts, Jonathan, you've been staring at your hand for quite a while now." Higgins's voice cut through my train of thought. I let out a small sigh. I guess getting a second opinion would not do any harm. "It's about the orc chieftain that I killed and everything else I did like, I don't feel guilty about what I did, but I have this itch at the back of my head that I can't describe."
Higgins gave a soft hum giving himself a few minutes before responding. "Could it be that you found killing the orc chieftain too easy?" that took me back a bit 'too easy.' seeing my confusion Higgins continued. "Let me guess what was going through your head while you were hyping yourself up. Did you perhaps think there would be an epic clash of wits where you must match this orc chieftain's dark powers with your own, that you would taste dirt and come out of it with you barely holding onto your life?"
My sense was discomfort was visibly increasing with me shuffling around, but Higgins did not seem to care and continued. "However, before the fight could even start, you found yourself. Looking at a dead body, wondering to yourself how it could be-"
"This easy." I interrupted him. That wasn't polite, but the words just came out of me. Higgins did not seem insulted. In fact, I think he was smiling. "Tell me, Jonathan, why do you think the fight and everything else you did, made you feel uncomfortable?" I could not answer. That felt odd, to be honest. Shouldn't I have been happy about making the orcs go berserk or just falling over asleep and killing Zulahand? Why would that make me feel uneasy? Without finding an answer, I just shrugged at Higgins.
"The answer is simple it's fear, Jonathan," he said softly. Now that hit me to my core, fear, but after mulling it around, I started to put the puzzle together or at least a part of it. "You saying that I'm scared of my power?" Higgins gave the nod. "Question to you, before the orcs, was there a time you used your power to defend yourself or kill something?" I shook my head. There weren't many chances to practice either when you were a sick child and had a very caring family. You only get a few opportunities to be on your own. I tried using Caravan's pocket dimension once to see if I could switch and practice there. Practising with Caravan was ok, but the moment I tried to swap with another stand, I found myself in my room. So I mostly rely on my previous memories of the 7th stand user game and JoJo lore.
Higgins continued. "Ah, but you did practice, no?" I nodded. Higgins smiled at me. "See Jonathan. You don't so much fear your power itself as you so much fear how strong it really is, and standing over that corpse made you realise that."
That was an idea to mule over and to be honest, Higgins was right. The only reference point to how my powers worked was anime and a fan video game. There was no old mentor to guide me, no spellbook to show me my answers. No, all I had was anime and a fan game, and even they had their limits cause no stand user had more than one stand at a time, and yet here I was running around with 18 of the bloody things. But there was something Higgins was wrong about; he was right that I was scared. I do not know how strong my powers are, but that only leads to my second fear that, at some point, in some way, someone is going to get their own stand.
By the light, if the lich king, Deathwing or a god dame Old god managed to get their hands on a stand like made in heaven… No! Stands start and end with me. I can't imagine that would go down well with many people, but that is something future me can deal with.
"Higgins, your not going to like what I'm about to say." There was no visible reaction from him, more like a calm expectation. I continued, "Well, I know you have many questions about my power, but I'm afraid you won't get many answers from me. My dreams have shown me just how dangerous my abilities are, and I don't want them to spread. Not to say you would spread them or anything, it's just umm… sorry." I tried my best to keep my voice as calm and level as possible, so I did not sound like a brat that did not want his toys taken away from the ancient dragon but as a 16-year-old… yeah, I started to cringe while the words left my mouth.
To my surprise, Higgins just gave a small huff. "Jonathan, I can't say that's not going to cause a few issues, especially with the blues, but here now, we should prioritise, and between you and Deathwing getting his hands on the Dragon Soul, well, I'd rather focus on Deathwing." I nodded. Hmm, I never considered the blues. My thoughts turned to the bronze being the issue, but yeah, I am a walking magic anomaly, aren't I?
A yawn escaped my mouth as a new problem mulled itself around in my head. "Ah, it is getting on in the evening, and small rest would do us some good, Jonathan." I nodded, not noticing until now that the sun was starting to set. I tightened my grip on Higgins as he descended to a cave entrance. As I got off his back, he turned back into his familiar human form and made a few quick hand gestures, and as he did, ruby, coloured mist swirled just a few feet from us before merging into a small campfire with some side plates that judging by the smell had freshly baked bread on them. "Good to be back at this again. Thought I was getting rusty after all this time," Higgins said, more to himself, so it sounded to me anyway.
Higgins turned to me. "Before we relax, I want to do one more thing, Jonathan. If you don't mind, I would like to cast a spell enabling us to speak telepathically." I slightly tilted my head. "Wait, old man. I thought dragons could already speak in other people's heads." Higgins nodded. "We can, and we get better at it the older we get. I'm making it better so we can communicate further than normal and, more importantly, more secure."
