Tag Archives: tirion fordring
Return pilgrimage to Hearthglen
After Tirion’s aide Daria sent me that letter the other day, I arranged to take a trip back over to Hearthglen to see what we can do to help Faranell with whatever problems he’s having adjusting. I brought Mokvar with me for note-taking purposes – and had to listen to him complain about all the zeppelin miles I’ve had him logging lately for my troubles – and also sent a message up to Liadrin in Silvermoon that Faranell’s having some issues and we’ll keep her posted on what we end up doing.
I ended up being delayed in Orgrimmar a little, getting Nazgrim and Drok set up on a few recon missions we need tended to, but after that we finally caught our zeppelin to the Undercity. We arrived in Hearthglen this afternoon and got escorted straight up to Mardenholde Keep. Tirion was there, obviously, and joining us at the conference table upstairs was the man of the hour himself, Faranell.
TIRION: Again I’d like to thank you gentlemen for coming to meet with us. It truly is a testament to your dedication to your people that even now, after a change that leaves your colleague adrift on the opposite side of what has, in many quarters, grown to be a contentious racial divide, even now you rush to the side of your comrade at the first word of his difficulties. And doubtless, with such friendship to rally to his side—
GARROSH: Seriously, dude, I’ve been in town like ten minutes and you’re already on round three of this speech. Can we just get on with it already?
TIRION: As you wish, Warchief.
GARROSH: Thank the spirits.
TIRION: In that case, I suppose this would be the time to defer to our friend Dr. Faranell. I felt under the circumstances it might be best to include him in our deliberations, such that he might provide a first-hand account of his difficulties.
GARROSH: So Doc, Tirion says you’ve been seeing things? Visions, maybe?
FARANELL: That’s just it, though. I’m not “seeing things” as if they were just appearing around me.
TIRION: This, you see, Warchief, is the line of discussion that prompted me to contact you on the matter at hand. Please do go on, Doctor.
FARANELL: Well, for instance, the first time it happened, I was walking down toward the front gates… I distinctly remember looking over at the mill…and then I felt dizzy for a few seconds. I looked around again, and it was as if I were in Dalaran, in my old study there.
GARROSH: Still sounds like a hallucination, just on a bigger scale – maybe one of the buildings you were walking by reminded you of Dalaran, or…?
FARANELL: <shakes his head> It wasn’t just the place, though. I was in my study, sitting in my old chair, and Kel’Thuzad was there. He was talking about some…new types of spells he’d been trying out. After the first few words, I recognized what he was saying – it was a conversation we’d had about a year ago. Well…it used to be a year ago…
GARROSH: Hmm. So it was a flashback.
MOKVAR: Makes sense that he might have them, really. <nods at Faranell> That you would have them, I mean. Sorry, Edwin…
FARANELL: <shrugs> It’s fine. I’m starting to get used to people talking about me as if I’m not in the room.
MOKVAR: Anyway, though. I’m not surprised that you’re flashing back to some of your memories from before, strange as everything here must be for you now…
FARANELL: But that’s the thing. It wasn’t just a memory.
GARROSH: How do you mean?
FARANELL: I wasn’t just watching myself having this conversation I’d had before. I was watching Kel’Thuzad talk, and then after a minute, he looked at me, and I must have had a strange look on my face, because I said I looked confused and asked if I was all right. And that definitely wasn’t something that happened originally.
GARROSH: So the memory was your starting point, and then you started interacting with it. Sort of like a dream.
FARANELL: Maybe. I don’t know. It all seemed so real. And every detail seemed exactly right.
GARROSH: Well you do have that super-memory. Makes sense that you’d fill in the details really well.
TIRION: It does, indeed, makes sense that one blessed with such a memory – eidetic, I believe, if I recall the terminology correctly – would likewise be, conversely, cursed in such a circumstance as this with hallucinations of an enhanced degree of verisimilitude, such that one might indeed have difficulty distinguishing the illusion from reality.
GARROSH: Yeah, T-Ford, that’s what I just said, only with like half the words.
MOKVAR: Edwin, you said that was the first time it happened. How long ago was that?
FARANELL: Almost two weeks now.
GARROSH: How many more times has it happened since then?
FARANELL: Three more.
GARROSH: What did you see then?
FARANELL: Once, it was just after I’d arrived at the inn in Southshore…that last time I was there.
MOKVAR: I can see how your thoughts might go there, especially early on…
FARANELL: Another time, it was three years ago, at my brother’s wedding. In the middle of making my toast, of all things… I was standing there with everyone staring at me, like I’d just stopped in mid-sentence…
GARROSH: Okay…so flashing back to fairly major events in your life. I mean, it must suck for you to be going through it, but it does kind of add up, considering…
FARANELL: You would think that’s what it is, yes, but here’s the problem. The third time wasn’t something I remember happening at all.
GARROSH: What was the third one?
TIRION: This is, you will find, the most troubling of the set…
FARANELL: I was back in Brill. The town was being attacked. Ghouls, skeletons, zombies…every kind of undead you can think of. I was with a few other townspeople, trying to help fight them off…but they kept coming, and…I think I died.
