Frostfire Ridge: Safe Passage

Cordana's spy network has finally found a trace of Gul'dan's Shadow Council near Throm'var in the northern reaches of Frostfire Ridge. Cordana is watching the area while Khadgar heads to Frostwall to meet with the Horde commanders there. But when he arrives, nearly taking an arrow for his troubles, he's informed they're at a celebration to the west with the Frostwolf clan. He takes wing again, not eager to push his welcome, and heads to Wor'gol. It is dusk as he arrives and the party is well underway. Cautious after his earlier close call, he lands on a post near Kaz and caws.

 

The troll narrows his eyes at him and reaches over to Gorla, shoving her shoulder and nearly spilling her ale and sending her grey ponytail swinging.

 

"Hey! What- oh, is that you, Khadgar?" She grins, skin wrinkling around her tusks, clearly in a good mood. "Come, I'll introduce you. Frostwolves!" Those nearest turn to her as she sways and he can see the other commanders and Go'el and his family among them. "This is Khadgar, an ally of ours! Make him welcome!"

 

There are a few confused and concerned looks among the Frostwolves that don't recognize his raven form and more than a few gasps once he sheds it. He bows deeply immediately, trusting Gorla to stay any twitchy axes. "Throm-Ka, warriors of the great Frostwolf clan." He smiles warmly as he stands. "It is good to see you again, Chieftain."

 

Durotan studies him with his cool blue eyes under the wolf cowl and nods, somber. "Welcome, Archmage, to our home. You have come at a good time. Today we repelled the Iron Horde from our lands. Tonight we feast and honor our dead. You are welcome to join us."

 

Khadgar glances at Gorla as she finishes chugging her beer, suppressing a feeling of dismay. "I thank you for your offer, Chieftain. I would be glad to join your celebration." It's not like he'll get far with any plans tonight but at least they can start first thing in the morning.

 

Gorla throws her arm over his shoulder and he nearly stumbles under the weight. "That's the spirit, mage! Come and have a drink or ten! Let me stir your heart with tales of the battles we fought today!" Before he can protest powerful arms drag him to a bonfire and a mug of something potent is shoved into his hands. To his surprise it tastes of cherries and doesn't make him cough nearly as much as he expected.

 

Gorla regales him with the story of that day's battles while Kaz slaps his back for him. Durotan planned their strike against the Thunderlord clan for daybreak when the clan's beasts would be least alert. Nearly every Frostwolf volunteered for the assault, eager to seek vengeance for Iron Wolf's ambush that killed Durotan's father and sold his brother, Ga'nar, into slavery. Khadgar had met Ga'nar when they freed the orc in Tanaan and knew him to be a fierce, if brash, warrior. The Horde forces also joined the attack, partly at Go'el's request that they aid his father and partly because the Thunderlord allied with the Iron Horde. After a fierce fight Durotan, his mate Draka, Ga'nar, Go'el, and the commanders confronted the dying Iron Wolf only to discover he was Durotan's eldest brother, Fenris. He betrayed and killed their father, selling every Frostwolf he could catch as slaves. He laughed as he died, saying the Iron Horde was nearly there.

 

Shaken but with no time for rest, Durotan ordered them to Thunder Pass. It was a narrow path through the mountains, the only land route connecting Frostfire Ridge to Gorgrond. If they could hold it for long enough, the shaman Drek'thar could convince the elementals to bring the cliffs down, blocking the pass. If the Iron Horde broke through, their superior numbers and technology would wipe the Frostwolves out. The battle was vicious and for every Iron Horde grunt they killed, two more seemed to take their place. The commanders focused on taking out the larger threats. Gorla personally hacked a cannon apart by herself while Kaz kept anyone from reaching Drek'thar and interrupting his focus. For a time it seemed they would succeed.

Then the gronn arrived.

 

It was young, barely a thirty foot tall hunched cyclops, but still savage and dangerous. The Thunderlord had been trying to tame them and with the arrival of this one the Frostwolves learned they had succeeded. Durotan ordered all to focus on the beast and Ga'nar landed a blow in its single eye almost immediately, blinding it. Gorla kept the beast's attention, smashing its kneecap whenever Kaz or Norman hit it in a tender spot. Zi harried its backside while Kanu kept their health up. Working with the Frostwolves they finally brought the beast down.