I shrugged. If I'm honest, I was too tired to care. The need to eat bread and sleep overtook my worry about the old man doing something fishy. "Yeah, sure old man." Higgins gave me a soft nod and his hand on my head. His thumb pressed against my forehead. Higgins closed his eyes and started to murmur to himself. As he did, I felt some weight attach itself to my mind.
Huh weird
You'll get used to it. Now I knew it was coming, but hearing Higgins's voice in my head still startled me, which obviously showed on my face as Higgins had a smile on him.
Higgins walked around to the other side of the campfire, lighting it with a flick of a flame spawned from his fingers. But, before he sat down, he recited one last incantation that spawned a sleeping bag next to me but not for him.
Higgins, aren't you going to make one for yourself?
Higgins just shook his head. Honestly, my boy, I've spent too much time sleeping. You best get some rest now. We are staying for only an hour or two at most.
I nod, finishing the stale bread and getting into the sleeping bag. I promise myself that when I wake up, I will tell Higgins you need one of Deathwing scales to destroy the Dragon's Soul.
And I know exactly where some scales are.
several hours later
Deathwing
In one of the more forgotten tents of the Blackrock clan, Deathwing, also known as Black Scourge, Aspect of Death, Lord Prestor, minor lord of Altarac Valley, and currently Dragtel Deadtooth of the Blackrock clan, was completely still with no viable signs of emotion showing on his person.
Some of his enimines, even those of his flight, might suspect him to lash out in a fiery rage, but no, and what was keeping his anger in check was nothing more than a single question.
How.
The question repeated in Deathing's head. How did Orastrasz survive his encounter with the Dragonmaw clan? All he got from the murmurings of the orcs that returned was that their fellow clansmen turned on each in a fit of rage. In contrast, others just dropped, falling fast asleep, leading to the aggravating deaths of the Dragonmaws clan leader and his second, which left one of the major clans of the Horde for the time crippled.
There was, of course, only one answer Orastrasz had help. But how Deathwing searched for an answer, he made sure that there was no other dragon or their mortal servants anywhere near that fool of a red, yet despite his careful planning, the dragon's soul was out of his grasp again!
Deathwing calmed the rage that was threatening to overwhelm him. Losing the Dragon Soul was nothing more than a setback, he thought. After all, it's not like they know how to use it, not that it would help them anyway or how to destroy it. Besides, he found it once and can do so again.
What also worried Deathwing was that the whispers from his masters had gone strangely silent as of late. It will prove a bit more complicated without their insight into finding the Dragon Soul again. With that thought, Deathwing's curse acted up again, and he felt the total weight of Azaroth press in on him from all sides. Putting his drink down, he tried to calm his mind, which was getting increasingly more challenging.
However, despite everything going wrong for Deathwing, a new plan began forming in his head. For instance, Nek'rosh Skullcrusher would most likely state his calm for leadership of the Dragonmaw, who would no doubt want to avenge his father and for a being like Deathwing, it would be no trouble to 'guide' him to both his claim as chieftain and his revenge.
Also, now with the Horde not having any air support, such a vacancy could provide an opportunity for his flight.
Providing the Horde with proper 'fire power' would be prudent. As Deathwing's anger started to subside, a wicked grin began to form as he started to realise something.
You are coming, aren't Alexstrasza? Good, I will find the Dragon Soul again and see you bound, broken and then you will submit to me!
Deathwing got up from his chair, walking out of the tent with a plan that calmed his mind.
And that's a wrap. Next time Blackhand gets some help.
Edit - Ok, so I should clarify something for those who do not know what Jojo is and thus don't know what Made in Haven is, so I'll leave a link, but for those who can't be assed to check, the short of is the stand has the ability to accelerate the heat death of the universe in a matter of minutes and replace it with a new one, oh and it also gives its user super speed as well.
So yeah don't want an old god or anyone getting that level of power.
Last edited: Apr 19, 2023
Chapter 3 - Storm, Earth and fireChapter 3
Jonathan
Higgins pitched the bridge of his nose. Eyes closed with a sigh coming out of his mouth.
Wha… what did you just say, Jonathan? Higgins said in my head, his tone implying that this was too early in the morning for this. I was still not entirely used to the whole speaking in-each-other-head thing between us yet.
Maybe telling Higgins that I knew how to destroy the Dragon Soul out of the blue not long after I woke up was not the best way to go about it but eh better sooner rather than later.
As I said, I know how to destroy the Dragon's Soul. When Deathwing made the Dragon's Soul, he noticed that his scales could damage his favourite toy. So all we have to do is get a scale.
Higgins replied as you might expect a Dragon to react when a child says he knows something that his leaders don't. Get a scale, he says, and how do you manage to go about that, huh cause going up to the destroyer and saying pretty please is very likely to cause the dark one to giggle and then kill you.
