Join Date: Dec 1969
Ravenholdt, Dalaran, Lordaeron and Zul'Dare
Myrokos landed on all fours, knees digging into the dirt. He chanced a glance behind him and saw the portal he had jumped through snap shut. In its place was a view of Venege. A grey haze obscured the city. An unsuspecting merchant would probably assume it was a serious case of chimney smoke or a very inconvenient fog. Myrokos knew better.
"On your feet, Silentform." he heard somebody say in front of him. He turned and looked up at Scavell, who stood offering his hand. Myrokos took it and hauled himself up. Looking past Scavell's shoulder, Myrokos saw Thomassy, the Man in the Mithril Mask and Marshal Sherman. They were standing around the Lightist clerics, amongst which was a warrior that seemed to glow.
So the Lordaeron leadership had made it. But what about the others?
"That was too close for comfort, Scavell. Who did we lose?" he asked, scanning the crowd that had followed him through the portal.
Scavell's voice was grim.
"Several companies of Perinany and most of the Imperial soldiers in the palace. When it came to evacuation we had... priorities."
Myrokos' mouth moved, but no objection came out. Instead Myrokos swung on his heel and began counting his men. He came up short by two.
"Grigori Dosantos, the men I left guarding your magi..."
The Archmage was staring out at Venege. He did not turn to answer Myrokos. That was, until Myrokos grabbed him and spun him around. Grigori curled his lip in disdain.
"Two of my Kirin Mora did not return. Filbert de Niglac says that your agents were with them. I am sure you are disappointed. Their contribution to the war shall be missed. Now if you please, get your plebeian hand off me, before it spoils my victory."
An image of a fist colliding with Dosantos' face flashed through Myrokos' mind. Lindea and Bazil deserved better. Both had served with him many times in the past. Then the instinct was replaced by a dead calm.
He removed his hand from Dosantos' shoulder and walked up to the soldiers of Lordaeron. There were plans to be made. Professionalism was what was needed.
Coming face to face with the Marshal of Lordaeron, Myrokos was shocked to see the man's condition. Black pits circled the Marshal's eyes, and his skin was pale as if he was fighting a fever. The Marshal regarded Myrokos solemnly, but met his eyes without flinching.
"I am sorry for your soldiers. They died well."
"As did yours, I am sure."
Marshal Sherman nodded coldly. Then his gaze shifted. Myrokos saw that he was looking at Marius. For the first time that Myrokos could recall since having met the man, Sherman smiled.
"I see you have captured General Marius. He has been a thorn in my side for a very long time."
"We hardly captured him. He begged for us to take him."
Sherman cocked his head slightly.
"The tactics mirror the man, it seems. But we will have time to deal with Marius later. Venege is no longer suitable as a headquarters. Its people will have to abandon their city in short order as well, if they wish to survive another day. We will have to travel south and meet with the Perinany."
But Mattheus Perinany was very far away, and always on the move. Myrokos folded his hands behind his back and stood rigid.
"It would be my honour, Marshal, to extend an invitation to you and your allies to return with me to Fenris Isle."
"Accepted." Sherman answered immediately. "But you must help us establish contact with General Perinany upon arrival. Our victory must be capitalized upon."
"It will be, Marshal. I promise you it will be..."
A mismatched hundred men and women crowded onto the beaches of Fenris Isle.
The alarm was sounded immediately, but silenced once Ravenholdt realised that it was their own agents who had arrived. Their own agents had returned, and with them had come the remnant of the Perinanies, Kirin Mora and Imperials who had garrisoned Venege.
Grand Master Van Dam faced the crowd with a certain sense of discomfort. Fenris Isle was supposed to be a low-profile outpost, to pass under the notice of the pagan lands around it. And it could not feed so many men, at least not without being resupplied from elsewhere.
"Welcome to Fenris Isle, gentlemen and gentleladies." Van Dam announced. "I warn you in advance, you shall find no comfort here. The Keep is small. Many of you will have to camp outside, and those of you leaders who think you will have a room to yourselves, you are sadly mistaken. Tomorrow, we shall meet in the council halls. Today, you shall rest."
When Barbara Friendly arrived at Fenris Isle, she was hit by a sense of despair. Ravenholdt had been destroyed, and her people had been relocated to this miserable island.
There was no doubt that Fenris Isle would not have been able to hold all of Ravenholdt's personnel, had they all survived the pagan attack.
"Thank you for the shortcut, Jammal Hildebrand. You have saved us weeks, if not months, of dangerous travel. Time that we could ill afford."
The former court wizard of Gilneas flourished a bow.
"It has been a pleasure to work alongside you, Misses Friendly."
"Likewise, Jammal." Barbara said, her voice stiff with pride. "What lies ahead for you now? Will you remain with us? There is a place for you in Ravenholdt, should you wish it."
Jammal looked wistfully towards Fenris Keep, and a little smile appeared at the corner of his mouth.
"I have thought about it long and hard, Misses Friendly." he clucked his tongue. "But, alas, my place is with my country and my people. Gilneas is a broken land. It will take generations to heal. I am needed."
He shook Warren Greystone's hand and kissed Amarian's. Kid Gorgeous received a pet on the head.
"Me too, kitty. Me too."
"My assessment; You have shown remarkable tenacity remaining sane after your experience in the Shadow Realm." Zero-Nine stated, nearly breaking Jammal's hand as he shook it. "I remember this feeling I am experiencing is best described as respect."
Nor did Jammal forget to glare at Drakgyver.
"Jammal." Barbara said, as the former court wizard was about to depart through his portal. "When this war is over, Gilneas will not stand alone. We'll help you rebuild. I promise you."
The former court wizard's eyes became watery and he gave them one last wave. Then he passed through his portal with purpose. It winked out of existence seconds later.
It was time for a debriefing.
Percy Fayette set foot on Fenris Isle once again. With him was an ambassador from the Lordaeron Remnant, a young man who had helped nurse him onto his feet.
When he walked into the council chamber, he came face to face with a certain old timer he had not expected ever to see alive again.
"Agent Friendly!" Percy gasped. His obvious pleasure would have been emphasized by his subsequent blush, but his dark skin helped to cover that one up.
"It is good to see you too, Percy. I hear that if I had arrived a few days earlier, I'd be talking to Robere as well."
There was a very clear sense of loss in her words.
Myrokos Silentform had also returned from his Venege mission. There was a sour look to him, which told Percy that in all likelihood, they had lost more agents. It was a dreadful guessing game until Percy found out which.
"Is that man with you from the Lordaeron Remnant, Agent?" Warester Van Dam asked formally.
Remembering himself, Percy nodded vigorously.
"Yes sir. Introducing-"
"I am Tileot." the young man said. "Tileot Menethil."
After the debriefing, a tired Warester Van Dam retired towards his room. Just as he neared the door, he heard a faint movement inside. All the agents he was sharing his room with had not yet retired to bed.
The Fang of Korialstrasz was in his hand immediately. He peered through the keyhole, and saw a shadowy shape sitting on a chair at the desk.
Kicking the door open, Warester pounced inside.
And saw that it was Relfthra waiting for him. Indecision hit him; Relfthra the Deceiver had last been seen on Zul'Dare.
Was he friend or foe? Attack first, or ask questions later?
Originally Posted by asafoetida
Most of the undead in WC look better than Moira.
Last edited by Timolas : 05-06-2012 at 05:37 PM.