 

A horn sounded Over the ridge to Gorgrond were a dozen more, supported by more cannon and what seemed like a thousand troops.

 

Durotan sounded the retreat. Drek'thar only needed a little more time and he and his brother would give that to him. But Ga'nar shook his head and told Durotan to keep their people safe before charging into the pass alone. He fought like a whirlwind, holding the line and cutting down any that tried to pass him. Just as he began to be overwhelmed, Drek'thar finally had enough power to bring the pass down right on the Iron Horde's heads and Ga'nar's cry of 'Lok-tar!'

 

"Lok-tar!" The orcs around them match the victory cry with a cheer of their own, raising mugs to Ga'nar's sacrifice.

 

"He fought well," Gorla says, filling her mug again.

 

"Prone to rage, though." Zi frowns. "He challenged Durotan to mak'gora yesterday over who would be chieftain."

Khadgar looks up from his mug, surprised. "Durotan won, I assume?"

 

Zi shakes her head. "He stood there and told Ga'nar to strike him down if he really thought that's what was best for the Frostwolves."

"Ga'nar changed his mind." Gorla is frowning, too, the wrinkles on her face settling deeper. The mak'gora is a sacred challenge, not to be issued lightly. "He was young, untempered. But he fought well today. His spirit will be honored."

 

Khadgar glances over at the larger bonfire where Durotan sits with his family and his clan. They won today, but Durotan lost both brothers in the fighting. Go'el, strange among them for his green skin, listens raptly to the Frostwolves' tales. "Has he told them yet?"

 

Norman surprises him by snorting and he looks back at the Forsaken. "Hardly. He acts like a Light-struck child around him."

Kanu flicks his ears. "Do you not think that appropriate, given their relationship?"

 

Norman shrugs his bone shoulders and keeps his voice low. "They haven't one. This Durotan has no son. He is not Go'el's father."

 

"That may be true," Zi says softly, "but it is as close as he will ever come." They all watch as Durotan laughs at something Go'el has said, slapping the older orc on the back.

 

"So, why you be here, Khadgar? You didn' come all dis way jus' to celebrate a victory you knew no'ting about." The troll is raising a curious eyebrow at him.

 

Khadgar dips his head in acknowledgment. "True, my friend, though you seem to have handled it well enough." His smile dims. "I have news of the Shadow Council operating near Throm'var."

 

Gorla spits. "Warlock filth. Not you, Norman." The Forsaken tilts his head down in acknowledgement. "What are they up to?"

 

"We are not certain. I was hoping one of you would accompany me in the morning to investigate and give Cordana and myself safe passage."

"I'll go. Gladly." Gorla grins, fierce in the light of the fire. "Owe those bastards plenty."

Khadgar bows gratefully. "I will be most pleased to have you. We should also let Durotan know. Frostfire is his territory now, yes?"

Gorla nods. "With the Thundermaw and the Iron Horde both driven out, yes. He'll want the Council dealt with."

"In the morning, then. For tonight, would the Frostwolves appreciate fireworks?"

"I would!" Zi bounces, nearly spilling her ale. 

Gorla laughs at her. "They probably haven't seen them before. I'll ask Durotan."

"Wonderful. I'll make sure to put on quite a show." 

 

It's a good way to make friends, after all.
  

 

 

Frostfire Ridge: Seeking Corruption

He lands in the pristine snow, raven's feet crunching it as they return to human boots. The sun is bright but the light is thin and there's a thickness to the air that he knows well.

 

"Khadgar." Cordana's grim voice greets him from beneath her helmet, echoing slightly. Her matte grey plate armor barely reflects the light but she draws her green cloak closed over it anyway. "I was just explaining the situation to Gorla." The orc nods to him, seemingly none the worse for wear after last nights festivities.

 

"Indeed. The Shadow Council is nearby and with them, Gul'dan." He looks out over the dunes. "I can feel it."

