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Norman Farnsley walks steadily, movements deliberate and controlled with nothing wasted. Most Forsaken move in such a manner, muscles no longer dependent on uneven biology to flex, if they flex at all. A green skinned orc gives him a look of distaste as he heads towards Kanu's tent but turns away in a coughing fit quickly enough. Beastwatch is mostly recovered from the bout of snuffles that had struck it, though not before it had spread to the rest of the forces from Azeroth. As far as the warlock can tell, the disease had begun here. Perhaps it had been engineered by the local botani, a new weapon similar to their seed pods? Fortunate, then, that it had been so mild an illness. He shoves aside the skin covering the entrance into Kanu's tent, startling the tauren. The bull sneezes and a pale spray of mucus flies across the maps he is standing over. "Greetings, Cloudchaser." As always, the Forsaken's voice is raspy and dry.
"Norman," the shaman says with some surprise, ears flicking once as he grabs a cloth to wipe the maps clean. "What brings you to Beastwatch?"
"I had heard you were ill. That all here were ill, before all at Voljin's Spear were ill, before all of Orgrimmar, too, began coughing." He walks around the table to the tauren who rises to his full height before him, towering several heads above the former human. "I am pleased to see you are doing well."
Kanu's eyes are narrowed at him. "I am mostly recovered. The elements have been willing to lend their aid."
"That is fortunate. It is not often an illness spreads so far and so fast." Norman is an unliving reminder of the last time one did. "I have concern that this was created by the botani as a weapon against us."
One of Kanu's ears flick, his stance relaxing slightly. "No, though it has not stopped them from trying to take advantage. No, this I believe I caught from Khadgar."
The Forsaken gazes at him a long moment, eyebrows rising to crinkle the paper like skin of his forehead. "You caught snuffles from a human?" He reaches up and swipes a glob of the pale yellow mucus dripping from Kanu's muzzle and the tauren recoils from his bony touch.
"What are you doing?"
Norman is stretching the ooze between forefinger and thumb. "Diseases that affect multiple races are rare." His yellow eyes look up at Kanu. "This is dangerous."
Kanu's ears drop at him, tail thrashing once. "You are no Apothecary."
"I am not. I kept my name." The corners of his mouth crack as he frowns. "But you are not the only one fallen ill and many are loyal to the Dark Lady. Word has likely made its way to her already."
Kanu's tail thrashes again. "She would use this?"
Norman gives him a one shouldered shrug. "As you said, I am no Apothecary. I cannot say what efforts were taken to create the Blight. Nor would I claim the Horde has ever used such a thing. I only know that Gilneas was quickly won once the Banshee Queen took the field. Clearly she is a clever tactician."
"…clearly." The bull shifts his weight, nearly stamping a hoof. "I had heard rumors-"
"And rumors they shall remain," Norman cuts off sharply. "We are fighting a war. It is not time to distract ourselves with things that might be happening a world away. Nor is that a murloc swarm prodded lightly." He incinerates the ooze between his fingers with a bit of fel flame, sulfurous odor filling the air. "I merely came to check on the well being of a friend and offer my assistance with the campaign he is leading."
Kanu huffs, the maps on the table fluttering as his breath passes. "I suppose there is little to be done if it has already reached Orgrimmar. We are fortunate, then, it is a mild illness." Norman doesn't bother telling him that Sylvanas would be most interested in its morbidity, not mortality. Blight was already fatal but didn't kill much beyond orcs and humans, living or undead. "And I could use your assistance. Progress has been severely hampered with the loss of the relic. Rexxar has been scouring the goren tunnels to see if there's a path there, but they're worse than kobolds when it comes to routes."
"What about a diversion? Something to draw their eyes from the Iron Docks so a small force could sneak in and sabotage the ships?"
Kanu pulls at the tuft of fur on his chin. "An assault on the quarry, perhaps. They would be eager to protect the source of their ore." He nods at Norman. "I will speak with the Frostwolves and Laughing Skull on the matter. You are available to assault the Docks?"
The warlock inclines his head. "The Spires have been quiet and my garrison is well in hand. I can stay to help."
"Thank you. I will send a message at once."
"Norman," the shaman says with some surprise, ears flicking once as he grabs a cloth to wipe the maps clean. "What brings you to Beastwatch?"
"I had heard you were ill. That all here were ill, before all at Voljin's Spear were ill, before all of Orgrimmar, too, began coughing." He walks around the table to the tauren who rises to his full height before him, towering several heads above the former human. "I am pleased to see you are doing well."
Kanu's eyes are narrowed at him. "I am mostly recovered. The elements have been willing to lend their aid."
"That is fortunate. It is not often an illness spreads so far and so fast." Norman is an unliving reminder of the last time one did. "I have concern that this was created by the botani as a weapon against us."
One of Kanu's ears flick, his stance relaxing slightly. "No, though it has not stopped them from trying to take advantage. No, this I believe I caught from Khadgar."
The Forsaken gazes at him a long moment, eyebrows rising to crinkle the paper like skin of his forehead. "You caught snuffles from a human?" He reaches up and swipes a glob of the pale yellow mucus dripping from Kanu's muzzle and the tauren recoils from his bony touch.
"What are you doing?"
Norman is stretching the ooze between forefinger and thumb. "Diseases that affect multiple races are rare." His yellow eyes look up at Kanu. "This is dangerous."
Kanu's ears drop at him, tail thrashing once. "You are no Apothecary."
"I am not. I kept my name." The corners of his mouth crack as he frowns. "But you are not the only one fallen ill and many are loyal to the Dark Lady. Word has likely made its way to her already."
Kanu's tail thrashes again. "She would use this?"
Norman gives him a one shouldered shrug. "As you said, I am no Apothecary. I cannot say what efforts were taken to create the Blight. Nor would I claim the Horde has ever used such a thing. I only know that Gilneas was quickly won once the Banshee Queen took the field. Clearly she is a clever tactician."
"…clearly." The bull shifts his weight, nearly stamping a hoof. "I had heard rumors-"
"And rumors they shall remain," Norman cuts off sharply. "We are fighting a war. It is not time to distract ourselves with things that might be happening a world away. Nor is that a murloc swarm prodded lightly." He incinerates the ooze between his fingers with a bit of fel flame, sulfurous odor filling the air. "I merely came to check on the well being of a friend and offer my assistance with the campaign he is leading."
Kanu huffs, the maps on the table fluttering as his breath passes. "I suppose there is little to be done if it has already reached Orgrimmar. We are fortunate, then, it is a mild illness." Norman doesn't bother telling him that Sylvanas would be most interested in its morbidity, not mortality. Blight was already fatal but didn't kill much beyond orcs and humans, living or undead. "And I could use your assistance. Progress has been severely hampered with the loss of the relic. Rexxar has been scouring the goren tunnels to see if there's a path there, but they're worse than kobolds when it comes to routes."
"What about a diversion? Something to draw their eyes from the Iron Docks so a small force could sneak in and sabotage the ships?"
Kanu pulls at the tuft of fur on his chin. "An assault on the quarry, perhaps. They would be eager to protect the source of their ore." He nods at Norman. "I will speak with the Frostwolves and Laughing Skull on the matter. You are available to assault the Docks?"
The warlock inclines his head. "The Spires have been quiet and my garrison is well in hand. I can stay to help."
"Thank you. I will send a message at once."