After he finished, we stared at each other for what felt like a few minutes before I heard not a sigh this time but a groan. Smiling, I continued No, theirs an old Vrykul tomb in Stormheim that houses a weapon and shield forged by the scales of Deathwing. We grab those. We destroy the Dragon's Soul we win.
Higgins, curiosity piked now, asked This Vrykul what was their name. I ummed, memories racing through my mind. Magnar Icebreaker, I believe.
Magnar Icebreaker, Magnar, the name rings a bell, but I never had the pleasure of meeting the man myself. Higgins stood them still momentarily before shaking his head and reaching some conclusion.
Sorry Jonathan, but I won't change my plans even if what you tell me is true. No, our next stop is Loch Modan,. I nver expected Higgins to change his mind all of a sudden, but it best to mention it now and then convince him later in Loch Modan, just more to make him aware of it than anything else. But what he said did raise some interesting questions.
So I understand seeing Korialstrasz, but who are we seeing in the dwarf land, another dragon or one of the red's mortal agents? To Higgins's credit, he did not seem fazed at all that I knew one of his flight's leaders and answered my question.
A mortal follower, a dwarf, more specifically going by the name of… of Emil Iron, no, that's not right. Oh yes, now I remember Emil Rustbeard.
I raised an eyebrow. Old man, it's not like I don't trust you reds not having a plan, but you know, not remembering one of your contacts does not inspire faith. Also, why is this Emil Rustbeard so crucial that we should meet them? Surely we should go straight to Dalarn.
Higgins just shook his head. Jonathan, I rarely left my charge, and I've been guarding it for a very long time, so when a mortal agent dies they would get replaced..it gets hard to keep up with it all sometimes you forget things, besides we need to see Emil Rustbeard because he the owner of the inn we will be staying at till Korialstrasz meets us there. Second, we can get a message out to your family that you are ok and doing fine.
My heart sank. I've been honestly trying not to think about them, trying not to remember how injured my father was, the look in my mother's eyes when she realised I was missing, or the non-stop crying from my sis too young to truly understand what was happening around her.
I felt a reassuring hand land on my shoulder. Higgins looked at me, concern written across his face. We will get through this, Jonathan, together. I nodded, hopping to turn the conversation to something more productive I asked. Higgins, what should we do if Deathwing has some idea of where we're headed? Higgins did not answer me right away. Instead, he transformed into his draconic form; lowering his back.
I pray that you are wrong, Jonathan, but if you are right there, we have backup plans for the backup plans, besides we have you and your 'dreams' to help out, no. I gave him a look that said I was not satisfied with his answer while I was getting on his back. Higgins just gave me a slight smirk.
Seeing me secure on his back, Higgins spread his wings and took off. Say, Higgins, how long will it take us to get to Loch Modan? Higgins hummed slightly before answering, "If we fly straight there as fast as we can, then a day, maybe a bit more. However, we will take a side route as my kind tends to cause a stir when we're noticed, so to avoid that trouble, we will increase our journey to a couple of days.
A couple days to cross the entire Badlands on dragon back, no less, by the light. I know I should have gotten used to it by now, but I can't help but feel overwhelmed by the size of what world I find myself in. You would think 16 years would be enough.
As I was stirring in my thoughts, Higgins flew off. I tightened my grip on the Dragon's Soul bag, hoping that we won't face much trouble on our way to Loch Modan but very much prepared for it.
Orgrim Doomhammer
Several days later
Orgrim Doomhammer, warchief of the Horde, was currently having a rather frustrating day or days. As he was about to march the Horde north, Orgrim had to stop as he was told that one of the most prominent Horde clans. The Dragonmaw clan had just lost their leader and his second, which meant the Horde had to stop what it was doing until this was sorted out.
Orgrim had sent Zuluhed the whacked away as the old shaman had told him he had been having visions of an artefact that could be vital for the Horde. Then the clan returned with no artefact, no leader and a slew of problems.
Funny enough, it was not the fact there were now leaderless… Well, It was still a problem, but the main one was a significant fracture of trust in the clan. During the fight with the guardian of the artefact, several orcs, well, quite more than several killed their brothers and sisters. And while yes, Orgrim and the Horde knew that its magic was the culprit, the guardian that did it was not here. While the ones who swung the axes and swords were here, so they got the blame. If left alone, the clan could implode with infighting.
Orgrim grunted as warchief he could choose the next leader for the Drangonmaw clan. While that would get him back on schedule, it did not solve the trust issue. On the other hand, leaving it to the Dragonmaw themselves reminds them of their heritage may alleviate some of the trust issues. But to ensure no further problems and maintain order, he sent one of his more trusted lieutenants to oversee the rites, and whom had just arrived to give his report.
