Tag: collab x 8

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 Human spoke first. “We have already...

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 a...

Fhaliona leapt 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...

Zeno entered the tavern, clearly agitated at the recent turn of events and the fact that is was a busy night with plenty of opportunity for eavesdroppers. She spotted Dizarak near the back bar and marched up to him, smiling briefly at the greeting she received from the various workers near the door.

Diz looked at her with concern. For her to be away from Olathia's side meant something must have happened. “What brings you out tonight?”

Zeno frowned, noticeably different from her usual scowl. “I have more information about our 'friend'.”

Diz's eyes widened as he nodded. “Come with me.” He excused himself from the small group he'd been speaking with and lead her upstairs to speak with one of his mates, another member of the Raven...

Zeno sighed and gently patted Fifalr's neck before releasing him to the skies above Tol Barad. Diplomacy had never been her strong point in life, and even more so wasn't in undeath. She made sure to secure her blades in their sheaths so as to appear as least threatening as possible before entering the tavern. She was not there to cause a scene, which is why she was visiting on an off night as opposed to during their scheduled faction-neutral mixers.

She walked through the door, eyes searching for signs of activity, settling on a pair of employees conversing softly by the fireplace. One of them was an Illidari who worked security and she was hoping he'd be there, and the other... Well, this was unfortunate.

Dizarak Sanar...

“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.”

“Dear 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...