Much thanks to those who've responded. The discord server is budding quite nicely, (Shameless plug: join the discord, subscribe on youtube, and follow me on twitch for live-streaming, links in my profile) and have a decent amount of great conversation going, but there could always be more! aside from that, on with the new chapter! ~F
Chapter 116
Powerful Knowledge
Tyrande gazed out over the city of Darnassius. From her vantage point high in the Temple of Elune, she could gaze across the rooftops and into the branches of Teldrassil surrounding them.
For countless ages the Night Elves had been the supreme race on Azeroth, but now times were drastically different than Tyrande had expected. The aftermath of the Battle of Mount Hyjal had changed every race involved, and the Night Elves were not left untouched. Despite the loss of their immortality, they had flourished, retreating to this island tree and separating from the rest of Kalimdor to protect the remainder of their people.
However, things were in motion once more, and the High Priestess could sense some manner of distress circling around them. Even the Horde, allied with the gentle Tauren to the south, had not caused such a ripple when they settled in the rocky lands off of the Barrens.
No, something else was coming, and with it heralded the sound of drums. Tyrande did not wish for war to break out among the factions once again, even if she greatly distrusted this Dark Horde that had arisen. Their leader was a man of darkness, born of the humans from somewhere far from their shores, and enshrouded with the Fel power of the Legion. Worse still, this Nobu'tan had the charisma to charm others to fight by his side.
Tyrande could tell that it was a dangerous combination to have in a potential opponent. The Horde had apparently clashed with them multiple times, as well as the dwarven allies of the Alliance. The Kaldorei had not as of yet tested their might against the Dark Horde fully, despite the skirmish in Desolace.
It worried Tyrande that if the Dark Horde turned on their world, and started another bid toward ushering in the Legion, a terrible war would break out across all their lands. Could they face off against such a threat, and be victorious? Sighing to herself, the High Priestess turned her back on the view of Darnassius, and retreated into the interior of the temple, heading for a special place that she had frequented often in times of great trial for her people.
A little chamber off to the side of the main temple floor awaited her, the Sentinel guards bowing as she approached. Within, a trio of druids rose to greet her. "I wish to travel to the Moonglade, and be with by Beloved," Tyrande informed them, and the druids complied, opening the way through their magic to the sanctuary of their people.
Stepping through, Tyrande smelled the raw nature of the Moonglade, feeling it revitalize her spirit. Before her was the Barrow Den that had been dedicated to her love and the great hero of the Kaldorei: Malfurion Stormrage.
Following the paths that she had memorized over countless years, Tyrande trekked down to the place where Malfurion laid, grasses and leaves forming over the strong roots that held him. Several lesser druids were attending to the needs of his physical body as he walked through the Emerald Dream, and yet it had been so long since Malfurion had awakened. Tyrande secretly feared for his safety, despite the promises that the Dream was the safest place in all of Azeroth.
"Any news?" she asked one of the druids, and the woman shook her head.
"None Priestess," the young elf replied, "Shan'do Stormrage sleeps on, undisturbed."
"I would sit with him for a time, you may depart," Tyrande said, moving to take the place beside her Beloved's head. The druids bowed, and departed, leaving the two alone.
"Malfurion," Tyrande said, allowing her guard to drop in their privacy, "I am so alone, and I do not know what to do to protect our world. I need you at my side…"
She spoke her heart to him often in this manner, knowing that while he was away and unable to hear her, his spirit was present with her nonetheless.
"This Dark Horde, its presence worries me," she continued, brushing her fingers through the wild hair of Malfurion, "they have great power, and a dark influence over the other races, more than even they would care to admit, but their affiliation with the Legion is frightening."
Despite the lack of response from her Beloved, Tyrande felt the comfort of his embrace around her. She had no answers for her burning questions, but she felt in her heart that everything would work out for the best, and there was little need for drastic action at this time.
"Thank you, my Beloved," she whispered, leaving a kiss on Malfurion's lips before taking her leave. The Dark Horde was a threat to their world, but only so much as they were left unchecked and unchallenged.
Information, and reliable opinion, were the greatest tools that Tyrande could gather at this point, and there was little better location for that than the main city of Stormwind. The Alliance on the same continent as the Dark Horde would have far more knowledge, which Tyrande felt it was time that she visited formally and request them to share such information with her.
