Scourge - 12 (Patreon)

As Rokkri furled her wings and settled atop the bramble tomb which held Detheroc's corpse, there was a moment of stillness and silence. Lord Renard folded his tails and tilted his head up at the raven while she cocked hers in turn; all seemed to pause in anticipation of what words or deeds would come from the Wild Gods next.

"Medic!" A man yelled desperately into the pouring rain. "Need a healer here now!"

The spell was broken, a dozen ravens scoffing loudly at the interruption. But it was a reminder to us all that though the battle was won, the demon behind it all was beaten, it wasn't over.

My legs felt numb, stinging with a thousand pins and needles as I forced myself to my feet. I clutched at the wound Detheroc had inflicted upon me, scraping something inside me raw as I tried to fight the energy to heal it, but it wasn't there. "Can still, can–" I staggered, tripping over debris – a corpse, a fallen rider thrown from their horse – that I hadn't seen.

A wooden hand caught me, a groaning and grinding voice vocalising a reprimand without language. The treant steadied me carefully before letting go, moving towards others of its kind where they battered against those few undead that still struggled.

So many had been broken apart by my spell, my starfall, that I couldn't even count them. I scarcely remembered what I'd done.

"Lorna. Vivi." I told myself, my head throbbing as I fought off the distraction.

Frazzle, pink hair. She was with Trysa, handing out water and food to Magroth and the bishop – Miller? Miller. I would need some, I remembered how much it had helped in Dalaran.

Looking further I saw Vivi's red hair bobbing amongst the field of bodies, she was... hurt, not moving as quickly as she should, but she was walking. Going around and checking bodies, pointing out those still living from those that had fallen forever.

There would be a great many funerals to come soon. Each and every man and woman that died here today, that fought off a dreadlord, was a hero.

I would pay for a monument myself if I had to.

She caught sight of me, her eyes widening and jerking as if to run over to me. I smiled and shook my head; she was doing the right thing. Turning away I looked at Lorna and Donovan, my friend cradling her mount’s head where he lay limply on the ground.

Blood flowed freely from countless gouges and gashes, each one sick with a sulphurous Fel magic from Detheroc's claws. Even so, it wasn't enough to put him at risk; his eyes drooped tiredly but he held on.

Falling to my knees and near enough collapsing on top of him, I felt his heartbeat, the blood rush in his veins. More than his wounds it was the magic that had taken its toll on him. "He'll live." I said, feeling Lorna' relax beside me as I said it. "Bind his wounds, Lorn..."

Her legs, her legs were crushed into a pulp in her greaves. "Lorna!"

"I'm alright." She wheezed agonisingly. "I'm... I'm alright. You'll fix me up again. Just don't..."

"Healer! Lorna needs a healer!" I stretched again, ignoring the pain and tried to find something to give her. How much blood had she lost? As much as Donovan had? A red trail led back, mixing with so much else I hadn't seen it, to where she had been thrown off of her mount.

Familiar hands prised me away from her as my eyes swam. "Trix has her." Vivi said, holding me tight. "Trix has her. Damnit, Gwen. You're hurt too!"

"I'll live, it's just a– just..." Just a puncture that went into my arm, clipped the bone, and came out the other side. "I... I need a healer too." I relented, my eyes closing.

Keepers, I was so tired.

-oOoOo-

"–and why cannot you stay?!" Godfrey shouted angrily, his voice stirring me from my slumber. In a moment I started upright, my heart pounding and my head aching as I recalled the situating in which I had fallen asleep. "Even now, brave men and women die in defence of Gilneas. You claim to be proud to fight alongside but you intend to flee like a coward!"

His hands clenched tight around a pistol, Godfrey faced down Lord Renard with his monocle dangling from his face. All around him ravens flew through the rain and croaked out their disdain; it might be brave of him, but it was far, far more foolish.

Lord Renard cocked his head at the noble. "My time here is spent, or do you believe the demon should be allowed to roam free once more?" He sat carefully, his tail folded in front of him.

Hiding his wounded leg.

Rising to my feet, Vivi immediately spotted me and started fussing. "Gwen, you need to rest. Trix stopped you from bleeding but we're all injured and exhausted." Blinking, I saw that Lorna and Donovan were resting under a tarp, with a dozen or so other injured men kept out of the rain beside them while Trix checked them over.

But this felt important. I tugged my arm gently, pulling her along. "Need to..." I breathed hard, keepers it was hard to focus. Ahead Godfrey was still arguing with Lord Renard and just trying to think through the consequences of that made my head pound.

He, the Silver Tongue, needed to get back to Tal'Doren. Before it was too late; how long had he stayed? How much had this cost him? He had done everything he promised and more; one of the dreadlords, the one directly responsible for mind-controlling the alliance armies after Mount Hyjal, was gone. Defeated in a way that stopped him from just coming back from the dead.

If anyone deserved to rest, it was him. "Need to tell him, Godfrey, Lord Renard..." I shook my head again, trying to clear it. "Hold me?"

She looked sceptical, but slowly nodded, slinging my good arm over her shoulder and holding me up as I stepped out from under the tarpaulin into the rain.

It took an agonising minute to walk close enough to be heard. But it also gave me time to think of what I needed to say. Being out in the rain, charged as it was with Life, and the elements of air and water, by Celestine and so many others, helped a little. Reinvigorating and easing my pounding skill a little.

"Lord Godfrey!" I said as loudly as I could, drawing the attention of all the onlookers; even Sir Magroth was drawn from staring at Rokkri to look at me for a moment. "When I summoned my Lord I always knew it would be for but a brief time. That was the promise he made me, in a moment of need I could call on him. Not for days, not for weeks, not even for hours. But minutes."

I turned and bowed to Lord Renard, my head spinning with dizzyness as I did so. Vivi kept me on my feet, but despite needing her help, I did the same for Rokkri and her ravens.

Sir Magroth might be viewing her shadowy form with suspicion, but perched atop Detheroc's corpses like a conquering queen as she was, her contribution was unquestionable. "What came was more than I hoped, more than I imagined possible. Lord Renard, Maiden Rokkri, thank you."

Without them, we would be dead. Without them, the wall would have fallen. Without them... without them, I would have made things worse for my homeland and destroyed us all. Perhaps Azeroth would be better off, but my home, my family, would be gone.

A raven landed on my shoulder. "Remember. Promise." It croaked quietly into my ear. "Remember."

"I will." I whispered back. I may have promised Tal'Doren, not Rokkri, but they were one and the same. And watching as she freed Detheroc's fossilised amber heart, his prison, from the brambles which held it, I knew that I had foisted a new task upon them.

"The Scourge is leaderless." Magroth said, turning away from Rokkri full to address Godfrey. "We may still have a fight on our hands, but it is one we shall win. Do not let your grief goad you, Lord Godfrey."

Godfrey's hands clenched white around the pistol, his body trembling. All of a sudden he gave a jerky nod, turning on his heels and marching away without a word.

"Here!" A hand thrust a waterskin in my face, and I saw the tell-tale pink hair of Frazzle beside me. "That was impressive, you know, but you've gotta pace yourself! A proper archmage, or ah, archwitch? Anyway, you should be able to do that more than once if you do it right! Certainly twice at least."

"I'd like to see someone else do what Gwen did!" Vivi snapped defensively.

Frazzle shrugged with a smile on her face. "I have. My blizzards are pitiful and tiny compared to real ones, archmages are scary." She patted my leg. "You're young, you'll get there!"

Lord Renard looked amused by Frazzle's scolding compliments as he cocked his head at me. "Indeed she will." He said with a wide grin. "Farewell, my littlest fox."

Behind him, Rokkri flapped her wings once, then twice. Shadows grew as the wing beats swallowed the light, drawing away all ability to see. Then, with one last rush of air, it all returned and the Wild Gods were gone, and with them Detheroc's prison.

In Lord Renard's place, a rather dishevelled-looking Tricks picked herself up off the ground. Her tails were covered in mud, her fur matted with leaves, and she looked deeply, deeply disturbed.

She looked at me and chirped unhappily; she'd... been dropped in... a mud pit when she arrived? Intentionally?

Had Lord Renard used his summoning to play a prank on my little fox? "Come here," I said, reaching for her. I didn't care about the mess as she jumped into my arms; she nearly bowled me over, unsteady as I was, but I set about brushing the muck out of her fur. The little fox who had brought our saviour, made it to me in time to stop the worst, deserved attention. "Thank you, thank you Tricks."

"We should've been here sooner." Trix said softly, low enough I barely heard it. "Shouldn't've... had to..."

"You came." I turned around and told her. "You got here. You're here, you're saving my friends, my companions. You're doing your part, Trix." Even though she shouldn't be here, even though none of the children should be, even though Richard, my student, could never be again... "I'm proud of you."

She ducked her head in embarrassment, focusing on helping one of the others who sheltered under Donovan's tarpaulin.

I should probably thank whoever set it up; removing Lorna from his side, taking the important person to safety, might be the expected thing, but I doubted it would have been a good thing. I didn't really understand everything – or much at all – about the bond between them, but it definitely existed.

Settling back out of the rain, held possessively in Vivi's lap, I kept up tending to Tricks in between sips of water. "How bad is it?" My exhaustion was still present, but no longer so demanding I might drift off again.

"Hard to say." Magroth replied, lowering himself slowly and with a grinding of crumpled plate. "You weren't asleep long, half an hour at most. Lord Candren led the men he could to assist the wall; we have not heard back from him yet."

With how bad things had been down here, I had to wonder how bad things had been up there.

-oOoOo-

The meeting room in the gate tower of the Greymane Wall had seen better days. Blood stained the floors, and the model of the wall which had been used for strategy had been destroyed and strewn everywhere along with the tangle it had stood upon. Broken furniture was everywhere, the chairs present a mismatched collection taken from a dozen different places.

One of the doors had even been ripped out of the wall, hinges along with it. Deep gouges from claws had rent the stone too and left a thin coating of rock dust everywhere.

"Ah, good. We are only waiting on Lord Godfrey, Baron Ashmore, and the king now." Archmage Arugal said, inclining his head from where he was supervising a set of enchanted brooms that were cleaning up part of the mess. "Today has been quite... exhilarating, has it not?"

Lorna snorted tiredly as she leaned against Sir Magroth. "That's one word for it."

A single day was hardly enough to recover from the fight we had been through, but this morning’s meeting had been called by the king late last night. I had spent so much of yesterday falling in and out of sleep, using what magic I could as and when it replenished to start on removing Donovan's curse, that I had little knowledge of the situation elsewhere.

So, despite having some grievances about being summoned while still exhausted, I was curious as to what had happened elsewhere. “No point waiting for Baron Ashmore," I said wearily, "he was the disguise of the dreadlord who orchestrated this attack."

Archmage Arugal paused, his enchanted implements freezing in place. "Dreadlord? Are you certain?"

"It matched the codices held by the Silver Hand on such creatures, though it was more vicious and horrendous than I had ever imagined." Sir Magroth answered calmly. "The name is well earned, vile though it may be."

Lord Candren, already sat at the table let out a bark of a laugh. "The fattest demon I've ever seen or heard of. Are they all like that?"

"Not in the scripture, no." Bishop Miller said from her seat. "Light willing there will be no others."

It was odd that three bishops were here, Miller, Warren, and... Walden? Instead of the archbishop. He was always present for these meetings; but then, Celestine normally wasn't and she was here for once. Outside of the change with Celestine and the bishops, the usual suspects were here; sans Darius and the so far late Godfrey, of course.

"I scarcely believe there was one at all. First walking corpses, then demons, now fox 'gods' and living trees that stone undead to death with apples." Baron Ashbury shook his head. "We live a world of hard facts, not absurd fantasy."

