“Thanks, Champion!” The large orc looked over his shoulder at the priest, who brushed his hands off and gave a quick nod.

“Can’t let my plate rack get hurt out here, Brux.” Varendil said as he sent a blast of Light magics toward the orc. Looking down, he saw a bit of scourge of the bottom of his robes and wiggled his leg a bit to shake the random bit of flesh from his armor. He turned back to see the ranger who jumped down from a large rock of saronite, landing on a hand to balance herself. “You okay back there, Lan?” He raised an eye to the female elf, leaning down to pluck an arrow from a dead..something and held it out to her.

“Of course, but we do need to be careful. Lots of things stalkin’ up there. We have to tread lightly, like always.” She stood up straight and glanced upward, narrowing her eyes to see through the snowstorm that seemed always present in Icecrown. “Let’s just get these people freed before we end up like ’em, yeah?” She grabbed the arrow from Varendil and notched it in her bowstring.

Varendil nodded and tossed a quick shield of magic over the orc before him. “Right then, see any around?”

Lanuria lowered her bow to her side and pointed out to a wall. “There is what looks like a night elf over there.”

“How in the Light can you tell through this storm?” Varendil squinted.

“It’s the only thing that would be green out here.”

Brux snorted a laugh and picked up his pace. “Well, let’s get him or her out of here before that elf comes to get us.” He jogged forward, holding his shield out in front of him, blocking the snow and the winds from beating at his face.

The two elves jogged forward until the three reached the night elf slumped against a makeshift wall of stone, the green hair matted and stuck to her face. Her eyes were surrounded by black circles and Varendil instinctively kneeled before the injured crusader, letting a bit of magic flow from his fingers to the bruises on her face.

“It’s okay, we’re with the Crusade, we are here to–”

Varendil’s speech to the woman was cut off by the orc bellowing loudly and the sound of flesh smacking his heavy shield. He turned around to see Brux slashing away at a leather clad figure, his axe in one hand, shield in the other, his foot holding the creature down by the piece of rope that hung from it’s neck.

“Geists!” Brux yelled out, spinning around to swipe his shield at another giest. “Lan, get some firepower down here!”

Varendil glanced around. They were everywhere. Lanuria jumped back and on to a pile of saronite, gaining a bit of leverage, notching a few arrows and firing them at the enemies, two of the arrows landing in the eyes of two of the undead. She cheered a bit before looking down to Varendil.

“Get her healed up and outta here. Brux and I have this.” She nodded to him and pointed to a slope that would eventually lead them out of the pits.

Varendil glanced up at her and then back to the kal’dorei. “Fine.” He began to undo the lock around her ankle, channeling a bit of magic into his hands to heal the large bump where her ankle was, obviously a broken bone.

Lanuria assisted with the geists, shooting down one after the other with a deadly accuracy, arrows whizzing past the green skinned orc, landing in the guts and heads of the undead. They tumbled, one by one, but it seemed that no matter how quickly the arrows flew and the combo of axe and shield came down, the pouncing and vicious undead beings continued to appear and attack the two while Varendil focused on the night elf that was nearly passed out before him.

Brux stomped one of his heavy, iron clad feet on the ground, nearly shattering the earth around him and tossed his arms in the air, commanding the attention of the geists with a loud and thunderous shout.

“Cap’n Dawnblade, let’s get these down, eh?”

Lanuria looked down from her position on the pile of ores near Varendil, watching the priest work his magics over the injured crusader. She jumped down and ran toward Brux, firing as she did so.

“Right, keep them away from Varendil.”

Brux nodded, swiping at a geist and knocking it on the ground, stepping on its head and smiling at the crunching sound. Soon, the numbers of the undead began to dwindle, as did the number of arrows in the ranger’s quiver. She eventually began to pluck the arrows from the dead scourge, recycling the projectiles only to send them once more into the heads and chests of more geists.

Behind the two fighters, Varendil continued to work with the night elf, helping her stand up and gain her balance. She wobbled, trying to get used to her legs actually working and not being tied up and the much smaller and thinner sin’dorei assisted her as well as he could, slipping an arm around her waist. She cracked a smile at what would be her enemy in any other battle field, her lips dry, bits of blood in the cracks. Varendil smiled back to her giving her a nod as he helped her with her first steps as a free woman.

