Legacy of Oblivion

The zeppelin had taken a strange route from Undercity, almost doubling the expected travel time. Stormwind and Ironforge, cities of the enemy Alliance, were given an even wider birth than usual, then the craft turned sharply, cutting straight across Duskwood to the coast. When asked, the zeppelin operator could only offer the little he knew: Increased security was being enforced throughout the Horde for unknown reasons, and zeppelins were forbidden to take the same route twice in a day. It was not a cause for too much concern; this happened from time to time.

All mounts and pets tethered to the deck were restless by the time they docked safely at Grom’Gol Base Camp on the western shore of Stranglethorn Vale, and the tropical heat did nothing to help the mood. Relieved passengers and animals ran down the zeppelin ramp as if someone had announced the craft was about to explode. Sabe and Thundrax did likewise, leading their mounts to the crowded outpost below.

On the ground, an angry mob had gathered. Curious, they led their animals over to the outskirts of the group, trying to figure out what the commotion was all about. Thundrax could hardly help but notice the two chimera curled up in a nearby nest, eyes darting about wildly over their massive paws. Reaching out, he placed his hand on one’s head. It shuddered at his touch but did not pull away, looking up at him wide-eyed. A low howl reverberated eerily from its throat.

“That’s odd. Something has frightened them,” Thundrax said, scanning his eyes over the other wind riders. Every nest was full of chimera huddled together.

A troll standing nearby overheard his remark and turned around to face them. His hands gestured angrily. “They’re not letting anyone go out on the wind riders today,” he told them.

Before they could ask him about it, a familiar female voice called out angrily above the murmurs of the restless crowd.

“What do you mean, you cannot give us passage north?” The voice said incredulously. “It will take weeks to get anywhere!”

Sabe and Thundrax exchanged a look.

The exasperated voice of the wind rider master shot back above the crowd. “I’ve told you, I can’t let you go out on them today. You’re just going to have to figure out another way to get to your destination.”

Angry shouts from the crowd erupted at the master’s words and they could no longer hear the conversation over the din.

Thundrax handed the reigns of his mount to Sabe and forced his way to the front of the commotion. Some of the shouting had died down when he reached the front and he worked his way over to the female who was still trying to negotiate with the wind rider master. Ancient arcane magics kicked up the dust around her feet, swirling her robes angrily. A male priest stood behind her, glowering over her shoulder.

“These are your animals,” the priest was protesting. “How is it that you can’t control your own animals? Bat Handlers don’t have these problems.”

The wind rider master narrowed his eyes. “Listen, Holy Man –”

“I am Forsaken!” The priest shouted back his offense.

“Fine then, Unholy Man,” the master sneered, “the chimera won’t go no matter what I do. An hour ago, one of them reached Burning Steppes, bloody and riderless. Two more came back the same way, completely spooking the rest of the brood. We don’t know what attacked them and, even if it were safe for you to go, I couldn’t convince one of them to take you any farther than the Stranglethorn border.”

The priest opened his mouth to retort, but the mage held up her hand to stop him.

“This is a losing battle, Arcadi,” she said, and turned to Thundrax, frowning.

The hunter shrugged back and regarded the two, now very hostile, Forsaken.

“Well,” he told them, “we’ll just have to take the long way.”

“It is too dangerous to ride,” the mage protested, although her robes settled noticeably.

The priest agreed. “Emberchill’s right, and don’t take that to mean I’m afraid of a few humans, because I’m not.”

Thundrax nodded somberly. Facing the Alliance was the least of their worries. They all knew the dangers of Deadwind Pass, but they needed to answer Caulbraen’s summon and could not discuss it openly.

When they emerged from the crowd, Sabe motioned to them from the far side of the post where she had been picking up gossip from the local merchants. Leading the two wolf mounts and Thundrax’s lizard pet, she met them half way.

“I hope we’re not riding,” she said, “because you wouldn’t believe what the locals are saying about what’s been happening around here lately.”

“We’re riding,” Thundrax answered, taking his mount and pet from her. “Do we want to know?”

“That depends,” Sabe replied. “Do you want to hear that something is roaming around the southern continent, attacking travelers and leaving their horrifically mutilated remains behind?”

“Not really, no.”

“Then forget I said anything.”

With a grin, he turned to Arcadi and Emberchill. “Did you bring your mounts?”

They both nodded, and Emberchill pointed to a small fenced area. “We checked them near the stables, thinking we would not need them.”

“We’ll get the mounts,” Arcadi said, giving Sabe a nudge.

“All right,” Thundrax said, “we’ll get supplies and meet you…” He looked around. There were a lot of bodies moving about the area, and curious glances rested on them periodically. Technically they were all part of one mighty Horde, but wisdom had proven itself right time and again in holding a general distrust of others.