Dragtel Deadtooth was not the tallest orc but was far musclier than your average orc. Orgrim often saw him wear simple chain mail or leather armour, often with a shield and spiked mace. Dragtel was brought to Orgrim's attention after the orc had taken control of several battles that had started to turn grim, leaders getting felled to human steel and spotting human ambushes saving countless orc lives.
To Blackhand, Dragtel was nothing more than grunt, and perhaps Orgrim would have too, but then he found himself talking with the orc himself. Although he can't pinpoint the exact memory, he came out of it with the impression that Dragtel respected the old ways and wanted the Horde to return to what it used to be instead of what it became now.
Orgrim saluted. "Throm-Ka, Dragtel, please tell me you have some good news." Dragtel saluted back. "Throm-Ka, warchief, you will be pleased, then Nekros son Nek'rosh Skullcrusher looks to be clan leader soon, and after a bit of investigating, we know where the killer of the clan leader went."
Orgrim was pleased by this news. "So tell me then, Dragtel, in what direction will the Dragonmaw's vengeance take them." Orgrim saw something that momentarily surprised him as cruelty shown in Dragtel's eyes, but only briefly. "Northeast, warchief they went Northeast." Before Orgrim could comment on what he saw, he noticed Dragtel's demeanour change from cruel to awkward.
"Theirs more isn't there." Dragtel nodded, but he looked oddly uncomfortable. To Orgrim, it almost looked like Dragtel did not know how to approach the subject. Finally, Orgrim grew tired of this farce and let his frustration be known. "Be out with what you have to say, Dragtel. I have a war to win." Dragtel froze for a second before speaking. "I think it would be better to show you my warchief."
Half an hour later
Orgrim was taken to a human mine just south of their fallen city, following Dragtel with an entourage of Orgrims best warriors behind him. Dragtel singled them to stop before taking a few more steps forward and taking an aggressive stance in front of the mine before speaking in a voice that left no room for arguments. "Come out, creature and know that you stand before Orgrim Doomhammer, warchief of the horde."
At Dragtel's declaration, Orgrim saw something move in the darkness of the entrance of the mine, and it was big. His instincts kicked in, Orgrim took a stance along with the rest of his guards, and he felt right to do so as what emerged made him tense, although he made sure it was not shown in front of his warriors and this creature.
The creature in front of him was at least twelve to fourteen feet tall, with hardened black scales that would allow the creature to shrug off arrows. The creature had a feral presence to it. Still, the unsettling gleam in its eyes indicated an intellect to it. However, despite how frightening the beast in front of Orgrim was, he noticed that the throat and underbelly looked far softer than the rest of the body.
Orgrim was the first one to break the silence. "Alright, you called for me, and here I am, so tell me, creature, what do you want from the horde." the creature looked at Orgrim like it was sizing him up before speaking. "I am not just some creature warchief. I'm a dragon named Nyxondra, and I've come before you to propose an alliance."
"You do. Do you? And what do you want in return for this? Doubt you're doing this out of the kindness of your hearts." Nyxondra chuckled a bit. It was not a pleasing thing to hear. "In short, I want the enemies of the Black Dragonflight have hunted us to near extension broken and beaten that, and I am prepared to give the horde everything they need to accomplish that."
Orgrim scoffed. "fair enough, but what could you offer the Horde if your lot is so diminished in number? It sounds like you want to use us as a shield from whatever is hunting you down." While this is fair to say Orgrim, he had little room to complain. Orgrim needed an edge against the humans.
Nyxondra huffed. "Other than the obvious war chief?" Orgrim nodded. "The Horde is prepared to face any enemy, old or new, for its allies dragon but everyone whose part of the horde does their part." Nyxondra sat down, ensuring her eyes met with the warchief. "Well, aside from allowing your warriors on top of our backs to ride into battle, we black dragons are the rulers of Azaroths caverns. It's how we can survive this long. With our tunnels, warchief, you can transport entire armies under the mountains and surprise your enemies from below." Nyxondra ended her speech with a smirk, and she would be right to cause Orgrim was impressed.
Orgrim mind raced with the possibilities. Of course, the easiest to imagine was the ability to go into human lands and attack them before they even get a chance to prepare, but theirs a logistic issue to address. "Alright, Nyxondra, let's say I believe your boost, the horde, as you can see, aren't made of just a hundred soldiers or thousand no were hundred thousand strong, so tell me how many of my warriors can use your tunnels." Orgrim tried to attempt to sound natural, but it was getting harder to ignore the benefits here. Speeding his forces through the mountain could compensate for the several days he lost staying here. No, even better, the Horde could attack the human before they can set up their forces.
Nyxondra smiles. "First, war chief, you woefully underestimate how big the carvens below Azorath are. Secondly, as I said before, warchief, we black dragons have an affinity with magics that deal with the elements of earth and fire that can mould the earth around us to create the tunnels we need, elemental magic, I might add, that can be taught."
Orgrim scuffed. "You'll find teaching us hard, Nyxondra. Unfortunately, the orcs lost their ability for shamanistic magic before the portal was created. The only magic allowed to the orcs now is fel magics." Nyxrodra ummed. "Don't worry, warchief. It's not that the orcs lost their ability to command the elements more the methods the orcs need to use the elements of Azeroth need to change."
Orgrim squinted his eyes. "Explain, dragon," Orgrim said in a tone that, while not aggressive, left no room for jokes. Nyxondra shrugged. "It's simple, warchief. The elements of Azeroth will not respond to simple requests for aid like some whelp." Nyxondra rose back up but ensured she still made eye contact with Orgrim. "You must dominate the elements of Azeroth for them to come to your aid, warchief."
"And you can teach us these ways. Teach the Horde how to make the elements of Azeroth respect us." Orgrim said, trying to sound indifferent as best he could. However, some excitement was internally stirring inside Orgrim, a way to get even a slither of the orc's old shamanistic power. He could remind his people of their old honour.
However, before Orgrim was going to give his answer, one thing had to be asked. "I have to admit, if what you say is true, your flight and your gifts would be a great addition to the Horde; however, we both know that nothing is free, so tell me, what does Nyxondra of the Black Dragonflight want from the Horde or is it all you want is the Horde protection."
"There is. I want serval clutches of eggs to be nested beyond the dark portal to be kept safe, under your protection."
Orgrim considered this. On the surface, it was not a bad idea. If the dragon and her brood were being hunted down, hoping worlds would keep them safe. However, such an idea had problems. "I could allow that, but it would not be as safe as you think, Nyxondra, Draenor. Our home is a dying world. It's one of the reasons why we came to this one to be able to feed our families."
Nyxondra nodded. "That's ok, warchief. It will only be a temporary measure. The other flights have butchered our defenceless whelps in the past even when they have not hatched yet either." as Nyxondra continued, her voice started to grow angrier. Orgrim did not take offence. In fact, he was expecting it as he was getting the impression that Nyxondra was an emotional creature and hoped that the rest of her flight was not as sensative He needed more level heads like Dragtel, for example.
Before the dragon got out of hand, Orgrim spoke sternly, demanding full attention. "Ok, Nyxondra, I have come to my decision." the dragon stopped her growls, going silent. Orgrim continued. "I accept your proposal Nyxondra. As long as you and yours do your part, the black dragonflight can count the Horde as their allies. Their enemies are the Horde's enemies."
The dragon's eye gleamed. "You will not regret this decision. I'll depart immediately and send word to the rest of the flight. In a few hours from now, warchief, you will have an army of dragons by your side."
Orgrim nodded. "Best you go as fast as you can. The Horde will need to move as soon as possible if we are to take the humans off guard." the dragon smiled something cruel before turning and heading back into the cave, disappearing utterly into the cave's darkness.
After a few moments, Orgrim saw Dragtel walk towards him. "Dragtel, what do you think of our new allies?" Dragtel turned to look back at the mine and gave a quick hum before turning back to Orgrim. "They seemed mighty, and if they could provide even half of what they promised. It could be what wins this war for the Horde."
Orgrim considered what Dragtel was saying he spoke. "True, but do you think Nyxondra can be trusted?" Dragtel stopped for a few seconds considering what to say. "Yes, War chief, I do. She sounded desperate to join the Horde, almost like her life depended on it. Whoever our new allies' foes are, they have pushed the Black dragons to desperation, and I believe we can trust in that. How much that value is up to you, warchief."
"I can see how you got that impression. Of course, Nyxondra offered everything we needed and more, but it was more anger than desperation that almost came across that she was insulted that she had to ask for our help." Dragtel shrugged. "So as long as she helps the Horde win the war, I don't think it matters." Orgrim agreed, but he promised to keep an eye on the dragon. Besides, Nyxondra could not be as treacherous as Guldan.
As Orgrim contemplated the future, Dragtel spoke, "Warchief, If I may speak, I have a suggestion." Orgrim considered this strange. Very rarely did Dragtel spoke his mind. Orgrim wondered what brought this on, but then again, this was a peculiar day. "Out with it then, my friend. Speak your mind."
"I suggest we get reinforcements, warchief. So more of our brothers and sisters are ready for the fight like the Warsong and shattered hand clans. Call them over. Best them fighting our enemies than fighting each other." Dragtel said with far more passion than Orgrim was used to.
Orgrim considered this. In truth, Orgrim saw the wisdom in what Dragtel was saying. Having more reinforcements is always welcome; however aside of the logistical issues, orcs are a race that is always searching for both a good fight and weakness in their leaders, and if he added more clans who had no idea that he had killed backhand and taken control of the Horde. It would not surprise him if Orgrim's leadership were challenged doing these tense moments of the war where every moment counts. Orgrim shook his head.
