Merry Christmas my readers! Did I surprise you by posting even on today? I hope my pattern has grown obvious enough to have seen coming... Yes I nearly forgot, but to be fair family things would have distracted me regardless. Better late than never though, right? Still, here is the next chapter as we proceed, merrily, on with the story! ~F

Chapter Sixty Seven

Modifications

Voldemort dodged yet another screaming scarlet zealot who rushed him, using his sizable advantage in strength to throw the human backward into a group of his allies. The others were desperately fighting to clear the way behind him, but Voldemort was growing impatient. The end of the archive was nearing, and he could see the flicker of flames in that direction. The humans, seeing that they were about to be overrun, were trying to destroy all the collected knowledge in order to deny the undead what they had gathered.

Charging ahead, bashing through the lines of soldiers that tried to bar his way, Voldemort channeled the magic of death around him, the former Dark Lord of Britain leeched vitality and power from those foes around him, making them wither and fall to the ground. "Push forward, they're destroying the library!" he shouted at those bringing up the rear.

Truncheon slamming into those still ahead, Voldemort pushed on once more, erupting out of the last line of scarlet clad warriors and entering the final library chamber.

The last man standing there, an older human with a large crystal-topped staff, paused in sparking a flame in the center of the room to turn as Voldemort skidded to a halt, "You will not defile these mysteries!" he roared, unleashing a blast of flame at the Death Knight, who dodged to the side.

Voldemort cast the killing curse, but the old human was quicker than he appeared, and spun out of the way, before through a hand to the ceiling, "Burn in righteous fire!" he chanted, causing a pillar of flame to cascade down from above.

Voldemort was surprised that it actually harmed him, as next to nothing previously encountered in this place actually was a threat to him, but the fire magic, mixed with some of the Light that the crusaders were so fond of, did little to hinder him as he rushed forward to the old mage, grabbing him physically with skeletal limbs and twisting until the arm holding the staff broke with a loud snapping sound.

The old man screamed in pain, unaccustomed to such brutality, and sagged as Voldemort threw him aside, the staff now in his hand as the dark lord examined the magical properties of the item. They were lesser than his own implement, due to the soul magic that empowered it and linked it to Voldemort very being, so he causally tossed the item aside.

The mage hadn't learned his lesson however, and shot more flames with his only good hand, propped against a bookshelf to stay upright as he attacked.

Voldemort lashed out with the frozen cold of the grave, allowing the icy magic to extinguish the flames and continue on, blasting the old man with snow and cold until rigor set in from the freezing flesh on him.

By then the others finished with those outside the chamber and entered, Norward immediately heading for a large footlocker in the corner, while the others checked for signs of life in the old man.

Jadyn whistled, "Tom, I have to say I am impressed at your skill, I didn't think that such a powerful mage would just be waiting around the ruins of Lordaeron."

Voldemort said nothing, turning to look at the collection of books, written in various languages that were unrecognizable to him, and a small scattering that were. The translation spells that Potter had taught them worked well enough for spoken and written speech, but he had to have some understanding about another language to modify it to another language altogether.

Still, there were several of the books in the room were of interest, for other reasons, and Voldemort took care to collect these for himself, even as Norward open the footlocker, whistling in excitement as he pull out a set of scarlet colored keys, "the master keys for the Monastery," he declared holding them up triumphantly.

"So we can clear out the entire place in one go then," Elden said, sounding somewhat excited at the prospect.

"I might need to get back to the Undercity…" Voldemort said, growing tired of their company, and wishing to investigate the books that he had found in greater detail before the other party returned from the Badlands.

"There might be more knowledge hidden in the Cathedral…" Melody said, smirking as Voldemort turned to her, eyes narrowing. He knew the tempting position that she had intentionally thrown at him, and the fact was that he would join them for it.

"Fine, if only to check for that, I suppose I can be distracted for a small time longer…" he relented, seeing that while they had the keys he couldn't advance to the Cathedral on his own for his personal goals. For the time being therefore, he was still allied with them.

"Excellent!" Jadyn said, "Let's backtrack to the main foray and investigate that other passage, just to make sure that nothing tries to sneak up behind us as we delve deeper."

