Part 5: The Peace Comes to an End
Darkness crept over the docks, shrouding the surrounding hills in impenetrable blackness. A cold wind hurried across the tops of the waves, pushing insistently on the backs of those gathered near the boats. Sea-spray whipped through the air, dampening every breath. Vyrana's leathers shone in the pale moonlight, and he felt chilled. A storm was coming, and by the Earthmother he knew it was not a mere sea squall.
In six days time, the Cauldron Born would escort him into the Tainted Scar, to the place where the shadows of the Blasted Lands lay darkest. Only there, in a part of Azeroth where magic was so pervasive it permeated the very air, would he be safe from Runetotem's scrying. All druids forsook the use of magic, which at its base is demonic. None of the power afforded to Runetotem would allow him to interfere with Vyrana, so long as he remained in the Blasted Lands.
Vyrana would use the magic, there for the taking, to shield his actions and to gain entry to the Emerald Dream. And though the use of magic was unclean, the ends of its use were pure.
And besides, he would need some practice with the manipulation of magic if he were to ever visit the orc homeland of Draenor. Great powers of chaos and destruction had riven that world, and Vyrana knew that in such power there was a means, a means to a greater end of harmony for Azeroth...
The shaman, Motsham, had spoken of his homeland, and Vyrana felt that somehow, the aging orc would be able to aid him in his efforts.
Disturbed by the threatening weather, and eager to return to his meditations, Vyrana accepted the bloodbellies from Echuta and returned to the inn of Shadowprey. All the Cauldron Born had departed, save Echuta, Balkazar, and Motsham. They walked with him in the deepening twilight, speaking of reports of some Alliance soldiers on the outskirts of the village. It was certainly nothing, Vyrana declared, not believing the Alliance would be foolish enough to attack a troll village.
Hardly were the dismissive words out of his mouth than a shot rang out. Two sabercats, immense in their size, thundered up the dirt path. Behind them ran a dwarf and a night elf or human, Vyrana could not be certain. They fired their weapons as they came, the dwarf sporting a hand cannon, the other a bow.
A bony hand gripped Vyrana's shoulder, pulling him into the inn and shoving him aside. "Wait here, we must deal with these--"
Another shot, this one echoing with deafening force inside the common room of the inn, thundered forth. Vyrana felt the bullet bite into his shoulder, knocking him to his knees. He was too weak yet, too weak to do battle with these Alliance thugs. Or... A thought swept down upon the bleeding druid, filling him with rage.
Could these be assassins, sent by Runetotem? Was the Arch Druid working with the Alliance? It was preposterous, Vyrana could not believe it, and yet...
His thoughts were interrupted as a cry from Motsham reached his hears. The old orc had fallen, and the alliance hunter he had been occupying immediately entered the inn. Balkazar and Echuta remained, desperately trying to drive them out. But the assassins, Vyrana was certain that is what they were, only needed a single opening, one chance to finish what they had started. Blood ran down Vyrana's left arm, slicking his leathers and pooling beneath his hand. He was unprepared, too shocked to act.
And then he heard the sharp hiss of an arrow in flight, and that was the last thing that he heard.
Rousing what must have only been a few minutes later, but what felt like an eternity, Vyrana looked up to see the faces of the three Cauldron Born who had driven off the assassins. Echuta had stolen their victory, bringing the young druid back from the brink of death.
"If Echuta had not been nearby..." but Vyrana did not finish that thought, aware that there may be more assassins nearby. More caution would be necessary, now that it was known Runetotem was employing alliance assassins. And though Echuta had done the best he could, it would take time for Vyrana to recover from his wounds.
"I will need another 2 days preparation, Echuta," Vyrana said, already limping towards his hidden room. "Meet me at Grom'Gol on the 22, at 8 p.m. Be ready to enter the Tainted Scar." Echuta nodded his understanding, urging Vyrana to hide himself. "Thank you, my friends, and may the Earthmother aid you in your battles..."