Returning to Darnassius, the High Priestess of Elune set forth the preparation of a ship to carry her to Stormwind Harbor, and a group of Sentinels to escort her there.
Perhaps it was past time that the Night Elves looked to the rest of the races on Azeroth as equals, rather than continually remembered their old glory and what their people had lost.
In any case, Tyrande would go, see, and hear what was being said regarding this threat to their balance, and make her decision from there.
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Nobu'tan quickly flew through the preliminaries of a strategy. The knowledge of what the Blood Elves were up to just to the north of the Bonechewer ruins had indeed upset the plans he had had for pushing ahead into the Shadowmoon Valley, but needs be as they must.
With the vast armies of the Dark Horde spread throughout Outland, their resources for this situation were limited, but Nobu'tan was prepared to do whatever was needed to protect what remained of this world from total destruction.
Even as his plan started to move, Nobu'tan was making small changes and corrections. Aisha and her people would cover the air, while the Bonechewer Fel orcs, along with Nobu'tan and the Dawn's Hammer Clan, would charge the front. Dragonmaw orcs would converge on either side of the woods, providing flanking and support for their ground forces.
Inwardly, Nobu'tan wished that they had the Fel centaur with them for this sort of attack, but it could not be helped, and they would make do with those who they had on hand. "Assemble your clan, I will speak to them of this doom that approaches," Nobu'tan said to Tagar Spinebreaker, and the Fel orc, now fully aware of the plan, nodded his acceptance of Nobu'tan leadership in this mater.
Bannok Grimaxe stood at Nobu'tan's side as they exited the ruined barracks. Goblins and other engineers of the Dark Horde were already surveying the structure and preparing plans for fortifying the location, but the Grand Warlock's focus was on the Fel orcs before them, watching in curious neutrality.
"Warriors of the Bonechewer clan, hear me now!" Nobu'tan began, "I will not lie to you, nor will I mince words with pretty language that will only dull the impact of what we are facing. The Elves are, in secret, planning to destroy a large section of this world with a bomb of pure magic…"
The Fel orc warlocks muttered at the mention of the mana bomb, and Nobu'tan wondered if they had even sensed such a thing as it was being prepared.
"I, alongside the other leaders of the Dark Horde present, and your chieftain Tagar, have devised a plan to stop the Elves, and route them. Once the area is secure, I will destroy the mana bomb, saving us all from utter annihilation. These Elves, servants of Illidan, are now our enemies, and will be put down!"
The warriors seemed impressed, but Nobu'tan could tell that the fear of the Elves' magic still gripped them.
"You need not fear the Elves and their magic," Bannok added, stepping forward and pounding his chest, "the Dawn's Hammer Clan will prevent the worst of what they have to offer from affecting us. By the Light, and for the Horde!"
"They will learn to fear our power!" Nobu'tan declared, "We shall return to be the rulers of our own domains, and cast them out of our lands! For the Dark Horde! Lok'tar Ogar!" Nobu'tan shouted, bellowing the words of the ancient war cry across the fortress.
The Fel orcs, much more susceptible to the bloodlust of their race, roared in reply, fire in their eyes as they felt the Fel magic wafting over them from Nobu'tan's aura. Stowing the staff of the guardian on his back, Nobu'tan concentrated on the Fel, and brought forth the Glaive of Magtheridon. Fel dripped liberally from the weapon, lusting for battle and blood.
Nobu'tan would gladly give it all that it desired, and more. "Onward my warriors!" he shouted, pointing the weapon toward the north, "we march!"
The Dawn's Hammer had already been assembled, and hefted their massive mauls and great axes, turning as one and marching, with the Fel orcs of the Bonechewer clans forming up behind them. Nobu'tan conjured a Dreadsteed, and spurred the beast into a lively trot, reaching the front lines of his army, even as Bannok and Tagar arrived on wolfback.
"So it comes to open war," Tagar muttered, still reeling from the haste in which Nobu'tan came to his decisions.
"We do not have the luxury of living in peaceful times," Bannok replied, from the opposite side of Nobu'tan, "we must do what is needed to preserve what peace we can cobble together."
"I swear that your people will find a home among us," Nobu'tan said, "and once this is over, more of the forest will belong to your clan, to do with as you see fit."