Sighing inwardly, Voldemort followed as they returned to the central area of the monastery, desperately ignoring the fact that they were foregoing the two locked doors that clearly were the directions they he wanted to go, and progressed across to the other chamber, which led down into what seemed to be the basement of the monastery, growing darker and less illuminated as they progressed.

Sneaking ahead slightly to see their way, Voldemort glanced into the next room, gritting his teeth at the smell of burning flesh. Technically he didn't smell the sensation, but he could imagine what it ought to have been, given what he was seeing.

Several figures with crimson hoods over their heads were standing over a table, whereupon another was bound down with iron manacles and chains. The lead man, holding a flaming poker over the bound figure, was whispering incoherently to his victim, even as he proceeded with the torment that clearly was meant to persuade the other figure to reveal information.

Personally, Voldemort would want to learn more of what was going on from the shadows, but if it meant leaving as swiftly as possible, he dispensed with his usual preferences and stepped out into the relative light. This attracted the attention of all involved, and the mean leader grinned at the dark cloaked form, "Tell me… tell me everything!" he said aloud, pointing the poker at Voldemort, even as his underlings rushed at the Death Knight.

As the others moved to intercept the fools that rushed their position, Voldemort sidestepped, clearing the way before him to the lead man, who had returned to tormenting his prisoner, so confident in his underling's ability that he nearly didn't react when the Death Knight rushed him. The poker seemed to be not only his tool of choice, but a weapon that he was competent with, as he brought it around to deflect the attacking truncheon.

What the man clearly hadn't expected was the sheer strength behind the blow, which knocking the weapon from his hand, as well as sending the interrogator flying backward into one of the many pillars that littered the chamber. Sparing only a single glance at the poor soul that was upon the rack, some corpse that still shifted and looked up pitifully as the Dark Lord moved away.

"Such filthy secrets…" the scarlet interrogator hissed threateningly, recovering his heavily bent weapon and stalking around several of the pillars, hoping to catch the dark lord off guard, but Voldemort wasn't about to allow that to happen. A blast of death magic rocketed from the crystal topped scepter in his hand, and Voldemort relished the look of shock and horror that crossed the inquisitor face shortly before he fell dead.

The others went to the tormented undead immediately, but Voldemort did not care. Moving onward toward the passage beyond, he started up the stairs, hoping to gain a bit of distance to really let loose his powers over life and death without these fools holding him back.

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Draco was pleased to be heading off somewhere more civilized than his previous mission. From what Nobu'tan had told him about the city of Stormwind, it was rather pleasant, and his parents had settled the rest of their people in very well.

Just the concept of leaving the ash-coated and barren waste that was the Burning Steppes for the lush forests just south of their realm was a fresh change of scenery, which breathed life back into Draco's world. Granted, he would be making one little stop before going to Stormwind proper: Goldshire.

He could scarcely push Pansy from his mind since Nobu'tan mentioned that she had inquired of him. Their interest in each other, minute as it had been in their Hogwarts years, due to her lack of motivation regarding the Order of the Black Harvest had peaked when she realized that they indeed were following through on their insane plan to leave earth forever and go on to a better world.

While not a full member of the Order yet, she was still quite a promising warlock, and Draco didn't want to think of what she would be capable of when she finally attained a level of mastery that the others had achieved.

Even as he approached the outskirts of the village, he immediately could sense her presence. Riding up to the center of the town, Draco pinpointed where it was coming from, and entered the tavern, glancing across the packed room until he found Pansy.

She was, surprising, hard at work delivering mugs of ale to the patrons of the tavern, and generally being the social butterfly that she was. It was not a position that Draco had imagined that the rather high strung girl would be in, but it seemed that many of the Purebloods had accepted that their lives of wealth and idleness were past, and that they needed to work for a living now.

Still, it was rather amusing, and he smirked as a sinister little trick popped into his mind. Keeping the hood of his cloak up, he fully entered, dropping several coins down onto the bar for a drink, he sat back in a far corner of the bar and just waited.

Soon enough, Pansy bustled over to him, all smiles and cheer, which was her normal mask as she brought his drink to his table. "Here you are Mr. Mysterious…" she said teasingly, winking at him even though she could not see who he was, "perhaps it'll warm you up this chilling afternoon and you'll take that cloak off for all to see who you really are."

Catching her hand as she turned to leave, Draco pulled her closer; despite her small yelp of surprise, but before her other hand came up to strike him, Draco looked up and allowed he hood to fall back, "Pansy," he said, and her eyes burst into tear of surprise and joy.

"Oh Draco!" she yelled for the entire room to hear, and he swept her up into his arms, standing and spinning her around once to the cheers and whistles of the many men in the room. She was giggling uncontrollably when he set her down, and the tavern keeper clapped loudly among the others when Draco glanced over, the man nodding and gesturing for them to go and have some time to themselves.

Smiling in return, Draco pulled Pansy gently by the hand, leading her out of the inn and out into the windy sunlight.

"Draco, I had never thought that you'd come so soon. You cannot know how happy this makes me," she said sweetly, smiling at him.

"Well, if you think that's good, we're going to go visit my parents for the day. I get the feeling your boss will not mind if you disappear for the rest of the day…" Draco replied, even as she smirked in return.

"Oh, Farley? No, I doubt that would be the case either, he knows quite well how long I've waited for you to show up."

"Well, in that case…" Draco said, swooping in to capture the girl's lips. Pansy gasped at the forthrightness that Draco expressed, which until now had been so very retrained in their relationship.

While she was distracted, Draco swept her up onto his horse, mounting behind her and taking off for Stormwind proper, Pansy throwing her arms around him while she sat sidesaddle.

The guards at the city allowed them entry without question, some even smirking at the clear adoration between the two young lovers. Nobu'tan had informed Draco with the rough location of his parents' home, and so he steered the horse expertly through the populated trade district, turning to the left toward the large magical tower that brimmed with Arcane energy.

It wasn't difficult to locate the one building with the magic of earth radiating around it, and Draco smiled as he noticed his mother's personal style and magical signature on the flowers, various kinds from their home world spread across planters and in tasteful arrangements.

Dismounting gracefully, he led the horse, with Pansy still riding upon it, as close as he could to the door, and knocked gently, waiting with terse anticipation as movement within heralded the arrival of his mother at the door.

"Draco…" she breathed, the emotion rushing through her and surprising radiating off of her face as she enveloped her son in her arms.

"Hello mother," Draco said, standing straighter as she released him. Pansy slipped from the back of the horse and approached to stand with Draco, curtseying to the Lady Malfoy and receiving a warm smile in return.

"It is actually a good time that you've come," Narcissa said, gesturing for them both to come in, waving her wand openly at the horse, the reins in Draco's hand slipped out of his grasp, tying themselves to a nearby post, and a bag of feed appeared to be quickly strapped to the horse, which happily started to eat.

She led them both through the entry and into a back sitting room, complete in all the comfort that a wizard home could afford, even if it lacked the luxury that Draco remembered from his childhood.

Gesturing for them to sit in the one loveseat, Narcissa watched with a small smile as both Pansy and Draco made themselves comfortable, then sat in a chair that Draco recognized as clearly her own, etched with runes of the Black Family.

"The Prince has been eagerly waiting to meet you for some time," Narcissa said, which surprised and puzzled Draco. What had his mother been up to in the time he had been gone? Pansy seemed to know a bit more, as she smiled widely at the comment, "You've been very active in Stormwind Keep as of late, haven't you, Lady Malfoy," she said.

"Oh yes," Narcissa admitted, "between making sure that our people are settled, and then with the Prince, it has been a very productive time, and I've learned quite a bit in the process."

Then, noticing the confused look on her son's face, Narcissa started back at the beginning, slowly explaining many of the events since the two groups of wizards had split so long ago. It was very enthralling, Draco admitted, all the political maneuvering that his mother had become involved with, including the recent return of the King and the strange behavior of the royal advisor.

"If there is time, I'm sure that the Prince would welcome a visit from the three of us," Narcissa added at the end of her story, smiling warmly. Draco could tell that neither woman really care what was taking place, just basking in the rightness of Draco being back in their lives, for somewhat different reasons, yet very much the same concepts.