Clutching his shoulder, Vyrana left his defenders behind. As the muffled sounds of battle reached his ears, he accepted the shattering of his last moment of peace with a cold fury.
In six days time, the Cauldron Born would escort him into the Tainted Scar, to the place where the shadows of the Blasted Lands lay darkest. Only there, in a part of Azeroth where magic was so pervasive it permeated the very air, would he be safe from Runetotem's scrying. All druids forsook the use of magic, which at its base is demonic. None of the power afforded to Runetotem would allow him to interfere with Vyrana, so long as he remained in the Blasted Lands.
Vyrana would use the magic, there for the taking, to shield his actions and to gain entry to the Emerald Dream. And though the use of magic was unclean, the ends of its use were pure.
And besides, he would need some practice with the manipulation of magic if he were to ever visit the orc homeland of Draenor. Great powers of chaos and destruction had riven that world, and Vyrana knew that in such power there was a means, a means to a greater end of harmony for Azeroth...
The shaman, Motsham, had spoken of his homeland, and Vyrana felt that somehow, the aging orc would be able to aid him in his efforts.
Disturbed by the threatening weather, and eager to return to his meditations, Vyrana accepted the bloodbellies from Echuta and returned to the inn of Shadowprey. All the Cauldron Born had departed, save Echuta, Balkazar, and Motsham. They walked with him in the deepening twilight, speaking of reports of some Alliance soldiers on the outskirts of the village. It was certainly nothing, Vyrana declared, not believing the Alliance would be foolish enough to attack a troll village.
Hardly were the dismissive words out of his mouth than a shot rang out. Two sabercats, immense in their size, thundered up the dirt path. Behind them ran a dwarf and a night elf or human, Vyrana could not be certain. They fired their weapons as they came, the dwarf sporting a hand cannon, the other a bow.
A bony hand gripped Vyrana's shoulder, pulling him into the inn and shoving him aside. "Wait here, we must deal with these--"
Another shot, this one echoing with deafening force inside the common room of the inn, thundered forth. Vyrana felt the bullet bite into his shoulder, knocking him to his knees. He was too weak yet, too weak to do battle with these Alliance thugs. Or... A thought swept down upon the bleeding druid, filling him with rage.
Could these be assassins, sent by Runetotem? Was the Arch Druid working with the Alliance? It was preposterous, Vyrana could not believe it, and yet...
His thoughts were interrupted as a cry from Motsham reached his hears. The old orc had fallen, and the alliance hunter he had been occupying immediately entered the inn. Balkazar and Echuta remained, desperately trying to drive them out. But the assassins, Vyrana was certain that is what they were, only needed a single opening, one chance to finish what they had started. Blood ran down Vyrana's left arm, slicking his leathers and pooling beneath his hand. He was unprepared, too shocked to act.
And then he heard the sharp hiss of an arrow in flight, and that was the last thing that he heard.
Rousing what must have only been a few minutes later, but what felt like an eternity, Vyrana looked up to see the faces of the three Cauldron Born who had driven off the assassins. Echuta had stolen their victory, bringing the young druid back from the brink of death.
"If Echuta had not been nearby..." but Vyrana did not finish that thought, aware that there may be more assassins nearby. More caution would be necessary, now that it was known Runetotem was employing alliance assassins. And though Echuta had done the best he could, it would take time for Vyrana to recover from his wounds.
"I will need another 2 days preparation, Echuta," Vyrana said, already limping towards his hidden room. "Meet me at Grom'Gol on the 22, at 8 p.m. Be ready to enter the Tainted Scar." Echuta nodded his understanding, urging Vyrana to hide himself. "Thank you, my friends, and may the Earthmother aid you in your battles..."
Clutching his shoulder, Vyrana left his defenders behind. As the muffled sounds of battle reached his ears, he accepted the shattering of his last moment of peace with a cold fury.