They crossed the road in short order, and soon Nobu'tan spotted the first few outpost building of the Elven camp. Raising his weapon, he channeled the power of the Fel through it, and caused the double-ended weapon to burst into bright green flames, "Attack! Destroy them all!"
The elves had clearly heard the advancing army, and sprung into action as the united orc and Fel orc army charged. Arrows and spells flew from the trees around them, but the Paladins of the Dawn's Hammer erected shields of light, absorbing the magic and deflecting the barrage, even as they closed distance with a forming wall of Elven warriors.
Releasing the reins of his steed, Nobu'tan delved into the magic of his birthright, and twisted through space with a mighty sound, like a whip. He reappeared, falling over one of the ballista that the Elves favored for mowing down infantry. The glaive dug deeply into the wood, and Fel flames erupting on all sides, scattering the engineers that were attempting to fire the weapon into the lines of charging orcs.
Spinning as the Elves started to react to his sudden presence, Nobu'tan took several of their heads with lightning speed and a flash of the deadly weapon in his hands. Fel Veela appeared at that moment, swooping from the skies to tackle Elven rangers and spell casters from the trees, or else drag them into the air to plunge to their deaths.
From his forward position, Nobu'tan could see into the center of the ring of Blood Elf buildings forming their camp. As his scrying spell had revealed, the spherical bomb hovered in the center of the camp, surrounded by Blood Elf warlocks and guarded heavily by their light wielding warriors.
The leader, a male Blood Elf with a spear and his hair in a massive topknot, seemed to glow with radiant magic, even as the sneer crossed the pale face. Nobu'tan wasn't certain, but in his experience the wielders of the Light seemed to be more mild mannered than these elves were, and it spoke of something strange and off about their hold over that aspect of magic.
"Blood Knights, attack!" the Elf shouted, ordering his warriors to charge, attempting to counter the rush from the Dark Horde's forces, and Nobu'tan was forced to redirect his attention to the battle immediately around him.
Magtheridon's weapon burned in Nobu'tan's hands, even as he swung, throwing himself into the air and permitting more of his demonic form to reveal itself. Wings manifested, and Nobu'tan soared over the heads of the advancing defenders, heading for the nearest of the many Elven buildings.
Landing with a clattering of claws on the domed roof, Nobu'tan considered his surroundings once more, before smirked at the next building to his left. Orbs were suspended over the building, rotating slowly as a massive astrolabe. Reaching out with his magic, Nobu'tan quickly found the stabilizing spells that were grafted onto the orbs, and sundered them.
With a shuddering crash, the orbs tumbled from their floating places, rolling off the building and crashing into the ground around the bomb as though flung from a catapult. The Elves scattered, their formation at their rear shattered by the falling objects, and opening the way for Nobu'tan's second attack.
Sparks shot into the air with a thought, and Nobu'tan leapt from the building into the clearing caused by the falling astrolabe, just as Dragonmaw orcs surged from the sides of the camp, forming a pincer around the Elven force on three fronts.
Somehow, Nobu'tan wasn't exactly surprised that the Elves chose to fight to the death rather than surrender. Their fanatical loyalty to their leaders was commendable, if still misguided. Even before the final Elf perished under the blades of his army, Nobu'tan had begun studying the Mana Bomb.
The engineering was indeed beyond the Grand Warlock's experience. It was an interesting combination of technology and magic, but due to their swift attack it was clear that the devise was vastly underpowered for its intended purpose. Not that the object was even remotely safe even at its current state, and Nobu'tan swiftly looked for some means to deactivate the bomb, or else siphon the magic back away from it and defuse it by that means.
"Chieftain," a grunt said, approaching Nobu'tan, "the Elves' leader had this on his person."
Nobu'tan turned, accepting the small metal bauble that the grunt offered. Magic shimmered on the surface of the object, and was drastically similar to the magic of the bomb. His eyes widened, even as Nobu'tan understood what he held. The code that would detonate the Mana Bomb.
Giving the device another quick look, Nobu'tan accepted that its design was well beyond his understanding, and there would be no means of him diffusing the object. However, he could detonate it here, rather than whatever target that the Blood Elves desired, or even move and utilize it himself against his enemies.
"This weapon is to be secured for transport." He ordered, making a decision, "no one with magic is to touch or come near it, other than myself and any who accompany me."
"As you command, Chieftain," the grunt replied, signaling for others to come and assist him in securing the bomb and preparing it to move.
Stowing the code in his robes, Nobu'tan wondered if he was walking down a dangerous path, to use the weapons of his enemies against them. Still, better this object in his hands than any others, and to destroy it would be a waste of potential later on.
Once the weapon was prepared, with four elite grunts protecting it, Nobu'tan opened a gateway to a fortified vault within Blackrock Mountain, which only he had access to. "Leave it there and return," he ordered, unwilling to approach the device at this time. Soon he would permit his goblin engineers to study the bomb, and devise the means to power it, and perhaps create more of them.
It would suffice that, for the time being, their enemies had been foiled, and another sparse of land captured for the Dark Horde's use. "Tagar, these lands are your, and belong to all of the Bonechewers who wish to dwell here, but we are planning to push onward against our enemies. If you wish to continue to join us, you are most welcome."
The chieftain of the Bonechewer Clan nodded solemnly, "We have many that wish to take possession of these lands," he admitted, "but there are just as many who will fight by your side, as full members of the Dark Horde."
"You honor us by your words," Nobu'tan said, bowing his head momentarily, "You and yours are most welcome in our ranks, and have more than proved yourselves."
"For the Dark Horde!" Tagar screamed, and his Fel orc warriors echoed the cry, raising weapons and fists in solidarity with their new allies.
Nobu'tan smiled, before slowly turning his gaze to Shadowmoon Valley once more. They had a powerful forward position just outside the rocky plains, but there were still potential allies to contact within that place, under the nose of his enemy no less.
The Dragonmaw Clan would have heard of their coming by now, and Nobu'tan wondered who led their clan now, and how open to listening they would be.
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Blaise frowned as he watched the bridge from the Blade's Edge Mountains to the region of the Nether Storm from the secured camp he and the orcs from the Blackrock clan had set up out of sight. The longer they waited it seemed that the defenses on the bridge were only tightened.
Blaise was not desirous to create a stir by butchering the entire garrison just to gain entrance to the region inhabited by the Blood Elves, but at the same time the Dark Horde needed the intelligence that could be acquired by mapping the location and taking note of the operations of their enemies there.
"Lord Tenebrous," one of the elite stalkers said, pointing down the road that led south.
Blaise looked, and smirked. Off in the distance, well out of sight of the bridge but where the keen-eyed watchers of the Dark Horde could spot, a lone Blood Elf in crimson armor was getting attacked by the wildlife of the mountains.
"A scout," Blaise commented, "Bring his body to me; I have a plan that requires his armor and weapon…"
"As you wish," the stalker replied, and a trio of rogues crept through the shadows of the rocks toward the struggling Elf. Soon enough the red-armored figure was felled by his attacker and the rogues drove away the creatures from the corpse, before hefting the limp body into their arms and hauling it back to their protected ridge.
Despite his wounds, Blaise could easily make out the Elf's face and rough body shape, which would be important in part of his eventual impersonation of the figure. For the time being however, he wrenched out a handful of the long, blond hair, and carefully fed a single strand into a hip flask of Polyjuice that he kept on himself at all times.
Nobu'tan had worked feverishly to perfect the Earth-born wizard's potions with the ingredients from Azeroth. While there had been a great deal of overlap, some things that the magic-rich world had Earth had never known, and several varieties of plant and animal parts simply did not exist on this world. But in the end, after a great deal of experiments, even the more complicated potions had been achieved.
"Repario… Scourgify…" Blaise casually muttered, mending and cleaning the soiled, bloody, and dented armor that the Elf wore, before stripping the body of his entire set of equipment and armaments.
"Once I am safely on the other side of the bridge, I will open a small portal for the rest of you," Blaise instructed, familiarizing himself with the Elf's gear while some stalkers disposed of the corpse, after shearing the head completely of hair. The more specific material of the Elf that they had the better, just in case Blaise had to remain in his disguise longer than expected or for other reasons.
But there was a problem. "Something's not right," Blaise said, tracing the emblem on the tabard that the Elf had worn, "This is not the Sunfury sigil…"
"It's the emblem of Silvermoon City," one of the orcs mentioned, a veteran of the Second War.