"And what about you Draco?" Pansy asked, taking lead in steering the conversation, "What have you been up to, helping Lord Nobu'tan in the northern regions?"

Draco knew that there would be little in details that he could mention, for security reasons, but he was able to give a brief overview of what was changing in the volcanic regions above, and without too much of the brutal details, he commented lightly on the gathering of allies, and sending out scouts to look into the regions across the ocean.

"You've been to the other continent?" Pansy asked, in awe of his travels, "What was it like? Are they really that different from humans?"

"About as different as you can get, at least on initial contact," Draco said, "but after a short time, you can start to see the similarities, the orcs and their people are very much an honorable folk, and they value strength and bravery above all else. They are not a violent people by nature, unless needed to be, but as the strong are the ones who lead, there can be some measure of struggle for power. It's something to truly behold and respect."

Pansy snuggled closer to him, resting her head on his shoulder, "I would love to see it someday; it sounds completely unbelievable and exotic."

"Perhaps someday," Draco replied, smiling down at her before turning back to his mother, who was watching the pair of them as any mother would, with warm affection for the young woman who would eventually be her daughter-in-law.

"You must be tired and hungry from your long journey, Draco," Narcissa said after a few moments, rising from her chair, "I'll get something for you to eat, and perhaps after a time of resting we can go and visit the Keep. You won't believe how alike the Prince is to you when you were younger. It was hard not to call him by your name often, both your father and I dote on him immensely."

She started from the room, but paused, bringing a hand to her midsection.

"Mother?" Draco asked, concerned at the surprised expression on Narcissa's face. But it smoothed out just as quickly.

"It's nothing to be concerned about," she said, smiling once again as she exited the room.

The pair sat in silence for a bit longer, just relishing being together, but soon Pansy commented, "The glow makes your mother all the more beautiful."

"What?" Draco asked, slightly undignified in his abrupt confusion. What prompted that question?

She looked at him, "You couldn't tell?"

"Tell what?" Draco asked, starting to feel stupid.

Pansy hit him in the arm, "You're mother is glowing, you fool. That means that she's pregnant."

The silence after that statement felt like an eternity. Draco's mind went blank. He had never before asked why he didn't have any siblings, but he had guessed that there was some sort of reason. Why his parents had decided now to have more children, he didn't know.

Narcissa returned at that moment, and Draco rose to meet her, taking the small tray from her hands and setting it aside. "Mother?" he asked, looking in her eyes for confirmation.

Narcissa, who had clearly overheard their small aside, smiled, and Draco could see it, the radiance that surged forth from her, magical in nature but different from their inherent powers.

"This… this is wonderful…" Draco said, quickly becoming overwhelmed by the emotion invoked by understanding this miracle happening in their lives. "Do you know anything regarding him or her?"

"Not yet, it's too soon," Narcissa replied, walking over and embracing Draco once more, "but it is the happiest thing to happen for us since arriving in this world. You father and I have always wanted more children, most Purebloods do, but there are complications that had to be factored in, but now, we know that it's more than possible here, with so much more ambient magic in this world."

They returned to their seats, urged on by Narcissa, and partook in the small lunch that she had prepared for them in near silence. Draco was still unable to fully articulate his feelings, and more or less went through the motions of consuming food, lost in those over the possibilities of having a younger sibling very soon.

Afterward, Narcissa put on a light cloak around her shoulders, and urged them all out the door and back onto the road, bypassing the Trade District in favor of the canals that linked the various sections of the city to each other.

Soon enough they had walked across the distance of the city toward the inner Keep. Draco was once more surprised that the guards did not even look at them, merely nodding at his mother and permitting heir entry to the innermost section of the city. It was a testament to her aura of authority, in any situation or place.

Following closely, and listening to Pansy commenting in awe of the decorations leading up through the building, Narcissa led them up to the private rooms of the royals, and knocked upon a wooden door, which was opened by a servant.

"My Prince, Lady Malfoy is here to visit you." The maid said, smiling at Narcissa with a knowing look. Draco suddenly felt very foolish for not being able to notice the difference in his mother immediately.