"No, not at this time. I get the logic, but we have enough allies, and there is no need to complicate it further." Orgrim said firmly. However, as he said this, he looked at Dragtel's eyes, and there was something about them, but Orgrim couldn't quite understand what it was before he could think about it more. Dragtel spoke again, but there was nothing familiar about it. "No, war chief, you want to give the order to get reinforcements from the Warsong and Shattered Hand clans. After all, you have no idea what you might be facing. Humans are cunning, after all."
Thinking about it more, Orgrim could not help but agree with Dragtel. The human's proved themselves resourceful opponents, and he could not benefit from underestimating them. "y..your right, Dragtel? The humans might come up with something we did not prepare. Let it be heard the Orgrim Doomhammer warchief of the Horde orders the Warsong and Shattered Hand clans to join our war."
"I'll see to it at once, warchief." Dragtel simply stated. Orgrim nodded, happy to be done with it all. He was suddenly getting a strange headache; it was not just him but his guards as well. Orgrim righted himself it was not suitable for a leader to show weakness even in front of those he trusted.
Orgrim returned to the main encampment with his guards and Dragtel walking behind them. If Dragtel were walking beside Orgrim, the warchief would have noticed the cruel smile the orc was wearing, if only for a second before Dragtel, no Deathwing returned to his stoic role as an orc war hero.
Next Deathwing cook up some trouble for our heros
Also going to update the character info soon, after I got to bed and get some sleep.
NightfallNefarian
Nefarian, the eldest son of Deathwing, stared into his notes for the past several weeks. Months? Maybe even years, and sighed in frustration. In front of him was an alchemical workstation littered with exotic materials taken from Eastern Kingdoms, Northrend, Kalimdor and everywhere in between, books containing recipes and spells that would make any elf or Dalaran mage water at the mouth for, and yet in front of this treasure-trove of knowledge all Nefarian could do was feel disappointed.
See, the task Nefarian had given himself was to find some way of efficiently replenishing the numbers of the black dragonflight. The answer to least to him was to enhance the effect of black dragon blood on subjects that drank it. It was not a secret that upon drinking dragon blood, one becomes bound to that dragon, their mind enslaved with thoughts of loyalty or love. With continued exposure, the bound in question would find their body start to mutate to become either a Dragonspwan or Dragonoid.
Of course, every dragon knew this. However, for Nefarian, he needed to turn it into a science. He needed to know, for instance, how to turn an 800-year-old red dragon with a 100% success rate, granted his recent test subject, a human male, was less impressive. Still, even humans are not guaranteed to have similar conversion rates. For instance, the human before Nefarian was just a farmer with a wife. It took the man at least two seasons of drinking Nefarian's blood to be bound. This would not be as insulting if the man in question were a warrior or a mage. Still, the man was nothing more than a farmer, less than a bug.
The man in question, Nefarian, who never bothered to learn his name, was starting to show signs of becoming a Dragonoid. Nefarian again sighed. If he could not even get a consistent conversion rate on mortals, how did he expect to get one of his kind to turn? He turned his towards the man still restrained on his table. The restraints, of course, were no longer needed, and the male was now wholly his servant.
"Nefarian", a dark, gravelly voice spoke out, echoing in his vast underground laboratory. The dragon turned to see what looked to be a dark tear, in reality, showing on the other side a green-skinned orc inside some primitive dwelling; however, that was no orc but Deathwing, his father.
"Yes, Father, what do you need of me." Nefarian
had to be very careful when talking to his father. You had, for instance, to always look him in the eyes but never look like you were challenging him. You also had to be smaller than him but not too small after all. Deathwing children can not be seen as weak by Deathwing or anyone else.
Nefarian was thankful that his father's new form was taller than him. Still, to be safe, he tilted his head downward but kept eye contact with his father. "You are to retrieve the Dragon Soul for me," Deathwing stated, not noticing or not caring about the ritual that Nefarian had to go through to ensure his safety around his father.
Nefarian was about to blurt out that fault was made on his father's part, which would likely get him killed. Best to rearrange his phrasing. "I take it the savage primitives failed to meet your expectations, Father," Deathwing grunted. "Even with everything working for them, it's impressive that they managed to disappoint. However, nothing that can't be fixed; hence, while I'm calling on you, Nefarian, to hurry to Loch Modan, Orastrasz will be arriving there in a day or so. Get the Dragon Soul, then bring it to me."
He kept himself composed, ensuring his tone was not condescending. "It will be done," Deathwing grunted. "See that it is, and Neferian do not. Fail. Me." With his message made clear, the dark tear disappeared. Neferian gulped.