“We’ll meet you out back,” Arcadi said quietly, sharing Thundrax’s caution.

At the stables, a line of disgruntled travelers had formed. Sabe and Arcadi joined them, briefly entertained by a stable hand who was trying to back a large kodo out.

“Look at you,” Arcadi said disdainfully, pulling out his wand. “You can heal yourself, you know.”

Sabe laughed. “They’re scratches, but I can see why you’re upset; one scratch on you and your arm falls off.”

“That only happened once and we put it back on!” Arcadi protested, moving the accused appendage around. “It’s fine.”

“Besides,” she said, laughing, “I have heavy armor and a shield to protect me. You have a pretty dress and a glowing orb.”

“It’s a robe,” he snapped.

Standing as straight as his decomposing body could manage, he gathered together his dignity and proclaimed, “And this orb has saved your big, green butt countless times.”

“I guess that’s why you’re always hiding behind me in a fight.”

Arcadi ignored the comment. “Ever notice how we usually end up traveling on the zeppelins together?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s no coincidence. If it ever crashes into the ocean, I’m going to use you as a flotation device.”

After a long wait, they reached the front of the line, laughing. The ribbing was not unusual, nor would it be the last for the day. Arcadi handed his claim check to the stable boy and pointed at two, tall creatures, devoid of flesh and sinew and skin, standing in the only shady corner of the yard. Although all that remained of their bodies were skeleton, they moved silently with a strange, otherworldly grace.

When they arrived at the back gate, Thundrax and Emberchill were already waiting and immediately divvied up the supplies. Riding to their meeting in the Swamp of Sorrows was definitely going to be a longer journey than expected, yet somehow Thundrax had still purchased too many supplies. He was overcautious in that regard.

“I tried reaching someone on the Officer channel,” Thundrax said, swinging up onto his wolf’s broad back.

Arcadi gave him a half shrug, then stopped as he realized he hadn’t received any broadcast. “Yeah?”

“No response,” he said. He was staring into the forest thoughtfully, eyes squinting at the sun. “Not even static.”

Emberchill’s fingers flickered slightly and suddenly she was sitting on her horse’s back. “When was the last time Caulbraen turned off the channel?” She asked.

Arcadi and Sabe glanced at each other for a moment, then turned away.

“Never,” Sabe said quietly, and swung up into her wolf’s saddle.

Worried expressions settled on their faces but they said nothing more about it.

They rode hard through Stranglethorn Vale, keeping to the main road. Despite the warnings, they did not see anything remotely dangerous. A few humans on horseback passed by, but seemed too distracted by other matters to worry about a small Horde party and continued at a full gallop past.

Two days later in the early afternoon, they reached the border of Duskwood. Camp was set up away from the road, and they rotated the watch until night fell, opting to camp in the Stranglethorn side. For the first few hours it was a very uneventful evening, until Emberchill came back from her watch early. The concerned look on her face communicated a warning. The group jumped to their feet when they saw her, and silently followed her away from the camp.

At the edge of the trench that marks the Stranglethorn Border, back about ten yards yards from the road, she stopped. There was no need for her to point out what she was looking at. The setting sun cast a bloody glow over the land, and an ominous shadow that could not quite conceal the large lump at the bottom of the ditch.

They stared. Sabe put a hand over her mouth as if it would stop the bile from rising and even Arcadi grimaced. Even if they could have resurrected the unfortunate travelers, bringing them back in their mangled, physical bodies would have been more cruel than the agony they endured in their final moments of life.

“I’ll bet they begged for death,” Arcadi whispered.

Dropping into the trench, Thundrax crept to the dark mound and scanned the area. After a few minutes he came back to the group looking grim.

“Nothing aside from a few large canine tracks,” he whispered, “but without enough light, I can’t be sure if that’s what attacked them or if they came after. Either way, I think we should abandon the camp and get moving.”

The decision was unanimous. After they had cleaned the camp, erasing all traces of their temporary respite, they ventured forth into the ever present shadow of Duskwood.

Although the land had long been cursed with unending darkness, they traveled by night just to be safe and stayed as far from the road as possible. Thundrax took the lead and, with his ability of tracking other lifeforms, there were very few surprises. Periodically, horrific remains similar to what they had found in Stranglethorn Vale would be found as shadowed mounds in the underbrush, but they did not stop to investigate. Once was definitely enough.

When the morning came, it wasn’t much lighter than the night had been. By now they were tired and stressed and hungry, so they set up a temporary camp just outside of Twilight Grove; a small, secluded spot where they could flop down on the ground and grab an hour or two of fitful sleep.

Thundrax had gone out to keep watch while the rest of the group was drifting off when a loud rumbling woke the camp. Sabe sat upright and glared angrily at the source.