Now that he knew, it was clear as day that she carried herself differently. The maid clearly heard something from within, as she held the door open for them to enter, and Draco stepped through to find himself in what looked like a study, aside from a handful of more child-sized items, weapons and makeshift toys scattered about as any child would have.

"Anduin," Narcissa said, drawing Draco's and Pansy's attention toward the sole occupant of the room, a boy of about Hogwarts age, with dirty blonde hair and intelligent blue eyes. "Allow me to introduce my son, Draco, and his fiancé Pansy Parkinson."

Understanding that he was indeed in the presence of royalty, despite the boy's tender age, Draco bowed elegantly, even as Pansy curtsied, seeming somewhat uncomfortable in her work clothes to be meeting the Prince.

For his part, Anduin looked actually excited to meet Draco, walking up and shaking his hand. "Lady Malfoy has told me so very much about you," he said graciously, and bowing in return to Pansy.

"Good things, I hope," Draco replied, earning a chuckle from the young boy.

"Naturally," Narcissa said, playfully swatting the back of Draco's head, something that she would only do in company that she trusted implicitly.

"I've heard that you, and you father are participating in some sort of important job on the outskirts of our boarders," the boy said casually, "I was wondering if there was more that you could elaborate regarding that. Perhaps I could persuade my father to lend you the aid of the Stormwind Knights, and end whatever conflict it is quickly."

Draco was impressed. Aside from the blunt fishing for knowledge, it was a well reasoned and explained offer, and if not for the truth regarding those matters, it would be something that any reasonable person would have deeply considered.

"I think we've got it covered, but I thank you for the offer, my Prince," he said, ruffling the young boy's hair affectionately. It was plain to see what his parents found so endearing about the boy. He was similar to Draco when he was very young, before Hogwarts and meeting Lord Nobu'tan.

The boy Prince looked like he would pursue the matter further, but just then the door opened. "Anduin, are you ready for our… Oh, I wasn't aware you had company," said a voice from the door.

Draco, Pansy and Narcissa turned, and the warlock widened his eyes when he realized that the other person entering was the King of Stormwind, Varian Wrynn himself.

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Nobu'tan was pleased that Lucius had returned to them at Blackrock, shortly after his own son had departed for Stormwind to visit his mother, and love interest. The additional fact that the man seemed to be in an extremely good mood was an added bonus, as there was lots of work to be done in strategy, and Nobu'tan valued the Pureblood's opinion on their battle plans to secure a port to the ocean near to the mountain.

"As you can see Luicus, the Wetlands makes the only sense in relation to our position," he said, going over their plans for about the twentieth time, as their information continued to change and morph as new warriors poured in from various sources. And it was likely that they would change again at least once more, as Teg'Ramm had finally requested the authority to return to the Blasted Lands and enlist the ogres there into the Horde, by force if needed, to add more powerful warriors and magi to their ranks, which he had allowed.

But the older wizard just shook his head, as he had so many times when Nobu'tan tried to push the argument of assaulting Menethil Harbor and taking the northern region completely for their faction. "It's strategically weak. The same problems you seek to exploit will be easily used against you the moment that our enemies want it back. We need to look elsewhere."

"I don't hear any other suggestions Lucius, just reasons why the only option won't work," Nobu'tan shot back, growing frustrated. They had had this back and forth several times now, and Nobu'tan was growing impatient to strike back against their enemies, and expands their territory to a new base. The Harbor was already built, had a functional dock, and would deprive their enemies in Stormwind of their northernmost outpost.

"You won't like it, but there is another option, that would cost much less in terms of manpower to take control of, however more in resources to build our own shipyard…" Lucius began, and Nobu'tan narrowed his eyes. They had precious little lumber to go into building their own docks and ships, which he had jealously horded for what uses they absolutely needed.

However, he would at least hear out the other man for his plan, "go on…" he said.

Pulling the map closer to him, Lucius placed a finger on Menethil Harbor, before slowly tracing upward from the Wetlands into the Arathi Highlands. "Stromgarde," he said, tapping the location of the ruined fortress of humans in the area.

"What?" Nobu'tan said, leaving closer to look at the location.