"Frankly, given what has happened, I would settle for–" Prince Liam started, only to be interrupted by the door slamming open and Godfrey walking in.

He tore off his gloves and slapped them down on the table, claiming a chair quickly and cradling the pistol he'd held earlier close. His fingers ran across its ornamentation with a singleminded focus that I had rarely seen elsewhere.

"Are we to believe the girl when she says the good baron was a demon?" Bishop Walden asked, looking around in confusion. "That seems quite absurd! I've known the man all my life."

"Whether or not it is true matters little at this juncture." Genn said, striding into the room at last. "We will begin immediately, investigations can take place at a later time. To begin, where is Crowley?"

Lorna looked up and seemed to barely refrain from rolling her eyes. "Father returned to our estate three days ago due to an incident that arose, having informed all relevant as such. He was due back yesterday morning, but considering events it is unsurprising he was delayed."

It was easy enough to tell what she was thinking but afraid to voice. I reached out under the table to place a hand on her arm; Darius was strong, he wouldn't have died to anything less than an ambush by elite forces.

And that had been aimed at me.

"I am sure the Order of Amber can send out search ravens to discover what happened if necessary." Archmage Arugal said, nodding to Celestine. "If not, I shall try my hand at divining his location."

Though Genn frowned deeply, he didn't press further and instead turned to Lord Candren. "Darius placed you in command in his absence?"

"He did, yes." Lord Candren adjusted his jacket, which still held a few blood stains from earlier. I'd seen him helping bandage the men in the aftermath of the Detheroc fight, which rather raised my estimation of the man. "To begin... in the aftermath of the battle with the demon, the situation in the camps stabilised sufficiently for the reserve to be brought to reinforce the wall. The situation was, in a word, dire." He nodded to Archmage Arugal in a way that made my heart sink. "Of course, that was until another miracle was wrought by our esteemed magic users."

"Indeed." Genn said, his stoic gaze singling me out for some reason. "Without Archmage Arugal and his worgen stepping in to make up for the Order of Amber's failings, the wall would have fallen."

I stared at him in shock, unbelieving that what I heard could possibly be what he said, but Celestine was not so sedate.

Her chair clattered to the floor as she jumped to her feet, her hands slamming down on the table. "Good witches died when the undead came for us." She hissed. "Even as people I've known since they were children bled and died for your wall, we brewed up a storm to stop their flyers. We brought lightning down on any undead we could see. We fought and died for you." She stopped, daring anyone to contradict her. No one did, but Lord Candren did cough lightly. "Your Majesty." She added as an afterthought, offence dripping from the words.

Genn snorted derisively, but he didn't spare Celestine a second glance. "And good men fought and died atop the wall, buying time for you to do your work." He waved a hand towards the Pyremarsh through the wall. "The wall was besieged, the undead relentless, their numbers limitless. And all was nearly lost..." His eyes burned angrily. "All because of this girl in our midst."

"What?" Lorna exclaimed. "Your Majesty, you cannot be serious. Gwyneth has done more for the preparations than–"

"I am incredibly serious." Genn cut her off, his hand falling onto Prince Liam's shoulder. "She has known for many a year that the Scourge would come, and yet she consorted with foreigners rather than confiding in her king. She spread rumour and hearsay, spurring our people fellow Gilneans to flee beyond the sea rather than behind the safety of the wall. She allowed the cult to infest our lands, bringing about a Plague that has claimed tens of thousands."

Genn slammed a fist down on the table, making me jump in my seat. This couldn't be happening, could it? This wasn't real, I wasn't being accused of treason. I must still be asleep, resting after the fight and my injuries... right?

But, was he wrong...? I had... It had come so close. I brought Detheroc here...

My throat tightened and my breathing quickened. No, no, things were... better. No famine, the wall held, we were alive. So many more people going to Kalimdor.