“Stop bemoaning the gnome we spotted on the road earlier. There are other things for you to eat,” she said matter-of-fact, her voice sounding as irritated as Arcadi’s stomach. “Emberchill can summon something for you. Eat some pumpernickel.”

“Bread,” he said distastefully. “It’s not very satisfying.”

Emberchill raised an eyebrow at him. “These days, it is unsafe for Forsaken to eat any random humanoid. So many of them have strange impurities harbored in their bodies that could make you quite ill. Who knows where they have been before you found them? Of course this was not the case in years past. I remember when you could stop and eat anyone you found on the side of the road. Not so anymore.”

“Yeah,” Sabe said slowly, although she didn’t look so thrilled about the idea of eating anything she found on the side of the road. There was a culinary line, even for an orc. “Besides,” she continued, “we’re trying to be discreet. It’s difficult to do if we’re leaving your leftovers in the bushes.”

“It would have been discreet. I didn’t even need a fire.”

“Some jerky, then,” Sabe insisted.

“The gnome was fresh.”

“Fruit?”

This time, his stomach answered quite unfavorably. Instead of a question being fired back, something soft hit Arcadi’s cheek and fell to the ground. Sitting up, he leaned against a tree and picked up the offending hunk of cheese, noting the dirt that now covered its surface.

“Hitting me with it doesn’t make me want to eat it.”

Thick, green fingers deftly plucked the cheese out of his hand, and popped it into a waiting mouth, dirt and all.

“Your choice,” Sabe answered, munching happily.

She lay back down on the ground, trying to stuff her cloak into her ears.

Just before the calming sounds of the trees and the distant hum of the Emerald Dream portal sang them to sleep, a low rumble shook the camp to alertness again.

“One little gnome leg, that’s all I asked for,” Arcadi complained quietly.

A hiss and a pop was followed by a soft thud, and a large loaf of pumpernickel smacked Arcadi on the forehead.

Rolling over so her back faced the camp, Emberchill let out a very satisfied sigh and drifted off to sleep, despite the sound Sabe’s laughter.

Hours later, they were woken by the same noise that had accompanied them to sleep: The sound of Arcadi’s stomach, now complaining more loudly than before. Emberchill sat up with an irritated sigh, straightened her robes then stopped, looking up at Thundrax with concern.

He was standing at the corner of the camp, leaning back against a tree. Although he was probably keeping watch quite well through his tracking methods, his eyes were partially closed, heavy with sleep.

“You kept watch all night?” Emberchill asked, frowning.

He nodded, intently watching the forest. Whatever was on his mind, he seemed reluctant to share.

“You should have woken someone at the end of your shift,” she chided, rising to her feet. “When will you sleep?”

Thundrax settled back into the tree. Whether it was to think or to keep him upright, it was hard to tell. He looked tired and stressed.

Arcadi and Sabe busied themselves with packing up the camp and readying their mounts. They knew better than to get in the middle of these discussions.

“I will sleep when we reach Beggar’s Haunt,” he said quietly.

Emberchill said nothing, but her eyes pierced him accusingly, waiting for an explanation. After a few seconds he shifted uncomfortably under her gaze, not meeting her eyes, preferring instead to continue his watch of the forest.

Finally, he rubbed his eyes and explained.

“Green Dragonflight are out in masses at the Grove, guarding the portal to the Emerald Dream. I’ve never seen so many and, while you were sleeping, they started moving into the forest. Not too far, but farther than they are known to venture away from the portal,” he said. “The attacks, the gruesome remains, and now this. It can’t be coincidence.”

He rubbed his eyes again.

Emberchill’s expression softened.

“We should stay until you are rested,” she said.

With an irritated shake of his head, he pushed himself up from the tree. As he turned toward the camp, Sabe pulled out a hunk of cheese from one of the bags and tossed it to him. Reaching out, he grabbed at it about a half second too late. The cheese bounced clumsily in his fingers and fell to the ground with a soft plunk.

“Oh, hell no,” Arcadi said, shaking his head at Thundrax. “We need you functioning at one-hundred percent. Did you even sleep at our last camp?”

The hunter frowned down at the cheese. “I’ll sleep when we get to –”

“Beggar’s Haunt, yeah, we heard you!” Arcadi retorted. “But we don’t know what we’ll find on the road between here and there, and we’re relying on you to get us through the forest as quickly and safely as possible. So just park yourself for now, and we’ll get moving after you’ve rested.”

No one said a word, but Thundrax knew he was defeated when Sabe retied all the of the mounts to the tree.

“I’m going to keep watch,” Sabe said, grabbing her weapons.

Emberchill watched Thundrax unhappily settle down on the ground and nodded.

“I will come with you,” she said.

They stepped out of the camp together, wrapped in shadow. Sabe pulled her cloak over her head and raised an eyebrow at Emberchill.

