Post by Monday
Korsin nodded and waved Ironbeard into the walker. “Right, we’re heading to KIrthaven first to take out Chloris, then we’ll bust a hole through the Twilight Hammer forces guarding the entrance to grim Batol. If we do this, you’ll help us against whatever’s at Stormwind right?” Ironbeard nodded. “Very well then. Off we go!”
Avery sighed. “I’m not sure if Stormwind can hold out for much longer.” Korsin laid a hand on the priest’s shoulder. “We have no choice, lad. We can’t get all the way down to Stormwind without a lookout, and if we just leave without helping them, there’ll be repercussions for sure.” With that, Korsin entered the pilot’s house, and Black Walker shuddered to life.
Gorgron sat on the top next to the new dwarf as they started north towards the Wildhammer city of Kirthaven. Gorgron watched the background, intent for signs of the Dragonmaw. Ironbeard noticed his scrutiny, and asked, “Ye got kin here in the Highlands?” When the orc nodded, Ironbeard winced. “Ach, I’m sorry.” Gorgron fixed the dwarf with a piercing look. “Why?” he asked, standing up. “Did something happen to them?”
Ironbeard shrugged. “After a two front war against us and th’ Twilight’s Hammer, th’ Dragonmaw lost a huge fraction of their population. What was left were whittled down by elemental attacks and th’ burning of the Krazzworks by, once again, Chloris, when he took most of Northern Highlands. All the remaining Dragonmaw holed up in Bloodgulch, and we haven’t heard a peep out of ‘em since.”
Gorgron flexed his shoulders slightly as he stretched. “I’ll kill Chloris myself,” he growled. “If I have to do it with my own bare hands. In fact, that may be preferable.” Ironbeard said, “Well, that’s the objective. I’m lookin’ to get a shot in at ‘im meself, for what he did to Kirthaven.” Gorgron was struck with the realization that while his kin had been slain by that monster, Ironbeard’s home had been burned and destroyed, and possibly lost kinsmen. Like orcs, the dwarves had a very tightly knit clan community.
“We’ll take him together,” Gorgron declared. Ironbeard smiled. “With both of us having lost to him, it’s only fair that we both get him.” Ironbeard nodded. “Aye, I think I can live with that.” The rest of the trip passed in comfortable silence, until a pall of heavy smoke came into sight over the horizon. “It’s still burning?” Gorgron asked the dwarf. “Aye, Twilight fire does that. When ye get closer ye’ll see that the flames are blue.”
True to his word, the flames were blue and violet as Kirthaven came into sight. Nothing except burned wrecks remained, constantly burned by the fires. The flames leapt far higher than a normal fire would, jumping twenty feet or more in the air with no visible fuel. “It’s a cursed place, this is,” Ironbeard muttered. He slid his rifle from the sheath on his back, checked the load, then stood up fully and started checking about for enemies.
Gorgron narrowed his eyes at the unnatural fire. “Elements curse these flames,” he said, and he felt a rush of anger surge through him, and he knew that Fire was watching. “I will put them out, and slay the pretender.” A rush of passion, anger, hatred and euphoria swept through the orc, as Fire responded to his words. Do it.
Black Walker made no attempt at stealth as it passed into the wrecked town, and soon enough, figures started to gather at the edges of the charred buildings, watching closely. Gorgron spit at what he knew were the cultists, and one leapt at him, only to be knocked out of the air by a bullet. “Don’t irritate ‘em, lad,” Ironbeard admonished. “We’re ‘ere to kill Chloris. Once we do, th’ cultists’ll die in the fires.”
Gorgron nodded, and felt a surge of searing anger at the dwarf, which he knew to come from Fire. Shoving it down, he quietly seethed, until they came to the town square. A figure stood in the center, tall, rocky and firy. “A Fire Ascendant,” Gorgron said, awed. “Of course,” replied Ironbeard. “What else would the commander be?”
The Ascendant raised his hands, and a wave of fire swept at the walker. Gorgron waved a hand, and the unnatural azure fire was swept aside into a group of cultists, who screamed as they were immolated. The Ascendant nodded, undisturbed, and swept forward. He conjured a shield of fire around Gorgron, which started to send spears of flame at him from the inside of the bubble. Gorgron frantically started weaving water around himself, blocking the flames.
Ironbeard sent three shots at the Ascendant, who conjured a shield of fire and force, deflecting the melted bullets into the ground. Avery stood and sent a burst of Light at the Ascendant, which knocked him back in a roar of pain. The Ascendant recovered quickly, and fired a concentrated lance of heat at the priest, who conjured a shield to deflect it back.
Gorgron gathered his will, and shattered the orb of fire, leaping off the top of the walker. The Ascendant remained steady, sending more bursts of heat at the walker, each deflected by Avery. Ironbeard fired another shot just before the Ascendant fired. It caught him in the shoulder, causing him to roar in anger, and several cultists screamed as Chloris lost control of the fire, and it immolated them.
Gorgron came sprinting from behind, but Chloris, so intent upon the walker, didn’t notice. The Ascendant sent three more lances of heat, the first deflected, the second absorbed, and the third shattered the shield. The rock of his face twisted into a grin. “Feel the flames caressing your flesh. Feel them burning your hair and clothes. Feel them destroy you...” he hissed, then jerked in surprise as Gorgron’s hammer crushed the top of his head. “I urge you to do the same,” the Shaman growled, and punched the Ascendant in the face. Fire curled around Gorgron’s hand, and the front of Chloris’s face shattered.
Ironbeard strode up behind the Ascendant, as though this was a normal day in the town, then lifted his rifle and set it against the Ascendant’s head. “This is for Kirthaven, butcher,” he grunted, and pulled the trigger. Chloris’s head exploded, and the body toppled to the ground. The city burst into righteous fire, white, orange and yellow, and the remaining cultists screamed and died.
Ironbeard lifted his rifle and rested it on his shoulder, trading a handshake with Gorgron. “Ye got yerself a fine group ‘ere,” he called to Korsin. Korsin grinned and gave him the thumbs up. “Next up, Grim Batol.”