Work Text:
The cold winds of Northrend were enough to drive a well-seasoned soldier back home. Never mind the undead, tentacle monsters, and occasional Vrykul. The war against the lich king was just one of the many things that caused the exodus to Northrend. But for them, it was one man: Brilladore.
“No, no, no, I said a little to the left!” He sighed, standing in the middle of their arcane circle. His arcanists groaned and picked the crystals back up with their magic, and attempted to readjust its position. The aged elf had plenty of energy and screams left in him, so he was determined to get this right.
Captain Janathel Frostwind watched from a few yards away, her bowstring down and ready to fire. She couldn’t help but smile as they struggled to get his demands without reading his mind. Although, it would be nice to get out of the cold. Her eyes barely had time to focus on one thing, always moving. One unseen ghoul could result in one arcanist being burned for the plague infection. They had only been at this camp for six months, a death this early would not look good for them.
“Perfect!” Brill’s joyful scream brought her eyes back to the group. The six mages took a visual brief of relief.
“Man, I have never been so glad to be magically incompetent.” Farstrider Vyri approached her, his red messy bun hanging on its last legs. He kept his bowstring pulled but relaxed every other movement as they stood within two feet of each other.
“I don’t know, I think it would be nice to make our warming crystals now and then.” Janathel laughed. “Is Illineal still around? Or is she with the other four scouts at camp?”
Vyri sighed, the two were far from friends. The young elf was incredibly flexible, but she could never kill any of her targets. Grievous injuries were her specialty, she had seen her training. Yet when it came to a real person, she wouldn’t do a thing. Kill the monster, and burn its corpse. That was the order, and orders were orders. Jana blew her white hair out of her eyes and gave an entertained smile.
“Did you send her back?” She asked.
“After she got scared of a squirrel in the trees, and just stood there petrified…yes. I’m hoping she remembers to send someone back to us.” He traced a smiley face into the snow with his foot.
“Brilladore’s and I’s reports have been sent back to the Ranger General. Should receive a response any day now, and I’d honestly pull her from the Farstriders altogether. Hate to kill her dream though.”
“Better a sad elf than a dead elf,” Vyri added, briefly locking eyes with his Captain.
There was a moment of awkward silence, their eyes wandering to make sure they wouldn’t be ambushed. She was still getting used to her position, officially being in command of a small group, her voice could decide who stays and who leaves. It reminded her of an old book, although she could never recall its name.
She hadn’t been paying attention to Brill and his arcanists, who were getting in position to start their spell. If she heard correctly, he was creating a magical servant completely bound to him. Ideally, it would follow any order without hesitation. In a worst-case scenario, It would try to kill them. Unfortunately, her arrows wouldn’t do anything to it.
“Are we ready? Sabrinal, straighten your arms!” Brilladore yelled as he took his place. Vyri and Jana took a few steps back, leaving several yards between them and the odd summoning circle. He started to walk back to the other side of the ritual, giving them better coverage as the mages started to levitate, and their spell began.
She looked to the north, towards the camp. No one was coming, and it seemed it would be just her and Vyri against anything that arrived.
In the middle of the ritual site, an energetic orb came into being. Lightning tendrils stretched from its core, touching the closest thing it could find. Jana found it eerie, this magic ball with a mind of its own. Brill and his arcanists didn’t notice, concentrating on their channeling to their respective crystals. The longer they went on, the brighter the runes on the ground became. The snow around them melted to some unfelt magic heat, every ounce of energy shooting toward that middle orb.
The orb grew, starting to stretch out into a familiar familiar. His pointed shoulders and needle-like, ghost-like bottom half came into view. The tendrils became less jagged, and more relaxed as the magic began to tame itself.
“You shouldn’t have done that.” A deep voice, an unfamiliar voice whispered in her ear.
On instinct, Jana spun around and released her bowstring. She was face to face with a black-haired human. He looked smug for half a second until her arrow cut his left arm. Then he was annoyed, and Janathel couldn’t grab her dagger fast enough.
A frost bolt pierced her side, the unexpected cold nearly sending her into shock. He proceeded to punch her in the neck, hard. Jana was thrown back at least ten feet, trying to catch her breath and be sure her neck wasn’t broken. The strength didn’t match the body.
“You mortals don’t know what you play with.” He hissed. Janathel got up quietly as his back was turned. Her neck was throbbing, she couldn’t breathe, but she had a job to do. He wasn’t human, but he wasn’t undead either. His blood was bright, he felt pain, and he was breathing. When an arrow came from the side, he caught it and then locked eyes with Vyri.
She focused her eyes on Brill’s ritual. They appeared to be almost finished, still unaware of what was going on around them. Vyri took another shot, only to be pinned to the ground with an arcane barrier. Janathel took a step back and threw herself forward. Her spear posed, she attempted to impale the freak. He turned his head and went for another frost bolt with his free hand, but she dove for his legs. The bolt barely missed her, and she pulled a small knife to go towards his kneecap.