 

Gorla spits into the snow at Gul'dan's name. "Let's get you to Throm'var, then. Perhaps they found the clue you missed." He sees Cordana's shoulders stiffen slightly, but she follows the orc silently despite the snow. "Throm-ka!" Gorla raises a hand as they approach, greeting the hunter keeping watch at the canyon's entrance. He salutes Gorla with a fist over his heart, spine straightening, and gives a curious look to Khadgar and Cordana. They're likely the first human and elf he's seen.

 

"The Farseer is expecting you. This way." He turns to lead them to the village's center. Gorla follows, Khadgar at her side, while Cordana watches their backs.

 

Khadgar studies the villagers as they pass. There's a sense of tension in the air and more than a few faces that are surprised to see them turn to cold hostility. He overhears a few snippets of terse conversations, echoing off the rock walls, and as the ground quivers slightly a few hands come up to point fingers at them.  "Commander, if you'd be so kind as to make our introductions," Khadgar says softly.

 

Gorla snorts. "Good to see you've got some wisdom with that grey hair." She ignores the people staring as their guide reaches the central bonfire. An old orc climbs to his feet, dressed in a blue tunic decorated with uncut gems. A shock of white hair juts from his chin matched by the white mohawk on his scalp. His right tusk is broken. Despite his age he's not frail, though he cannot seem to reach his full height. Gorla straightens her spine.

 

"Farseer Urquan, I am Gorla, savior of Wor'gol, Commander of the Horde." Her voice is proud and strong, carrying easily over the snow. "Durotan sends us with urgent news and orders to aid my friends in stopping a great evil."

 

Urquan regards them with a slow nod, no surprise on his features. Likely the wind whispered of their coming long before they arrived. "Champion of the Frostwolf clan," he replies, letting his voice carry as well, "if they are friends of yours, then they are welcome here."

At the edges of the clearing there's a few disgruntled faces as orcs turn to leave. But there are also hopeful ones and Khadgar catches more than a few words discussing the Frostwolf Champion's arrival. Gorla had been a good choice.

 

"Wolf-sister," Urquan continues, voice softer now. "Already word has traveled to us of your actions at Wor'gol. You have the eternal respect of the Frostwolf." He turns slightly, finding his seat again and there's an audible creak as he settles back into it. "Now, who are these strangers that you have brought to us and what is this urgent matter?"

 

"Greetings, Farseer." The mage bows. "I am Archmage Khadgar and this is Warden Cordana Felsong. We seek the warlocks of the Shadow Council."

The night elf steps forward. "A demonic force has infected some of the beasts in this region. We're certain the Shadow Council is involved, but we've yet to pinpoint them."

 

Urquan's face is grave. "We have seen this corruption you speak of. The Mother of Wolves has not been herself lately. Now, her pack has her surrounded. The wolves are protecting our hunters and will not let them near." He raises an eyebrow at Khadgar. "They're not likely to stop you, though." The shaman gives a heavy sigh and turns his attention to Gorla. "If the alpha mother is infected with this fel energy, then she must be put down. You would greatly honor the Frostwolves by returning with her corpse and giving it a proper burial."

 

Gorla salutes him. "It will be done."

 

Urquan returns it, sorrow crossing his features. "Please be swift and merciful. The Mother of Wolves is the true victim here." Khadgar frowns slightly. Slaying the Mother won't help them find Gul'dan but leaving her corrupted won't help matters, either.

 

She's pinned down on a rock  outside of the village by five of her pack while five more lie unmoving in the snow. She's monstrously huge, even for the wolves here, and her fur is glowing and shimmering with fel, the green energy almost steaming off of her. "This is more severe than I'd imagined," Khadgar says grimly. This corruption isn't a side effect of whatever the warlocks are doing here. This was done on purpose.

 

"Let's make it quick." Gorla secures her shield and draws her axe. "Ready? Lok'tar ogar!" She charges through the pack, aiming for a clean strike against the Mother's neck but the fel wolf's reflexes are unnaturally fast. Khadgar Slows her as Cordana creeps around behind, joining the pack in harrying her flanks. Gorla repositions and charges in again. This time her shield connects, sending the Mother sprawling with a yelp. She staggers to her feet and mutates, fel corruption growing a ridge of spines down her back and two, muscular looking tentacles sprout from her shoulders.

 

She snarls, leaping at Gorla and the weight of her striking the orc's shield makes her stagger back. The tentacles reach up and over the wooden barrier to strike at Gorla's head but an arcane blast from Khadgar knocks her away. This time while she's down he freezes her feet in place. Before she can react to the ice, Gorla's on her again and her axe strikes true. The cut is deep and Cordana and the wolves pull back to see if it's enough. The Mother gives them a weak growl, then slumps into the snow.

"Easy," Gorla soothes. "Easy. It's alright." The great wolf huffs once more and then goes still. Gorla rests a hand in her green fur. "Damn warlocks," she spits, holstering her axe and shield. Around them the wolf pack creeps in, nosing at their alpha. As one, they raise their muzzles and howl. Gorla waits for them to finish before she moves to pick up the body.

"Are you alright to carry her?" The ground shakes again beneath their feet and they all stagger.

"I'll be fine, mage. Gul'dan turned my skin green long ago, what's a little more fel?"

 

Khadgar stares at her. Of course, the Mother's corruption would've spread to the other wolves, and eventually their riders. That had been the warlock's goal. "Gul'dan?"

She laughs mirthlessly, settling the Mother's weight across her shoulders. "I was one of the younglings he aged. Sacked Stormwind at the age of six." She turns and starts walking.

 

Khadgar scorches the fel blood from the ground before he and Cordana hurry after. "I'm sorry."

 

Gorla attempts a shrug under the weight she's carrying. "It's long done. We've all rebuilt. I hear Stormwind's walls are higher than ever. Until the dragon, anyway."

 

"Deathwing only damaged them, thankfully. Destruction wasn't the goal of his visit. I've heard Orgrimmar was a sight to see."

"Until the rebellion." She laughs again, a little more genuine. "Garrosh may have turned into a piece of shit, but he built great things his first year as warchief." She jerks her head. "There's the graveyard. Make a hole, mage."

Khadgar looks confused. "How- oh. That's going to be quite loud, you know."

"The ground is already shaking." It quivers again, as if on cue.

 

"Very well. Stand back please."

 

The resulting BOOM! Echoes over the snow for some time, bringing Throm'var and their wolves running. When they see the Mother being laid to rest  mournful howls from wolves and orcs alike fills the air. In silence they all return to the village and the crackling warmth of Urquan's bonfire.

 

"It is done, then." The old orc nods knowingly at them. "Thank you for showing the Mother of Wolves her proper respects. She will be avenged." The ground shakes again, violently, rattling the tents and people alike. "Someone calm the wolves! Something has awoken Shui Halad, the Sleeper, perhaps those that may seek to corrupt her? Either way, Shui Halad must be put to rest before her thrashing collapses all of the north into the ocean. The hunters should be back when you return and we will hear what they have found about your Council."

 

Khadgar finds it interesting that Urquan assumes they'll do this but Gorla is already nodding. They are given wolves to ride, which Khadgar declines in favor of his raven form, and directions to the Sleeper's cave. "I hate caves," is all Gorla says before they leave. The wolves' gait eats the distance quickly and Khadgar spots the cavern from the air easily. He dives down to the entrance and the other's join him. It's a black scar in the ground, the obsidian earth sparkling darkly against the snow around it.

"I hate caves," Gorla says again, prepping her weapons. Khadgar frowns at the opening, not liking the feeling he's getting. The ground shakes. "Let's go already."

They follow her down, Khadgar's staff lighting the way. A deep voice echoes up from below. "Do you feel the power they're drawing on? (It's the naaru in Nagrand!)"

 

"That's Cho'gall!" Gorla snarls and runs forward. Khadgar and Cordana chase after her, the three bursting into a huge cavern.

 

"We should subjugate these Pale orcs and the- (Intruders! Let's leave.)"

 

Khadgar flares his light so they can see and Cho'gall is there, or at least an image of him. The ogre's two heads smile nastily at them, giving a little wave as the image winks out. The rest of the cavern is dominated by the monstrous armored worm at the center, towering out of the ground even taller than the gronn. Surrounding it are pale, emaciated humanoids that channel dark magic into it. The ground shakes constantly and the Pale orcs turn and hiss at the sudden light.