Meanwhile, Lanuria and Brux finally brought down the last geist, Lanuria stabbing it in the eye with the last of her arrows and clapping her hands, dusting them off.

“Easy as pie!” She declared, nudging the large orc in the side. He just raised an eyebrow and brushed a bit of flesh from his face.

“Still don’t get how pie is easy, Cap’n.” Brux shrugged and Lan giggled slightly and turned around to wave at Varendil and the night elf he tended to, sprinting forward to catch up to them.

Brux tossed his shield onto his back and threw his axe over his shoulder, walking slowly toward the elves.

Varendil was still tending to the night elf as she stood up, trying to catch her balance still. “Now now, don’t exert yourself too much! You had a few broken bones and you can’t just expect to jump back into the fray and get back to battle. At least give yourself some time to rest.” He pointed to the side, near the edge of the pits. “The Argent has made a base up on the edge, you’ll find more help there.” He spoke slowly to the night elf, his Common slightly accented.

The night elf nodded and began to run toward the exit. Varendil quickly threw a bubble over the girl and smiled as he watched her run off and smiled even wider when he saw his wife bouncing toward him, jumping over the dead geists.

Just as the ranger reached the priest, he smiled, opening his arms to her before getting shoved out of the way, falling to the ground, face down into the snow.

“Lan, what the-” He pulled his face from the snow, only to see his wife roll by with something attached to her, swinging her daggers and cursing loudly in her native tongue.

“Lan!” Varendil scrambled to his feet was quickly as one could in heavy robes and glanced around. He didn’t see Lanuria at first until he looked to the side and down, a level lower into the pit. He saw his wife pinning something to the ground, then being pinned, the two bodies rolling back and forth. Varendil peered carefully into the blur of bodies before he tossed a shield over his wife and blasted the geist with a surge of magic.

The thing finally fell over when Lanuria’s dagger stabbed it in the eye. She stared down at the geist and kicked it for good measure before turning and face up to Varendil, smiling as she breathed in heavy, trying to catch her breath.

“You need to be more careful, love! You’re going to get…” She reached up to wipe the hair from her face and brought her hand down to look at it.

Blood soaked her hand.

“Lan!” Varendil jumped down to the lower level as Lanuria stood there, staring at the crimson that stained her hands. The priest landed on his feet and caught his balance, channeling a small bit of holy magic to the wound.

Lanuria winced as the magic hit her face, closing up the wound on her face with speed and a soft glow. Varendil quickly grabbed a piece of cloth from his bags and handed it to her, wincing as well as he realized he’d given her moonshroud to wipe the blood from her face.

“You..hold still.” Varendil studied his wife’s face for a moment. The geist had cut her face, less than an inch away from her right eye, the trail of the slash following the curve of her face and ending just above her chin. He held a hand up to her face and willed the Light into her flesh. The priest removed his hand and looked at her again.

The scar remained.

Lanuria glanced up at him. “Is everything okay, Varendil?”

Varendil narrowed his eyes and pressed his hand to her face again. Again the Light forced itself into Lanuria’s flesh. Again, he removed his hand to see the scar still there. He tried again. Again. Each time seemed more pointless than the last.

“Oh, nice battle scar there, Cap’n!” Brux smiled as he held an arm over the ledge over the two elves. “Bet you’ll be tellin’ that story for weeks to come!”

Lanuria ran her fingers over the scar. The feeling of broken skin seemed almost foreign to the ranger. The last time she had a scar was well over a year ago and most of the old ones had faded or healed up with the workings of Varendil and his proficiency in Light magic. She blinked a few times before looking at Varendil, who was looking at his hands like a gnome would look at the workings of a broken creation.

“Come on, Varen. It’ll fade, no worries,” Lanuria said as she grabbed onto Brux’s hand and he pulled her up.

Varendil just nodded as Brux lowered his hand to the priest.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s


Error: Twitter did not respond. Please wait a few minutes and refresh this page.

Page Views


%d bloggers like this: