It had been a few months since the last
time Fhaliona had visited the island of Tol Barad, but not much had
changed. The docks were bustling; the villagers going about their
business of buying, selling, and trading; visitors making their way
from the boats to the inn and tavern to sample the renowned food and drink. She passed several with a slight nod, ignoring the concerned
stares and whispers at her corrupted appearance and focusing as much
attention as she could at blocking the demonic eye on her forehead
from sharing its gaze to its master.
Fhal's gold-shod hooves
clacked on the stone pathway leading up to the house where her
goddaughter and three fathers lived. She gently placed a small
iron-bound trunk on the doorstep and tucked a...
“Look! Even your precious Light is
not immune to corruption. The Black Empire will rise again, and all
of Azeroth will bend the knee to Madness!”
The searing pain left Fhaliona's mind
as the world began to reappear through the veil of darkness that had
overtaken her vision. She shook her head with a growl, flinging sweat
from her brow. N'Zoth's visions had become more vivid and frequent
ever since the eyeball attached to her forehead had opened. She'd
been able to keep all but the worst visions at bay with her innate
holy power until then, but now was a different story. The battle
against the forces of insanity and chaos invading the world had taken
it's toll. Void energy pulsed through her golden tattoos, and she now
When the unlikely trio returned to camp, word of their attack had
already spread like wildfire. The baby was left with the medics while
Dizarak and Fhaliona headed to the barracks for debriefing. The void
male went first, while the Lightforged paced outside pondering
exactly how much threatening she'd have to do to ensure he got his
way. Once he was finished, Diz emerged and shot a look of
disappointment toward Fhaliona. Of course they said no. The
herald poked his head out through the doorway and paled at the look on her
face as she marched up to the building, not needing to be ushered in. The
council had been arguing and seemed in a foul enough mood. She would
have to tread carefully.
The trail the young woman and the guards had made was not hard to
follow, but the scene that unfolded took Fhaliona by surprise. Both
guards were dead, poisoned daggers protruding from their backs
between plates or armor. Fhaliona smiled slightly at this; there was
a reason she'd chosen Diz as her battle buddy, he was nothing if not
skilled. The woman lay motionless in a small pool of blood. Diz sat
off to the side with the small bundle in his lap, staring down at it
with his head in his hands. Fhaliona silently walked up beside him,
peering down into the blanket and meeting a pair of large eyes and a
tangle of blue hair. “Oh.... oh no.... no no no....”
Diz looked up at the almost whisper. “What are we going to do with
from the wagon as soon as it stopped, eyes scanning the war camp for
the commanders' tents. After checking in, she found her gear already
unloaded and a few squires standing ready, unwilling to meet her
gaze. “Hero of Darkshore”. There are plenty of those. These
boys act like they've never seen a hardened soldier before.
She turned to the closest one as he squirmed. “Where's the furthest
tent from here? I need my beauty sleep.” He pointed toward the east
side of camp and they all scrambled to pick up the cots, bedrolls,
and packs of personal supplies. May as well get things
ready before Diz gets here.
Making their way through the camp. Fhaliona caught the usual stares
and whispers, but ignored them as the squires...
“This armor does not fit properly,”
Fhaliona complained to the Dwarf beside her, tugging at the neck with
a gloved hand and making an exasperated face. “How am I supposed to
fight when I don't have range of motion?”
The Dark Iron
peered up at her with a chuckle. “Yer not goin' tae be fightin'.
We're jus' goin' tae talk tae 'im, ye ken?” Moraghlioda turned her
eyes down to the Lightforged's leg. “Yer not s'posed tae strain
that anywho, jus' walkin' an' exercisin' it. And yer proper armor needs repairin'.”
“Yeah, yeah, more 'stay out of
trouble',” the warrior sighed. “I swear everyone thinks I
actually have a death wish.” She picked at the armor again and
spoke more softly. “Do you really think this is going...
The unknown paladin swiftly but
carefully took the warrior back to the medic camp outside the city
walls. Fhaliona would have complained had she not blacked out from
blood loss. Her colleagues who were assisting the wounded took in the
new casualty with shock. The large Lightforged from the war camp
rushed over. “What happened?!”
The Human paladin set Fhaliona down
gently and scoffed, “This idiot tried to take on Saurfang alone.
She's lucky she made it out with only a leg wound.”
Light,” the Draenei muttered just barely under his breath, scooping
Fhaliona up and taking her to the nearest medic while the Human
returned to the battle. He would scold her later when she'd regained
consciousness. A Dwarven medic...
The Lightforged woke well before dawn.
She had not slept much the eve before their march, but this was
normal for one haunted by the things she'd seen and done. At least
today, the spirits and voices of the past would be kept silent. She
began pulling on her clothing, first linen and then layers of leather
that protected her skin from the heavy plate. She drew back the tent
flap and took one last deep breath of fresh air. There was a very
large chance she would not make it out of this battle alive; a deep
sense of foreboding told Fhaliona that the Warchief once again had
something up her sleeve.
“Endal no Talah,” a Kaldorei
addressed her with some reverence as she exited the tent. Fhaliona
regarded the Elf with a nod and made her...