 

"On me!" Gorla shouts a battle cry and charges to the nearest white figure. The Pale use shadow magic against them, leeching at their life and minds.

"I will keep them off you," Cordana yells, cutting the orc down. "You focus on the worm!"

 

The fight is fierce and Shui Halad's armor is thick. Gorla and Khadgar work on weakening the plates enough to hit the soft flesh beneath while Cordana dances around them with her circular glaive, cutting down any that get too close. The shadow magic pulls at their thoughts, stroking their fears and doubts, but they've all faced the Void before. Working with Gorla, the worm falls, curling in on itself where it sticks out from the ground. The Pale scatter, fleeing from Cordana's wrath now that their prize is gone.

 

Khadgar crouches to inspect one of their foes. "Gorla, what are these?" Khadgar turns the Pale's head. It's eyes are as pale as its skin and lack pupils, like it can't see with them. Yet they had no trouble attacking. It's skin is almost completely white and hairless except for what seem to be ritual scars and tattoos. It has tusks like a normal orc, but it's far thinner and more wiry than even an adolescent.

The warrior shakes her head. "We'll ask Urquan. Anything I could tell you comes from stories meant to frighten children."

 

The sun is midday when they emerge and the wolves carry them quickly back to Throm'var. A fresh clefthoof carcass signifies the hunter's successful return but the village doesn't seem as happy about this as he would expect. They discover why as they reach the bonfire where Urquan is pacing, livid.

 

"I have word from my hunters," he bites out without pleasantry. "They have seen glowing green eyes in Icescar Boneyard to the west. These filthy warlocks are desecrating the dead in the boneyard." The shaman is so furious he's trembling. "I WANT THEM DEAD! Destroy the necrophytes. Destroy their demonic abominations! No creature should be subjected to what they're doing down there."

"Don't worry, Farseer," Cordana assures him. "We came solely to end their corruption. It sounds like they've conjured demonic eye sentries. We should be careful."

"Hm. If we can get the lead warlock's All-Seeing Ring, then we can use their 'eyes' against them."

"Then what are we waiting for? Let's go."

 

The Boneyard is about as far as the Sleeper's cave was. The entrance is between two obsidian spikes and the ground slopes sharply past them to meet the sea. The bones of many creatures rest here from giant clefthoof to the smaller wolves. And it is absolutely crawling with warlocks. They've set up summoning circles, using the wolves' skeletons to house demonic spirits. The glowing green bones patrol the area with the floating green saucer sized 'eyes'. But for all the numbers here the warlocks are inexperienced  acolytes at best and fall easily before them. Ogzor, their leader, is a bit more of a challenge and Gorla bears the brunt of his fel magic before he falls.

"Are you alright?" Khadgar tries to get a look at her armor where the felfire got past her shield.

 

She grunts. "I'll be fine. Get your ring so we can get back to the shaman." He does as he's told, collecting the ring of blackened metal with an ugly purple stone set in it. The ride back is slower with Gorla hiding a grimace with every jolt. Urquan greets them, still angry at the Council's actions but able to see to their needs. He asks the elements' aid to soothe Gorla's wounds.

 

"For what they've done, it is not enough." Water and spirit swirls around Gorla, mending her flesh. "When you find their base, you salt the earth."

 

"Khadgar," Gorla calls. "You can find it now?"

 

"Yes." He's holding the ring distastefully. "I can summon one of their 'eyes' with this. We'll be able to see through it and discover where the Shadow Council is located and what they're really up to."

 

"What do you mean, mage? Was desecrating our animals and our graves not enough?"

 

"I'm afraid the Council is capable of far worse. Let's see while you finish seeing to Gorla." He summons an eye, the ring projecting an image for all to see. The fel green sphere has a purple slit down its front and as it regards them, they see their image above the ring. "Return to that which made this ring." The eye zooms away, gone in the blink of, well, an eye. The image above the ring zooms over the snow and sharp obsidian spikes, falls down a cliff, and through a cavern guarded by a purple veil of energy. He doesn't recognize where it is but Urquan breathes in sharply.

"That cave is inside the Gloomspire. Those are the ruins of Ata'gar to the west."