Though my thoughts ran rampant, the king hadn't stopped his accusation. "This Detheroc came here for you. Targeted you personally, laid an ambush, used your student to torment you. All of this is simple fact which the scarcest of investigations has made clear. Dozens of survivors that fell under the demon's sway speak of its obsession with you."

"Is this true?" Godfrey asked, raising his head from his pistol. "Did you know this would happen?"

What was the point in lying now? The Legion already knew. The Scourge already knew. "Yes, in some ways, I did."

Sir Magroth nodded his head, understanding clearly. Had I ever told him everything? I hadn't, had I, but it must make so many things clear for him. And for Arugal, who looked at me with curious w eyes as if I were a puzzle to unravel.

"Had you simply done as you ought," Baron Ashbury said condescendingly, "brought yourself to the king and submitted your knowledge to him none of this would have happened. You show your arrogance, girl."

I stood from my seat. "Had I done that, Dalaran would not have been forewarned." I said bluntly, defending my actions. My heart was racing, tension building in my tired arms but I wouldn't consider what I did wrong. "Or would you have listened to a child when she said that to leave the Alliance was to bring doom to Gilneas? That to cut ourselves off from the world would lead to ruin?"

"The wall is the only reason we live!" Genn snapped furiously.

"Father, if we had just aided Lordaeron in time..." Prince Liam said softly. "Could this have been averted?"

"Yes." It wasn't me that spoke, but Sir Magroth. He leaned out over the table, one gauntleted fist resting upon it to stead the wobbling wood from Genn's strike. "Had the armies of GIlneas committed themselves to the aid of the Alliance, had we stood together as one as we did against the Orcish Horde, there is no doubt in my heart that humanity and its allies would prevail."

The prince let out a long breath. "That is what I thought also." He stepped away from his father. "I offered Archmage Modera the invitation knowing she sought Gwyneth, Father. I conspired to mend ties. I can only hope those efforts weren't in vain."

"Three days. In the future I know, Dalaran survived three days of being besieged." I said, matching Genn's glare with my own. "It has been all but three weeks and the sky has not yet rained fire to announce their doom."

Genn seemed torn as to whether turn on his son for betraying him, or lashing out at me. All around the table it was clear people were picking sides; Bishop Warren glared at the king fiercely, but she had been doing that the entire meeting.

Bishop Miller was more apprehensive, eyeing me curiously, while Bishop Walden was clearly in the king's camp. Godfrey clutched at his pistol, his eyes cold and empty as they remained fixed on me. Lorna, Magroth, and Celestine were all on my side for obvious reasons... which left Lord Candren and Archmage Arugal as undecided. I couldn't tell with either of them, the first impassive and the second hiding his expression behind his veil.

"And how did Gilneas fare in these visions of yours?" Genn said looming over me. "How many of our people have you doomed that would otherwise live."

"Less than have been saved." Lorna said, pushing herself up on her wobbling legs. "Father brought in so many refugees, he organised the Kalimdor Expedition, he bought so many lives with the wealth–"

The world shook, the very tower itself trembling and knocking Lorna from her feet. Through the windows which looked out over the camps, the world shone with green light that drowned out the sun, and a rending roar rolled across the sky to interrupt our meeting.

"Oh," I said, feeling in my bones what had happened. "Dalaran has fallen."

It didn't take long for the trembling to stop, the source of the shaking being but one resounding shockwave as the veil was torn apart, but even so bells rang out. Either to announce a renewed threat against the wall, one we were ill-prepared to fight against, or, if we were lucky, a mere panic after the chaos of yesterday.

Without hesitation, everyone stood up from their seats and readied themselves for battle. Even the bishops, of whom only Miller had proven themselves capable in a fight at all, made their intent clear as Light suffused us all and I felt myself bolstered.

"It seems our meeting is to be cut short." Genn said stoically, though his gaze lingered on me long enough to tell he was debating what to do with me. "Godfrey, prepare a sally at once! We shall push back against the monsters alongside our new allies; the rest of you..." He frowned, and jerked his head towards Prince Liam. "Son, with me. The rest of you shall see that none slip through the wall."