"Then who was he scouting for?" Blaise wondered aloud.
"Tenebrous, there are more Elves approaching, flying the same emblem on their banners." A warlock mentioned, returning to them from where she had been channeling an Eye of Kil'rogg.
"That explains something," Blaise said, thinking fast. He could still make use of this situation.
Quickly, he took a long swig of his flask, and shuddered as his body transformed, becoming slim and graceful, and his ears agonizingly elongating into the form of a Blood Elf. His clothing hung off of the slender frame, and Blaise changed into the dead Elf's armor and garb, stowing his own equipment out of sight, in both the magically expanded bag that the Elf possessed, as well as his own weapons in hidden places on the armor, out of sight but within reach if needed.
Surprisingly, some of the magical elements of the Elf seemed to transfer over with the change of Blaise's body, such as the lightness and grace that the Elves seemed to use unconsciously. Personally he was just glad that the heavy addiction to magic had not been included, as that would have been something of a hamper to deal with.
Straightening the clothing once more and checking that he had all the Elf's equipment, Blaise nodded, "I will go join them, and try to stealth through the garrison. If I need help, I will send up a bust of red sparks into the air." He instructed, before stepping down from the hidden ridge, and making his way openly back to the approaching line of Elves.
"Sinu a'manore," the lead Elf greeted, halting the massive land-bound bird he rode at the head of the column, "what is your report?"
"The road is clear up to the bridge into the Netherstorm," Blaise said, his voice already changed into the higher tones that the Elf had possessed in life. "It's heavily guarded by Prince Kael'thas' warriors."
"So we've arrived at last," the leader said, sounding relieved. Blaise casually looked over the rest of the column, and was interested to note how ragged many of the Elves appeared. They must have been marching long at a heightened pace to reach this place so quickly, and the wear on them was apparent. "Hopefully they do not attack their own kin on sight, and we can seek an audience with our Prince."
The mounted Elf whistled, and another of the large birds dashed up, riderless, and waited expectantly for Blaise to mount. Luckily, even the senses of the animal were fooled, and the bird believed Blaise to be the Elf he was impersonating. The wonders of Polyjuice never ceased to amaze the warlock assassin, and he gracefully swung up into the saddle, moving alongside the leader as the entire column recommenced their progress toward the bridge.
The guards on the bridge seemed to be at a loss of what they were expected to do, with a host of their brethren approaching with banners of the homeland overhead. Eventually, the grim-faced leader of the guards held up a hand and spoke loudly, "Halt, state your business here!"
"Anu belore dela'na," the leader of the column of Elves said, his mount scratching at the dry ground as they halted, "We have come from Silvermoon to find our Prince, and bring him word of our homeland."
The guards looked between themselves for a moment before the leader responded, "We have orders to prevent anyone from entering the lands controls by Prince Kael'thas."
"So he is here, then?" the other Elf countered, "Surely you would not wish to fight your own, when we just want to meet with our Prince and bring word from Regent Lord Lor'themar."
Blaise could tell that the internal struggle from the Sunfury Elves was great, their loyalty to the orders of their Prince against their loyalty to their people.
Eventually, the Sunfury came to a decision. Thrusting a map into the leader of the Silvermoon Elves, the lead guard quickly spoke, "travel quickly, and stay out of sight of the Ethereals, this map will lead you to Tempest Keep."
The guards parted, permitting the Silvermoon delegation through their lines and into the Netherstorm fully. Blaise glanced back, seeing the guards muttering among themselves, until one of the Magisters swiftly opened a portal and departed, likely to seek advice regarding the newest guests in their lands.
Regardless of the reasoning behind the shady dealing of the Sunfury regarding their own kin, Blaise knew that he needed to separate from these elves quickly, and summon the Blackrock orcs, so that they could continue with their own mission in this mana charged and barren waste.
Luckily, as he was impersonating one of the scouts for the Silvermoon group, he knew that eventually he'd be sent ahead, and could vanish completely. It was only a matter of time.
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"Hold fast warriors of the Light!" High Lector Albus Dumbledore cried, channeling blessed fire to smite the demons that they faced.
Countless years had the Army of the Light fought the Burning Legion, across countless worlds, and yet every battle brought the same pain and sorrow hurtling back to the elderly, Lightforged wizard.