"It's already fortified, abandoned by any full nation of warriors, is in a location filled with open plains that can be used for growing food for our armies, and there are several groves of trees that can be used for lumber to build a dock and several ships. There are also trolls and ogres nearby we can take and recruit into the Horde properly."

Nobu'tan looked closely, seeing that Lucius had indeed thought this out, and the location was good, even if he did not like it.

"In addition," the man continued, "there is already a wall blocking it from the Hillsbrad foothills we can take control of to defend ourselves, and the massive bridge between it and Wetlands, making the entire region defensively for our use."

"Fine, Lucius, you win," Nobu'tan acquiesced; understanding that the man had him beat. "We will begin preparations and shift our attack plans to Stromgarde, the fighting ought to be lighter for our warriors as well…"

"There may not need to be that much fighting, if we move slowly and take command of the trolls and ogres outside the fortress first, using them as part of our demands to lower the guards of the stronghold itself." Lucius commented, tapping the map where their scouts had reported the ogres and trolls to be. "From what we've learned, a human syndicate only controls part of the stronghold, while trolls and ogres have splintered the control of it among their three factions."

"So that could easily be two thirds of the fortress taken without bloodshed whatsoever, or only minor if needed… I like it," Nobu'tan said, quickly becoming sold on the new plan than he was on the old. In hindsight, provoking Stormwind so soon might not have been the right move. VanCleef had yet to arrive to shore up their defenses anyway, and they would not be able to maintain their borders on the south if a full-fledged attack came from the human nation.

"We ought to send in the trolls first, as they can tavel swiftly and unseen across the territory that separates us from this northern area," Lucius added, tracing the path they needed to travel to get to the highlands, "from there they can set up an encampment for us to lay siege to the fortress while our larger force of orcs and ogres march up. It will take time and it would be best to avoid conflict along the way, especially with the dwarves, who already wish us ill will from the recent attacks."

Nobu'tan nodded, already wanting them to do just that. The dwarves' attacks had ceased since the cave in of their mountain pass, but it wouldn't be wise to the further antagonize them through the last northern pass that the Horde had to use.

Growing weary of discussing their plans, which now had to be completely changed for the new target, Nobu'tan asked, "Has there been any word from Voldemort?"

"Nothing yet, my Lord," Lucius replied, "but knowing him as I do, it is perfectly within his character to go off for long bouts of time, only to return when it suits him the most. I expect that he'll turn up eventually."

Nobu'tan huffed, it would be like that bag of bones to up and disappear when his talents would have been most useful in seizing the fortress. Still, there were other options that they had available to them. "Very well then, we'll deal with this without him, and hopefully you are right."

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Alastor was thoroughly impressed with the collection of arms and weapons on the Xenedar. Even though it was difficult for him to sense the power of the elements, a gift fostered and assisted by Merlin himself, Alastor could still tap into the diverse and strong power of the Arcane here in the deep Nether.

Currently, he wasn't sure exactly where they were going, or what the goal of the Army of the Light was in the short term, but for the moment, he trusted that Albus and the two Naaru had things well in hand.

As he moved about the cramped corridors of the ship, Alastor couldn't help but wonder the story behind all these creatures that looked so much like the Eredar, yet were various shades of blue and grey instead of the blood red of the demons.

In addition to this, there were other confusing things, such as the female that was often with High Exarch Turalyon, the Lady Alleria Windrunner. The shadows that haunted her were frighteningly similar to that of Morgan Le Faye, and like the former enemy of the wizards-turned mages, she was watched closely by the Naaru leader, Xe'ra.

"Curious about something regarding Lady Windrunner?" asked a voice behind him, and Alastor turned sharply, hand going for his wand by gut instinct, only to relax as the shining figure came into view.

Lothraxion, the one Dreadlord that had been turned to the Light, was there, a curious expression on his face. Alastor considered just moving on, but his curiosity was piqued. "This ship, these people, where did they all come from?" he asked, gesturing around, "How can there be so few represented as the light standing against the Legion?"