“Almost respectable.” He laughed, teleporting out of the way. Her blade with only small strings of his robe. Jana tried to turn around, but her body was practically screaming for a proper breath of air. A wave of his hand her lower half was pinned under his ice. Vyri was still stuck in the rather small arcane bubble, trying to claw his way out.
Janathel fell back into the mix of snow and mud. Each exasperated breath was more painful than the last. It didn't feel like death, just a cruel sickness. The Human mage stepped inside the ritual circle, inattentive to the canceling blood elves. Then she realized what she was dealing with.
Janathel skimmed reports and warnings of what they may be dealing with within Northrend, but she was too distracted with who was leading it. She knew of the Vrykrul, the undead, Cult of the Damned...but she hadn’t thought much about the Blue Dragonflight. Magic wasn’t an issue with her, any magic she used came from trinkets or rings she’d collect. Heck, the loss of the Sunwell hadn’t even affected her that much. But for Brill and the other mages, all gathered in one, open area, it was a different story.
She tried to push her head upwards so she could see forward, but it was useless. She only now realized the ice was spreading, albeit slowly. She couldn’t bend her waist, and her neck was in too much pain to lift as the shock wore off. Then she heard a man’s scream, and a bright pink explosion went off.
“Excuse you, That was a lot to set up!” The familiar voice of Brilladore scolded. “Although you're a man who desires chaos.”
“Mortals have no use for arcane, consider this mercy.” The dragon who for some reason looked like a man spat. Janathel needed to ask about that later. But right now, she needed to force herself to stab someone.
She tried to recall the setup, a circle with seven crystals, each person behind their crystal. Jana was in between Sabrinal and Lyllel, powerful mages in their own right, but with less compassion than Bril for the arts. Brill was on the opposite side of her, throwing insults at a dragon.
She forced herself up and quickly crawled over to her spear. It was several feet away but gleamed with magic once it was in her hands. Vyri was nowhere to be seen. She wasn’t sure if he went to get help or was thrown into the chaos. But that was a question for later. On her feet, she went to take another sprint forward.
His back turned to Jana, The blue dragon waved his hand to let loose a wave of arcane missiles at Brill. As they went flying, Brill simply snapped his fingers and teleported forward. He appeared right behind the man and gave him a pat on the shoulder. As he went to elbow Brill in the face, He disappeared into a pink puff of smoke.
“Baah.”
Janathel started forward blankly, frozen in her position. Was he serious?
“Which one of you was the portal expert….Sabrinal! Can I get a portal to somewhere not related to SIlvermoon or Northrend?” Brill sighed. “Afraid we’ll have to do this another day.”
“Brill.” Jana said.
“Jana! Are you alright, your neck looks a little swollen.” He picked up the sheep as Sabrina opened a portal.
“Briladorel, you polymorphed a bloody dragon..”
He didn’t respond right away, leading Jana to share glances with the other deeply confused images. Sabrinal stepped aside, more curious than anyone else. He put his hands and sheep into the portal, then dropped the sheep. He then gestured for her to close it, and went on like it was another day.
“I did! You are very welcome, although your neck needs a check-up.” He approached her with concern.
“What in the sunwell did I sign up for?” Lyllel moaned, then jumped as Very suddenly appeared behind her. Jana was glad to know he was still alive.
“A wonderful adventure of discovery!” Brill clapped and gestured for them to head back north, unphased by everything. The arcane cycle began to dim, and Jana decided its cleanup had nothing to do with her. As they began the walk, He ordered two of the mages to take the back and stay on alert until they hit the mountain path, they were less likely to be ambushed.
“Respectfully, Magister, you didn’t kill him, he’ll come back.” A mage pipped up as Vyri joined Jana’s side. They had been together awhile, but Jana sucked at names.
It was an awkward walk back, Jana Removing her cape to cover her head as the cold got harsher. Brill was energetic as ever, Vyri was traumatized, and those left behind at the camp seemed very interested in why Jana’s neck was swollen and Brill was empty-handed.
“Wow…I guess early enemies are one way to do it.” Forgemaster Jazzcyn commented, rather impressed. He rocked back and forth on his heels, happily sipping his hot cider as the mages worked on the warming crystals. He hadn't much to do since Brill had been gone for most of the day for setting up. He seemed almost eager for something to break so he had a job to do aside from handing out rations.
The mages dispersed, heading to their side of the barracks. At least, that was the official name they told their employers. It was just an elaborate cave that held heat very well. Once the smell of the burning animals they killed it claimed it cleared, it was home sweet home. It was a large opening with a small rock wall, but mostly a storage box. On the left, were Janathel’s farstriders. On the Right, were Brilladora’s Images. Although Jana was convinced one of them was a secret warlock.
Janathel sat inside the medics' tent in silence, their priestess washing her hands before doing a prayer with a necklace in tow. Her elegant robes were odd for the environment, but she had use. Zialynn turned to face her, a smug look on her face.