 

"Great," Gorla grunts. "More caves." The eye slows coming around a bend reveals four figures, one of them an image.

 

"Gul'dan is with them!" If they move quickly…

 

The spined orc's back is to the eye and the others are kneeling to him. "It's most of the Shadow Council. We should have killed them at the Dark Portal, consequences be damned."

"We'll catch them here, elf."

 

"Rise, old friends," the Gul'dan in the image speaks, his craggy voice echoing in the cave and translating oddly through the eye. The orcs and ogre stand. "The time has come for the next step of my plan. Teron'gor," he addresses the image of an orc wearing a great horned helmet. "We'll finish your Shadowmoon business together. I'm sending you to Talador. Infiltrate the Auchenai. Take control of Auchindoun. Bleed it dry."

The image bows. "It will be done, Lord Gul'dan."

"Cho'gall, I'm sending you to Nagrand. You'll subjugate the fallen naaru inside Oshu'gun."

 

The ogre's one-eyed head lets out a little whoop of glee and the two-eyed one answers first. "I will crush it! (The Pale are the key.)"

 

"All I require is its limitless power. Giselda, you stay here." The female orc salutes. "I have other plans for…what is behind me?" Gul'dan turns, staring right at them. "Eye, what are you looking at?" He grins, hands glowing with fel. "It's all fun and games until-" The image cuts out as the felbolt connects.

 

"We must move quickly, hopefully we can catch them all." He tucks the ring in his satchel, ignoring the attention Cordana gives the action. "How are you feeling, Gorla?"

 

"Like I'm ready to take some warlock heads. Let's go."

 

The ruins are far to the west and it takes the rest of the day to ride there. They pause on the crest of snow overlooking the pit where fel energy has melted away all the ice, baring the rock which is starting to show signs of corruption. "Remember the magical barrier?" It had been purple to the eye but Khadgar can only see it now if he enhances his vision. It looks like a shear rock wall otherwise. "It's being powered by demon crystals. The Burning Legion has a habit of making demon parts serve as the keys to such devices." He looks over the camp, letting his enhanced sight fade. "There." He points to the monstrous infernal chained to the cliffs on the northern edge. "I bet we need its heart."

"We should eliminate as many of the flunkies as we can," Cordana adds coldly, grip tightening on her glaive. "They'll scatter all over Draenor once we've dealt with Gul'dan. Every Shadow Council member we kill now is one less headache later."

"As if I need an excuse to end this filth." Gorla snorts. "Infernal first. Before they know we're here and turn it against us."

 

Fighting infernals is never easy. They're little more than fel-animated rocks, housing a demon spirit that laughs as they attack. Orc and elf weapons clang against it, seeking magically bound joints to try and force the creature into pieces, but it's on Khadgar to do the bulk of the work. He freezes and heats the rocks of the infernal's body repeatedly until it shatters into pieces. Its core, the heart, falls to the ground with a thump, a black sphere with green lines crackling across its surface.

 

Khadgar bends to pick it up, trusting his gloves to shield him from the heat and fel. "Yes, this has been attuned. There are three crystals here in the ruins. Once we destroy them the barrier will fall and we can go after Gul'dan." The crystals are easy to find. Not only are they big but fel corruption spreads out on the ground beneath them. The glow gives the ruins an eerie look as the sun sets. Near the crystals are sacrificial rocks, jutting upright from the ground. Orcs are suspended in the air in front of them, bound by chains. The warlocks have drawn their life from them, using it to make themselves more powerful.

But they're still little more than acolytes for all they know how to use it. It seems outside of the infernal, poorly summoned considering it was bound by chains, they've only learned to summon felhounds. They're most dangerous to Khadgar, able to literally eat his spells and siphon his mana, but between Gorla and Cordana they never get close enough to do so. As the last crystal breaks, the cliffwall shimmers and disappears, revealing the cave where Gul'dan waits.

 

"Be careful, my friends," Khadgar says as they approach. "Gul'dan is not to be underestimated no matter how prepared we might be." The passage is lit by torches as the creep forward and around the bend, just as the eye showed, is a large cavern. Gul'dan and Giselda are the only warlocks present in front of an alter, but along the far wall are more sacrificial stones, the orcs bound to them writhing in agony.