"We are but the command structure," Lothraxion replied, leading Alastor over to a strange device in the wall of the ship. Waving his clawed hand over it, the thing flared to life with a golden glow, showing a multitude of planets, "the Army of the Light is stages across the stars, ready to come to the aid of nearby worlds as the Legion moves through the Nether, and we offer our direction, as well as the power of the Light to formulate defenses when we can arrive in time."

"Then those that are here are only the most elite of your warriors?" Alastor asked, seeking understanding.

"One could say it that way," the Nathrezim replied, "the Lightforged Draenei that fled Argus before it was corrupted into the headquarters of the Legion, as well as myself and several others taken from various worlds and battles are Xe'ra's personal guard as she reinforces the strength of the Light throughout the cosmos."

Stroking the stubble on his face in thought, Alastor pondered the scene all around. There had to be something he could do to ease his anxiety. So many years of fighting, he had problems staying sedentary for long.

As if sensing his problem, the golden winged being gestured with a claw, "We have a training area for the Lightforged, if you wish to relieve some stress and get yourself back into fighting shape."

"I would like that very much actually," Alastor replied, magical eye whirling in the direction that the former demon pointed, and seeing the side chamber that was off the main part of the ship. Heading in that direction quickly, Alastor eventually heard the clang of weapons as other of the Xenedar's inhabitants practiced their skills.

The chamber was a solid circle of metal, lowered from the entrance to allow for viewers to sit and watch, or await their turn in the case of contests of strength. Several dummies of various materials were stationed around the outermost ring of the circle, while several of the Lightforged Draenei fought with their crystalline weapons and channeling the Light.

Spotting quickly that there was a large open section, he stumped down to the circle, much to the curious gaze of the Lightforged, who paused even in their training to watch him approach the largest and strongest of their training dummies.

Only after ascertaining the material that was used in its construction, Alastor moved to a moderate range away, and channeling the power of the Arcane through him.

The surprise that surged through the others in the chamber must have been large, as Alastor opened up with a volley of fireballs, attacking three of the targets at once. Fire flew from his fingers, immolating each and sending sparks flying in all directions.

Even as he did so, Alastor drew his wand, channeling hexes and curses at a fourth target. The sparks and explosions ricocheting off the hardened material sent several of the Draenei jumping back in surprise.

Allowing himself to lose himself in the perfecting work of his training, spells and fire washing over the targets as he focused heavily on finding a flow between his mage and wizard arts. He was aware of the others slowly filtering in to watch, but because of his magical eye he could watch them quick well.

With a final flourish, he used a devastating bombarda in combination with a molten sphere of flame to actually blast the target off of its pedestal, sending it skidding across the Xenedar's deck and leaving gouges in the metal floor.

Calming himself, Alastor turned to look over the whole assembled group of Lightforged, wizard refugees and others who had come to watch. The paladin leader, Turalyon, as well as Lothraxion were present, looking suitably impressed.

The human approached quickly as the rest of the crowd started to disperse, the show over, "That was an impressive display," he said, offering his hand to Alastor, who sensed no guile in the man before him, and took it without question.

"Just a warm-up," Alastor said, deflecting questions as to his fighting style and methods. "We could use your people in the fight against the legion, but until now we've had no idea what you're all truly capable of. If you'd be willing, we will happily open up the training halls for your people to practice alongside the Lightforged, and together we can strengthen our strategy against the Legion."

Alastor huffed. Teaching, once again he would be the role of a teacher, but it was something to do at least. "Sure, it's not like there much else to do."

"Glad to hear it," said Turalyon, clapping Alastor on the shoulder, before departing, "I hope to hear great things from this alliance against the Legion.

Lothraxion smirked knowingly from the entrance, subtly giving his approval for Alastor as the man started to move around the training ground, observing the efforts of the Lightforged as they sparred and went through the motions of their fighting forms. There was room for improvement here and there, but for the time being Alastor would keep silent, filing away his suggestions until it was time for them.

It wouldn't do to evoke too much authority too quickly over these beings, as he was a newcomer here, and experience or no, no being trusted quickly in others that were different. He would stick to training the wizards for now, and after their first battle against the Legion, and their skill had been proved, then he would offer aid to the others of the Army of the Light, and see if they would be accepted then.

An army was only as strong as the weakest, and as swift as the slowest, this Alastor knew well.