“Let me guess, you could have dodged it.” She remarked as she kneeled to touch her throat.
“One punch and you’d be crying to some magical shape to save your butt.” Janathel threw back.
“They are called the Naruu.”
“Sounds like a Zealot's words.”
“Sounds like someone who doesn’t need healing after all.”
They stared daggers at each other for a brief moment until Janathel let her eyes wander off. Zialynn wanted to say something but kept her mouth shut. For the first time in nearly an hour, She felt her neck begin to relax. She much preferred druids healing, but she’d deal with it. The relief was welcome, and she could breathe again.
“Thank you,” Jana said, and Zialynn returned with a nod. She wasn’t the biggest fan of light users, in her opinion, magic given my entities would turn on you eventually. But ZIalynn knew how to do her job at least.
When she came out of the medics tent, the Farstriders had gathered around a bonfire and seemed to be enjoying themselves. All but one: Illineal. If Jana had to guess, she was hidden in the cave, probably crying in a corner. But before she could join the group, a loud whistle silenced them.
“Captain Frostwind, I’m afraid I need you for a moment.” Brilladore peaked out of the commander's tent. Still seemingly unphased about earlier events. She nodded and headed towards the tent as he disappeared inside.
“I think we heard back from Silvermoon.” Vyri spoke softly, just enough for only the Farstriders and Janathel to hear. She gave another wordless nod and finally headed inside.
Brilladore sat at his wide red desk, a neat stack of papers on each side. He was a short and lanky old man, with a few obvious wrinkles that made him look like he was in his fifties by human standards. He was in far better shape than the screamer's leader, Voren’thal. He looked like he could croak any day now. His frazzled and spiky brown hair looked like it was blown up. She always wondered if that was on purpose.
“Silvermoon sent troops to our door while we were playing with fire in the south. It's easier to sneak in through Grizzly Hills.” He poured out two glasses of wine and offered her one. She pulled up a chair and took it. “You're oddly quiet.”
“It’s been a long day.” She mused, taking a sip. “Are we still running?”
“It's easier to send the odd artifact or two here and claim vigilantism, instead of explaining to the horde why we have an artifact we shouldn’t.” He gestured to a glowing box, tightly locked with runes around it.
“Maybe I’ll get him to send more bread.” She propped her feet on his desk. “Did he say anything in our reports?”
He pulled out two papers from his left stack and used his arcane to float them over to her outstretched hand. He knew exactly who she was wanting to look at it. Jana eagerly scanned the page. Illineal Bloodblade, only fifty years old, found a preference for daggers to do her job. When she reached the response paragraph, she frowned. Brill noticed and shared the sentiment.
“Captain Frostwind, I acknowledge Illineal may prove difficult. I am pleased to see she has incredible skill when practices are conducted within camps, as she had back home. Her fear of the unknown still holds her back, and the only way to bypass this is to face it. With this in mind, I will deny your request that the young Farstrider be removed and replaced immediately. I trust you may resolve this issue.” Jana read aloud in a mocking voice.
“And what fool signed off on this?”
“Ranger Captain Elise.”
“I’m convinced she’s Lor'themar secret love child, my goodness.” Brill sighed. “I mean this in the best of ways, but Sending her here is a death sentence for all involved. I;m sure three of you against a dragon with two hands would be an entirely different story.”
“Still haven't addressed today's incident with her. Maybe we should make her a runner.” Janathel mused, motioning for Brill To fill the empty glass.
“Well, You have my full permission for odd punishment. I don’t know if you plan on using the motherly approach or not. But, at least the other five are decent, right?” Brill took the papers from her and added them to the pile with one hand, and magically levitated his wine bottle to put more for Jana with the other. Neither knew how long this could last. They survived the six-month test, now it was just a matter of how long would this war last.
“Vyri works well, He's a perfect far shooter if we’re ever in need. I’d even recommend him as my replacement if I get removed from kicking our dear ranger-captains butt. Mylinel and her dragon hawk are great for distractions and fighting in general. Erialina Isn’t the best hand-to-hand, but she’s a good sleeper. Cantlin can handle both swords and crossbows well, nothing remarkable, but it's good to have him. Analysis I question, but he does his best and doesn’t run away when he gets scared. And I can appreciate a fellow spearman.”
They hadn’t done too much while they were here, but her rangers were good soldiers for the most part. It helped her and Brill were on the same page: They weren’t canon fodder. Every life had value, even cowards.
“Well, I’ll let you go. I need to discuss repairs and upgrades with Forgeboy Jazcynn. The others are waiting, just make sure you talk to Illineal before the flights end. Maybe convinced to leave on her own accord.” Brill spoke, spinning his chair in an endless circle. “I don’t plan on anyone dying.”
Jana nodded and got up to leave. She stopped just before opening the curtain and turned to face Brill to say a final word.
“No, I am not firing Zialynn.”
Jana sighed and walked to the bonfire without another word.