 

"Lok'tar ogar!" Gorla snarls and charges forward, her axe catching on one of Gul'dan's spines. A fel barrier springs to life around him, shoving her back and causing the fireball Khadgar throws to splatter to the ground.

"WHAT?!" He seems shocked to see them but a haughty look is already taking its place as Gorla's axe slides off the magic again. "I am not that easy. I won't lower myself to fight you, but," he grins, "I have an idea." He turns to the other warlock. "Giselda, my beauty, your time has come."

 

"What?" Giselda suddenly looks terrified and bolts but chains snap out from the altar, catching her. "No!" Gul'dan wrenches the life force from the bound orcs and they slump, lifeless. He pours fel energy into Giselda and her form swells, limbs lengthening as she grows two extra pairs of arms. Swords form in two of her hands as the chains release her, and she glares at them. Khadgar has never seen it done but Gul'dan just summoned a demon into someone, using their form to house it.

"Shivarra," he warns his companions as Gul'dan laughs, still in his protective bubble.

"Have fun dealing with this."

It's a hard battle. The demon's two blades are quick enough to parry most of their melee attacks and shivarra are skilled enough in magic, and with four free arms to counter gesture, that even his spells have trouble finding purchase. Khadgar settles on ice attacks, trying to slow her down, while he uses Atiesh to warp time for his allies, letting them all move and react faster. Gul'dan watches their every move, eyes calculating. Cordana loses her helmet, one of the blades catching its wings and sending it flying. Her silver eyes narrow angrily as the other blade gets caught in Gorla's shield. Khadgar manages to bind the demon's arms. "Now!" He can feel the demon already slipping free but Cordana uses the arm sweeping up to stop her as a springboard, vaulting high enough to reach the creature's neck. The glaive slices once and a spray of blood goes flying, painting the melee and ground. The demon gurgles something as she falls to her knees, the fel light fading from her eyes. Her form shrinks back to Giselda's as she collapses into the stone.

 

Gul'dan has already summoned a portal when they turn to face him, his barrier still up. "No matter," he says dismissively. "There will soon be enough felblood to make thousands for the Burning Legion. Farewell, Khadgar." Gul'dan grins at him. "We'll meet again." And he's gone.

 

There's a moment of silence. "Unfortunate," Khadgar pants, leaning on his staff. Gorla throws her shield aside, useless now, while Cordana searches for her helmet. "But now we know more. I can make a portal back to Throm'var when we're ready."

"I don't like that he knows you by name." Cordana scowls, her shorn head making her ears look comically big. She bends and lifts her helmet, revealing a bent wing. She tucks it under her arm. "He must have spies among us."

 

"Likely," Khadgar agrees as Gorla growls.

 

"Weak fools. Gul'dan cannot be trusted."

 

"Something I suspect they'll learn the hard way. In the meantime I know where to direct my spies next."

 

Gorla holsters her axe. "The Alliance garrison is in Shadowmoon, isn't it?"

 

Khadgar nods. "And Karabor, the draenei temple. They're aiding Velen there."

"Velen came?" Gorla sounds genuinely surprised and Khadgar shakes his head.

"This world's Velen. He and Yrel have been most welcoming." The mage stretches.

"Yrel...that's the draenei slave we rescued in Tanaan, isn't it? The one that killed the warlock?"

 

"Yes. Turns out she's a young Vindicator. She's taken up leading her people against the Iron Horde. Ready?"

 

"I am. Will you join us again tonight?"

 

Khadgar laughs as the portal winks into being. "I would, but I believe Cordana and I have matters to discuss."

The night elf nods. "We do."

 

"She keeps me on a tight schedule," he confides in Gorla as Cordana rolls her eyes. He wonders how often she does that when her helmet can hide it.

 

Gorla shrugs. "Your loss." She steps through the portal.

 

Cordana pauses before the gateway, arching an eyebrow at him. "You took unnecessary risks today, Archmage. Do not leave for Dalaran until we speak of this."

 

"Cordana-" But she's stepped through the portal.

 

He gets the feeling he's in for a stern lecture from the Warden.