The Draenei of the Army charged into battle, with their allies from across the universe, and Albus felt the peace of the Naaru sweep through him as he raised an open hand.
"Blessed flame of the Light, smite our foes!" he called, drawing power from the Xenedar high overhead, and the Naaru that dwelled within. Pillars of fire appeared in glorious splendor, immolating countless scores of their foes, opening the way for the vindicators to push forward. The latest world was nearly consumed by the Legion when they arrived, but the last survivors had called for aid, and in their darkest hour the Naaru had come.
Albus had turned over everything that was himself to the purposes of the Naaru, the greatest good that there was left in the Twisted Nether. With the loss of Earth, and the last surviving people of their world split between the Army and distantly on Azeroth, Albus knew that he had to strive to protect others, to make up for his failure to protect his own people.
Through countless sessions of speaking with the Prime Naaru, Xe'ra, Albus had learned to let go of his anger at Nobu'tan, once Harry Potter and the boy that had caused the destruction of their world. Xe'ra spoke of prophecy, and that one there may yet be a greater purpose for Nobu'tan in the grand scheme of the Legion's downfall.
While not necessarily the Chosen One that the Naaru spoke of, Albus could think of none other who fit the descriptions of the prophecy.
"How fares the battle, High Lector?" a voice said, even as the figure appeared in a blast of light from the Xenedar.
"It fares well, High Exarch," Albus replied, turning to greet Turalyon, the High Exarch of the Army of the Light, and first non Draenei to become Lightforged.
"Another Legion stronghold to destroy, and this so far from Argus…" the Paladin said, overseeing the battle and the spires of the Legion's encampment far beyond, "how they manage to extend their reach even with our full resistance is staggering to comprehend."
"In time, we will destroy all that they hold," Albus replied, "Xe'ra has foreseen it."
"Yes," the Paladin agreed, "but I wonder sometimes how long the road will be till her prophecy will be fulfilled."
"You wish to return to Azeroth, and find out what has happened with your old comrades," Albus commented, sensing the longing in the voice of the supreme leader of the Army of the Light, after the Naaru.
"I do not deny it, but there is little time to dwell on such things," Turalyon said, drawing his sword, "for now, we continue the fight against the demons."
"Yes," Albus agreed, bringing forward the Light-blessed staff that was his focus now, "to battle then."
Despite the portals churning endless ranks of demons, the Army of the Light had conviction on their side, and emerged victorious. The final portal collapsed when the Fel crystals powering it were shattered, causing the gateway back to Argus to vanish.
"Another world saved from destruction," Turalyon said, sheathing his sword as the last of the Legion encampment was shattered by their forces.
"But at what cost," Albus added, gazing around the shattered and devastated landscape, "how can this world recover from the Fel corruption?"
"Nature will heal, in time," said another voice. The pair of Lightforged turned to see Remus Lupin striding toward them, swirls of life energy trailing off the druid as he communed with the planet around them.
"There has been much damage because of the Legion," Remus said, closing his wolfin eyes, "but there is fight enough left in her to return stronger than before."
Through the werewolf's training with Merlin, Albus had witnessed a great change in the once timid and peaceful man. Not only had wolf and man merged completely, allowing Remus to remain in his werewolf form indefinitely with his mind in full control, but his rapport with the natural world had become stronger than any aboard the Xenedar.
"Come, I can sense Xe'ra summoning us to return," Turalyon said, "It is time to move on."
Returning to the open ground where the Army's beacon rested, the two Lghtforged and one werewolf teleported back up to the overhead ship, refreshed by the light of the Prime Naaru as they entered the central chamber.
"The world is clensed of the Legion taint, Xe'ra," the High Exarch reported, kneeling before the Naaru.
"The world will heal, and its people survive the flame that almost consumed their world," Remus added, bowing once before stepping back.
"Another world saved from the Legion's Crusade," Xe'ra replied, "There is still much work to be done, and a pity we cannot remain to guide then further."
Even as the Prime Naaru spoke, Albus paused, sensing something far away. A building of energy somewhere distant, through the Nether, and yet familiar.
"What is that?" he asked aloud, even as Turalyon and the other Lightforged Draenei looked in the same direction.
"I sense it as well," the High Exarch said.
