Post by Monday
((
Storybook))
Avery sat down inside the machine, along with Forndar, Gorgron, Walker and Ironbeard, who still looked a bit woozy. Korsin was already in the pilot’s house, starting up the walker.
Korsin grinned as the walker purred to life beneath his feet, and started to rumble and clank. “I see you’re still going fine…” he murmured, patting the machine lightly.
Ironbeard entered the room and sat in the copilot’s chair. “It’s getting’ a little crowded in there, and it ain’t helpin’ me headache any.”
Korsin grinned. “That’s how I feel. Thankfully, being a pilot has its privileges. Such as driving. And kicking people out.”
Ironbeard chuckled, then started coughing.
Those cultists did more to me than I thought… Ironbeard thought to himself. What he said out loud was: “Hopefully I’m not one o’ the people ye’ll kick off.”
“You? Never,” replied Korsin firmly, and started Black Walker forwards.
“I can’t help but ask…” Ironbeard started, sounding slightly confused. “How are ye getting’ to that city?”
“I don’t know,” Korsin said softly. “But we have to try.”
Gorgron stood and stretched, grinning. He felt better than he ever had. He felt useful. He felt
strong. Avery sat in a corner, eyes closed, reading a book. Gorgron sneered slightly at him, annoyed at the way he had treated Gorgron, then felt ashamed.
Forndar took a drink of his ale, though how in the Flames he got that, Gorgron didn’t know, then wiped his face off. “We leavin’ soon?” he asked Gorgron, and the orc shrugged.
“I don’t know,” Gorgron said. “I think we’re leaving –“ The rest of his sentence was cut off as the walker lurched forward, then settled into a steady rhythm. “I guess so.”
Forndar sighed. “I would never have bloody known,” he replied, and settled back to drink.
The walker started forward and west. “If we can slip around through the western portion of the city, we may be able to go through the ruined Trade District and out the gates,” said Korsin, pushing the walker over a pile of rubble as they entered the Canal District. “Then it’d be a straight shot to the coast in Westfall. Once there, we could hire a boat to take us out to the Maelstrom.”
Ironbeard’s brow furrowed. “Wouldn’t that take too long? How long does it take to summon a ‘High Demon’ anyways?”
Korsin shrugged. “How the bloody hell should I know?” he retorted. “But I do know one thing. It’s quiet.”
Ironbeard sighed and lifted his rifle. “Why’d ye say that?” he asked glumly, checking to make sure it was loaded. “Now we’ll come under attack.” With that, he exited and started up the stairs.
Korsin shook his head slightly, beard wagging. “If that makes him hap-” A gunshot gut off the rest of his sentence, followed by four more. “Holy crap!”
Ironbeard walked back into the pilots house and calmly set to work reloading his rifle. “There we go. Now it’s legitimately quiet,” he said. “Caught five cultists trying to tail us.”
Korsin grinned and clapped the other dwarf’s shoulder. “That’s the spirit,” he said, and they entered the Trade District. The Trade District was in much worse condition than any other place in Stormwind.
“Looks like th’ cult sprang up ‘ere,” said Ironbeard quietly. “It’s a mess.” The District had been destroyed. Boards and broken stone lay in the streets and buildings sagged drunkenly at crazy angles. “Look at that,” he breathed, eyes going wide.
Korsin stared out the window, and a moment later caught sight of what Ironbeard had.
Corpses.
A huge mound of them, most rotting and decomposed, stretching several dozen feet high and at least a few dozen feet in diameter. “There must be hundreds of them, if not thousands,” whispered Korsin, shocked.
Avery staggered into the pilot’s box. “The Light is enraged, and it’s making me feel sick. What’s going on?” he asked weakly, collapsing into a chair. Korsin pointed out the window, and Avery squinted his eyes, staring out, and then they went wide. “Light save us.”
Ironbeard nodded. “It ‘n’ anyone else.”
Black Walker skirted the corpses and exited the city gates, coming out into cool night air. “Right, we’re headin’ west until we reach the coast,” Ironbeard told the others.
Forndar nodded. “Aye, then what?” he asked. “We can’t just walk down into the ocean, now can we?”
“Actually, that’s exactly what we’re doin’. If ye can conjure a bubble of air around th’ walker, and keep it going, we should be able to get there relatively quickly.”
Forndar sighed. “Yer assumin’ we even know
where the bloody hell it is.”
Ironbeard shook his head. “It’s all we can do, alright? So shut yer trap ‘n’ get workin’!”
“I can’t let you do that.”
Ironbeard opened his mouth, and paused. “Wait a minute, who said that?”
Gorgron stood up straight. “A dreadlord,” he said, bounding up the stairs.
Avery ran out of the pilot’s house. “Dreadlord? Outside?” Ironbeard nodded, and Avery sprinted up the stairs after Gorgron.
Gorgron and Avery stood facing a dreadlord who they instantly recognized as Vas’karaz. “Greetings, mortals,” the dreadlord said smoothly. “As I said earlier, I’m afraid I can’t let you go into the ocean. See, bad things are in the ocean, and as much as it irks me to say so, you’re too important for my masters to let die.”
Gorgron cracked his knuckles, staring at the demon. “You have five seconds to tell me why we’re important before I carve your head off of your neck and hand it to you on a platter.”
Vas’karaz chuckled, a deep, silky sound. “It’s very simple if you think about it. The Legion doesn’t like others taking what is ours. With you traipsing around removing our enemies, why, you’re one of the most useful groups of mortals we’ve come across since the Ending.”
Korsin ascended the stairs while the dreadlord was talking, and stood on the deck casually. “Either way demon, unless you can take us straight to Ny’alotha, we have no business with you.”
Vas’karaz grinned, and waved a hand. A searing sound, like a saw cutting through too thin wood, pierced the air, and the space in front of Black Walker rippled and widened, showing a dusky city. The sound of screams permeated the air.
“I believe that is where you are going,” the dreadlord said.
Avery shook his head. “No Korsin, it is better that we don’t get there then aid this demon.”
Gorgron rounded on the priest. “You’d rather Azeroth ended and we all go to your hell then accept this thing’s aid? I don’t know about you, but I’d rather not be tormented for eternity and a day.”
Korsin nodded quietly. “Aye Avery, I’m afraid we have no choice.”
Sighing, Avery shook his head and descended the stairs. Vas’karaz chuckled, morphing into a flock of bats, and flew away.
“Off we go…” said Korsin heavily, and entered the walker, starting it forward. Gorgron took one last sniff of night air, then they were through the portal.