The black dragon had to think quickly. It's going to be a tight schedule. If he hurries, Nefarian and his forces could get to Loch Modan in about half a day as the black dragonflight naturally affinity with the earth allows them to navigate the tunnels and caverns of Azeroth underground with ease still, the problem of who will be able to handle the Dragon Soul going to need to be addressed.
Nefarian did not have to think for long for a solution to come to mind. With his recent acquisition as one of his captured victims, Nefarian considered her. to be of a higher stock, and he has not experimented on her yet with dragon blood. Ordering one of his guards to get the person in question, he soon found himself in the eyesight of a woman, who paled when she saw the state of the man.
"Geroge!" The woman yelled. Nefarian rolled his eyes at the dramatics of the women. Nefarian approached the woman wearing a bard's smile before he spoke nonchalantly. "Greetings, Dina. While it may strain your faculties of belief, I find myself in need of your… assistance, shall we say? Rest assured, our mutual cooperation in this matter could yield advantages for both parties involved."
The woman, named Dina, turned to the dragon. Finally noticing his presence, she trembled, her voice coming out rough. "H… how… In anyway co… could I do anything for you." Nefarian answered the girl with little fanfare, ignoring the girl's obvious distress. "I'm glad you asked. See, The object of my desire is but a mere trinket, yet one that eludes my grasp due to the inherent limitations of my lineage, which is where you come in." Nefarian ensured his following words were spoken as clearly as possible, ensuring Dina heard every word.
"So here's the deal: You shall accompany my retinue and me in securing the coveted trinket. Your task shall be to procure it, promptly delivering it into my possession. And I will release you and your husband. I will even restore him to his previous state, while a trifling matter for one of my abilities is, of course, contingent upon your compliance… So what do you say." the dragon said, his words in a honeyed tone.
Whether the dragon's honeyed words or Dina's desperation to escape this nightmare, she could only weakly submit to the dragon's demands and nod in defeat.
Nefarian's lips curled upward in a sly grin before he brought his hands together in a slow, deliberate clap. "Well done, my dear," he purred, his gaze appraising her with a scrutinizing frown. "It appears some preparations are in order. We shall see to it that you are properly attired and equipped for the undertaking at hand."
He met her eyes again. "So this is what you got to do."
Jonathan
Not much was said between the old man and me in the last couple of days while we flew over the badlands. The only thing we said between us was "Good morning" and "Wants for breakfast." I feel weird having such a quiet morning compared to my family's loud ones. Well, mostly, the loudness came from my sister.
Jonathan, I'm heading down now. We're arriving at the edge of Loch Modan.
Higgins's voice woke me from my musing, and I noticed the signs of green from where we were flying. However, I wasn't given enough time to admire the scenery as I felt us decent, and before I knew what was going on, I was on the ground, and Higgins was in his human form. From where we landed, it will be about an hour or two on foot to enter Loch Modan.
Turning to Higgins. So what's the plan, old man? How will we explain the Dragon Soul if the local guards question us?
Nothing to worry about, Jonathan. For all its power, it's nothing more than a very large trinket. Higgins said casually, not giving me a glace before moving towards our goal.
Keeping up with him, I said. Ummm, old man, I can't help but feel like we are not exactly dressed in clothes that say we should be carrying around something expensive, and the Dragon Soul sure looks expensive.
Higgins didn't look back at me when he responded cheerfully as he stroked his bread. Calm yourself, Jonathan. They will be far more interested in the news we bring than the items we carry.
I can't say that did not depress me more. How long do you think the dwarfs have before the Horde get to Loch Modan?
Hmmm, about 2 or 3 days, maybe a few more days. If they're lucky, it will be close, but they should be fine, so as long as the dwarfs of Thelsamar leave soon and find shelter within the halls of Ironforge, they will be fine. Higgins said, his more cheerful tone replaced with a more sombre one.
It still feels like a close finish. Higgins nodded, walking beside me and placing his hand on my shoulder. Remember, calm, stress, and worry will only cost us mistakes we can not afford. I turned to him, eyebrow raised. You know, old man saying things like that does not help the nerves.
Higgins Chuckled, taking on the tone of a caring grandfather. My apologies. It has been a while since I have had a conversation. I gave Higgins a sceptical look. Okay, old man, no need to start treating me like a child that needs a cuddle.
Higgins laughed. Hey, old man, can I ask you a question? Higgins stopped laughing and answered with a simple hmmm. I took that as an indication to continue. What did you do before becoming the guardian? Higgins raised an eyebrow. Where did that come from all of a sudden?
I shrugged. I want to distract myself; besides, I would like to know more about you, old man. You're a mystery in Lakeshire. Most people think you're either a pirate, smuggler, or outlaw.
Higgins looked non-pulsed. Jonathan, you said the same thing three different times. Higgins said in a deadpan tone. I shrugged at him before he continued. You would think if the villagers thought I was some sort of scoundrel, they would have chased me out.