"It is the shattered world of Draenor," Xe'ra informed them, "Events are coming upon the plains of Outland, even as foreseen. Two Chosen Ones will meet in battle, and the Legion will make another attempt to use it to their advantage."
"We must go to them," Albus said, thinking of Nobu'tan. From what Xe'ra had told him over countless conversations, the wizard was convinced that the boy was one of those that were sought by the Naaru, to fulfill the prophecy of the Legion's destruction.
"We must protect Azeroth," Turalyon agreed, "If the Legion claims the final titan-soul on that world, all is lost."
"We cannot reach them in time," Xe'ra said, "but fret not, Azeroth is in safe hands, and will not fall to the flame at this time."
"There must be something we can do?" another voice called, even as Exarch Sirius Black appeared, golden armor flashing with the man's passion. "Send me and a few others ahead, let us pave the way for the Army to come at the most opportune time."
"It is not possible," Xe'ra insisted. "There is no ships to spare for such a small mission, and the possibility of assisting at the most opportune time is still yet ahead. A'dal, M'uru, and O'ros took our only remaining vessel and set out ahead of this tide."
"Why were we not told of this?" Sirius replied, growing flustered. Albus felt for the man, as his personal attachment to Nobu'tan was greater even than Albus'.
"It was their decision to go alone," Xe'ra informed them, "and the dark fate that waits for M'uru was not something they wished to be experienced by any of the Army of the Light."
The vagueness of this mission was something that Albus had not heard of before from the Prime Naaru, but he accepted her wisdom in the matter, and while still seething, Sirius did as well.
The Xenedar started for the next Legion controls world in the Nether, and the Lightforged departed, Turalyon squeezing the shoulder of Sirius as he passed.
"Sirius, I understand your frustration…" Albus started, once they were out of Xe'ra's chamber, but the paladin brushed his off.
"No, Albus, you really don't," he countered, "I didn't get the chance to speak with Harry when we were together on Earth, and all I did was save one of his servants, charging the creature to protect my godson with its life. I have to see him, and make sure that he's survived all this madness in one piece. I need to know if he has resisted the call of the Legion or if—"
Sirius paused, "—or if he really became the monster we all saw."
Albus nodded, saying no more. Turning back to watch Sirius's departing form, Albus noticed the paladin lock eyes with Remus, and the pair of former Marauders start in the same direction, speaking in low tones to each other.
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Teg'Ramm looked over the modest village of the peaceful ogres of Ogri'la with a critical eye. While they had promised that no harm would befall his clan so long as they remained peaceful themselves, the Ogre Lord had difficulty trusting strangers, especially other ogres that were on par with his intellect.
Additionally, the fact that multiple Legion encampments flanked the plateau that the ogres had settled upon was disconcerting, as well as the vicious wildlife that would attack with the slightest provocation.
"It's not the most elaborate of dwellings in our people's history," Mog'Drog had explained when they entered, but it still quaint in the eyes of Teg'Ramm. Of greatest curiosity were the shards of magical crystals that rose up out of the plateau in abundance, shimmering of Arcane power.
"I see you're admiring the Apexis Crystals," the orge mage said, approaching where Teg'Ramm was standing. The far older ogre leaned heavily on a staff as he walked, "They are quite prized amount various factions."
"I presume that is why the Legion is here?" Teg said, "To take them for their own gain."
"The arcane nature of the crystals is such that it can be used to power almost any sort of spell or ritual," Mog'Drog explained, "They wish to use them to power their gateways and bring more demons into Outland."
"So, you seek to unite the ogres of Blade's Edge and drive out the Legion to preserve the crystals, and prevent them from ushering in more of their foul kin," Ramm added, piecing the puzzle together swiftly.
"Precisely," Mog'Drog admitted, "if we could unite all those who dwell here, as well as ally with your clan, I suspect we'd at last have the strength to throw out those who would enslave the ogres."
"What do your people use the crystals for?" Teg asked, already guessing at the answer before Mog'Drog smiled.
"Enlightenment, naturally," the older ogre replied, gesturing back at the peaceful village, filled with vastly intelligent ogres going about their monastic lives. Teg'Ramm had spent a short time among them, and had been impressed with the amassed knowledge that these ogres had gathered.
"I suppose that we could come to some manner of arrangement to achieve your goals," Teg'Ramm said with a smile.
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