“You didn’t want to stay in the camp?”

Emberchill shook her head. “He looked unhappy and I did not wish to press my luck.”

She smiled at Sabe’s gruff chuckle.

“Besides,” she said, “I also wish to see what is happening inside of the Grove.”

Their camp was not far from the entrance to the Twilight Grove, a narrow, concealed path that led through a steep, rock wall encircling the portal. When the trees and undergrowth thickened, they knew they were nearing the entrance, it was just a matter of finding it amidst the chaos of the untamed growth. Sabe was climbing up a little higher on the rock wall to avoid the trees when Emberchill pulled her back down and behind a tree. Huddled together, the mage pointed.

It was exactly as Thundrax had told them. Armed guards of the Green Dragonflight were emerging just ahead from the very path they had been looking for, appearing to look for something they didn’t really wish to find.

“Are they…” Sabe breathed.

“Yes,” Emberchill whispered, “they are the Green Dragonflight, dwellers of the Emerald Dream. But what are they doing?”

Sabe shook her head. “I’m not sure. I don’t think they want anything getting near the portal to the Emerald Dream.”

They looked at each other.

“Do you think Thundrax is right, and all of these strange events are connected?” Emberchill whispered.

Sabe shivered.

“Maybe, but it doesn’t make sense. We know for sure that there’s something incredibly evil roaming around the area killing for no apparent reason. They take no money or valuables off of the corpses they leave, nor do they eat what kill. That’s odd in itself. I don’t see how that could threaten the Emerald Dream to mobilize the Green Dragonflight like this,” she whispered, pointing back over her shoulder.

“Nor do I, but –”

Emberchill’s eyes flickered over Sabe’s shoulder and widened. With strength neither of them knew she had, she grabbed Sabe suddenly, whirling her back around in the direction of the path. Two armed dragonkin of the Green Dragonflight were standing before them, watching them with closed eyes. Never before had the two females been so aware of every sound and every movement around them, as they stared back uneasily at the dragonkin.

“Say something,” Sabe whispered, nudging the mage. “You speak Draconic – get us out of this.”

They gave each other a quick, unsure glance, then Emberchill took a deep breath.

“Greetings. We mean you no –”

She started to speak, but stopped as one of the dragonkin emitted a brief, ethereal aura around its body.  With the glow, the dragon’s words were in her head, drowning out all other thoughts.

“You do not belong here, Mortal.“

She tried not to look as relieved as she felt. Many Green Dragonkin had fallen victim to the Emerald Nightmare, and become hostile to most living on the mortal plane. The dragon before them seemed untainted and indifferent – as long as she kept her distance from the Portal.

Blinking her surprise, she answered slowly.

“We are not within the Twilight Grove, and do not intend to seek the portal.”

Although their eyes remained closed, she felt as if they could see right through her. The second dragonkin glowed briefly. A female voice resounded inside her head this time.

“Go now.“

“Why have you and your kin come to the physical realm?”

The first dragonkin sighed and glowed. “The Dark Ones seek the great Power. We must protect the Emerald Dream, lest they fulfill their quest and turn their eyes upon us.“

“I do not understand.”

“Your world is in danger, Mortal. The Dark Ones are coming, and Death himself rides in their wake.“

Now the second dragonkin glowed. “All will seek the Power, and many will die in their quest to obtain it. Those who dwell in this realm must fight or flee or die. All will turn to ash before the Power. Flee before them, Mortal.“

A shiver ran up her spine and cold dread exploded in the back of her brain. She grabbed Sabe again, pulling her back, away from the dragonkin.

“What’s going on?” Sabe hissed through her teeth, as she tried pushing low tree branches out of the way.

Emberchill turned and ran, dragging Sabe with her. “Something is coming,” she said, feeling the urgency of the message that was still buzzing around in her head. “Run!”

“From what?”

The forest was growing darker with every step, and every branch grabbed out for them, slowing their retreat. As the distance grew between them and the Green Dragonflight, the urgency and panic the voices stirred up inside Emberchill’s head started to fade until at last she felt alone in her own head. She stopped and grabbed a tree branch, panting for breath. Turning back to face the shaman, she noted the orc’s calculating expression in the dimming light.

“Something evil is coming,” she said, breathless.

“Can you be a little more specific?”

“No, I am sorry.”

Both of them looked around while they gasped for breath. All was peaceful and still in the darkened wood, save for the gentle breeze tickling the leaves of the trees.

It was too serene. They had to get out of there, fast.

“Very well,” Emberchill said, her voice dropping back to a whisper. “We leave. Then what?”

“Then,” Sabe said thoughtfully, starting to pick her way through the trees, “we fight.”

“What will we fight?”

“No idea. I’m sure we’ll figure something out.”

Emberchill nodded, following the shaman back to the camp. “We always do.”