Well, if it makes you feel better, old man, they did make you on the more noble outlaw side, like you had to kill your superior officer or noble cause. They were a corrupt bastard. Higgins huffed. Where did any of you get these ideas?
Stories started to appear after you helped the guards fight off the gnolls way back when. Higgins ummed. Well, okay, but sadly, my life is a lot more boring than you're going to want to hear, as most of it has been stuck in that cave, but I suppose one of my claim to fame was my part in the war in the shifting sands.
Confused, I asked. Wait, I thought you've been guarding the dragon soul since the war of the ancients. Higgins shook his head lightly. No, Jonathan, I was the third. The first guardian retired, the second was killed, I volunteered, and here we are.
Interestingly, the only guardian my past life knows about is the old man. As I was musing on this, Higgins spoke up again. Come now, Jonathan, let's not waste any more time and get to Thelsamar. When our conversation ended, we doubled our pace to reach our destination. Soon, the dry, barren wasteland gave away to green fields and lush trees. Soon, we found ourselves on a stone-cobbled road, and not long after that, Higgins and I encountered a dwarf patrol.
Let me do the talking, Jonathan, ok. I nodded, taking a look at the dwarfs. There were two of them. The first was a man dressed in mountaineer gear with a Mace and shield, a greying thick braids moustache and ornate bread. The second, a young-looking female, had the same equipment but traded the sword and shield with a wicked-looking axe and crossbow. Both of them looked at us with curiosity. Both of the dwarfs were riding massive rams.
Before either dwarf could get a word in, Higgins took on a solemn look. "Greetings, dwarfs of Loch Modan. I need to head to Magistrate Bluntnose and inform him of a threat that is about to decent on Thelsamar." The two dwarfs stopped, worry now mixing with curiosity. The male dwarf spoke first. "Aye, now that's a hearty way to greet a traveler! Be ye'll pardon me skepticism." The older dwarf sized up Higgins, but his expression changed when he looked at me the next time he spoke softer. "But Pebblebitty and meself can guide ye straight to Thelsamar if that be yer destination."
"Thank you kindly, Henry P. Higgins, at your service," Higgins said sincerely. The older dwarf nodded. "Granin", he spoke candidly, turned his ram to the side so that Higgins could get on, and I did the same with Pebblebitty's ram. After I got on and we headed off, Pebblebitty spoke up for the first time. "So, what's befallen ye, lad? Ye look like ye've not had a proper meal in weeks; all skin and bones, ye are," she said softly.
I shuffled in my seat, trying to get comfortable as best I could. How much do you think I should say, old man?
As much as you are comfortable with my boy, don't say anything about our charge, and we should be fine.
Clearing my throat before I spoke. "Some green creatures ravaged my home of Lakeshire. We had to evacuate my home, but I was left behind. Higgins found me, promising to take me back to my family." I amazed myself that I spoke this clearly. Despite how much it hurt, I still remember the flames of that night. Pebblebitty talked to me again, but I missed the first part while I was lost in my musings. "Ach, lad, be it them trolls, aye? Ye Stormwindians had a war with trolls down in Stranglethorn Vale, didn't ye? Might this be their way of seekin' revenge for the last war ye had?"
I shook my head. "My family taught me and my sister what a troll is; however, these creatures were far bulkier. Hmm… if I recall, I heard one of the soldiers call them orcs when we were evacuating." The last part was untrue, or I don't think it was true. Things went too fast for me to focus on what everyone was saying. I had my goal and put myself on autopilot.
At that time, Granin spoke, "Oy, lad, how in the blazes did ye manage to make it out if ye were left behind like that?" there was nothing malicious in the question. In fact, the older dwarf said it with concern. Even so, I felt a drop of sweat go down my back. "I hid. The… orcs came in rampaged, but they were more looking for food and supplies than one boy." The older dwarf ummed. "Aye, that be true, lad, but…"
"As much as I can understand your want to find out more, perhaps leave the questions for when the boy has had some food, drink, maybe a bath first," Higgins interjected.
Thanks, old man, I thought to Higgins, hoping my relief did not show on my face. Don't worry about it, Jonathan. Gult, now mixed with worry on Granin's face. "Sorry, lad, didn't mean to sound brash. Henry's got a point, tho. Let's find ye a good meal." I shook my head. "No harm done, Granin. Honestly, a good soup would not be so bad right now." Granin gave me a nod, a bit more relaxed now.
All of us became quiet after that. I can imagine that to the dwarfs, the longer I and the old man were around them, the reality of the threat of the Horde became all the more real to them. For Higgins and me being so close to our destination, well, it soon felt like if I said anything, I would screw it all up somehow, stupid I know, couldn't say it got better even when we saw the lights of Thelsamar in the distance.
God dame, this took a while go next time, for sure, big battle fight with all that good stuff
Last edited: Oct 2, 2023