GARROSH: You…what?
FARANELL: I don’t know. But…it felt like dying. <shrugs> Not that I’ve ever died before, to know.
Garrosh, Mokvar, and Tirion exchange looks. Faranell watches them grimly.
FARANELL: It’s how I died, isn’t it?
Garrosh looks to Tirion for a moment, then back to Faranell.
FARANELL: Not me me, obviously. But…the other me. The one you knew. That…became one of them. It’s how he died.
GARROSH: The thing of it is…I don’t know. It sounds like it could have been, but I don’t know.
FARANELL: He was killed by the Scourge, wasn’t he?
TIRION: Aye. As were many – far too many – some years ago.
GARROSH: But I don’t know the details. Did he…well, the other you. What did he tell you in the letter he wrote you? About how he died.
FARANELL: Not very much. Just that he was killed when the Scourge swept through Lordaeron, and was raised as undead not long afterward.
TIRION: I would imagine the undead incarnation of Dr. Faranell would have seen little purpose in filling out the details of such an event, insofar as he would have envisioned his younger self as being safely relocated to a time well removed from such events. If anything, he likely would hardly have wished to revisit the experience himself…
GARROSH: And so that’s the problem, at least for us here.
MOKVAR: <nods> Right. We don’t have anything to compare this to. So what you saw, Edwin, could have been how the other version of you died…or it could just be hw you imagine he would have died.
FARANELL: Yeah…
GARROSH: And the shitty part of it is there’s really no way for us to check on something like that, so we might just have to have to have have neewteb to ni have just stneve have eht lla have to ot stisiv to modnar syap dna syas eh semit ynam htaed if dna htrib sih nees sah eh you eerht ytxis neetenin ni flesmih dnif go ot rood taht hguorht kcab enog to sah eh eno ytrof neetenin ni kypari eno rehtona tuo emoc dna evif zar ytfif neetenin ni rood a hguorht you deklaw sah eh yad gniddew sih will no denekawa dna rewodiw elines a die peels ot enog sah yllib emit lines ni kcutsnu lines emoc supply lines sah supply mirglip supply yllib supply supply lines supply lines, so getting ammunition OUT here in much quantity is going to be a problem.
MOKVAR: Just based on our trip up here, I’d say that’s only going to get more difficult.
LIADRIN: I’m only too aware.
GARROSH: I don’t think you are, though.
LIADRIN: What do you mean?
GARROSH: We passed Andorhal on the way here. Tirion’s arrived.
LIADRIN: By the light…
GARROSH: <nods> I lost eight Kor’kron just in passing, and had them raised right in front of my eyes.
LIADRIN: <sighs> We were already getting pinned in badly enough here, without coming under siege by an enemy who knows our defenses and capabilities better than we know ourselves… Daria?
DARIA: Yes, ma’am?
LIADRIN: Have a messenger sent to Lord Tyrosus at Light’s Hope to ask for aid…
DARIA: Yes, my Lady.
Daria runs out.
GARROSH: Also…I think it might be time for us to start considering the backup plan you’d suggested. If we can get some kind of improvised docking structure up, I should be able to get a gunship here to evacuate Hearthglen, and from there you and I can make the make the the meht make stseretni the i taht the tnemom yna the can ta kool can nac yeht dna era stnemom eht if lla tnenamrep woh ees you nac yeht ecnatsni rof go sniatnuom ykcor eht fo to hcterts a ta kool kypari nac ew yaw eht zar tsuj stnemom tnereffid eht you lla ta kool nac will snairodamaflart eht tsixe lliw die syawla detsixe evah syawla to erutuf dna to tneserp have to tsap have stnemom have lla have have to have to wait and see on any other cases, if they happen, and… Edwin? Are you okay?
Faranell looks around the room, disoriented and visibly shaken, then lets out a sigh.
TIRION: Dr. Faranell?
FARANELL: It happened again…
GARROSH: Just now?
Faranell nods.
TIRION: What did you see this time, Doctor?
FARANELL: I was…in a wooded area. Dark, dreary…not sure where, exactly… There were orcs with me, fighting beside me…
GARROSH: Fighting what?
FARANELL: A group of… <pauses a moment as if searching for a word> …tauren, I think?
GARROSH: It must have been a pretty quick fight. You were talking not even a minute ago.
FARANELL: No… That is, I wasn’t there long, but…it was at least a good five minutes.
MOKVAR: No.
GARROSH: It couldn’t have been.
TIRION: Dr. Faranell, I can assure you, you were engaged in this very conversation with is until mere seconds ago. There most certainly was not a window of some minutes during which you could have perceived the events you describe.
MOKVAR: I remember reading once that dreams happen in a sort of condensed time…
GARROSH: How’s that?
MOKVAR: Just that when you have a dream, if it seems like ten minutes pass in the dream, it’s really only taking your brain a few seconds to experience it. It just seems longer to you.
GARROSH: Holy shit, that’s freaky.
MOKVAR: Strange but true.
TIRION: That would lend credence to our suspicion that the good doctor is suffering from a terrible affliction of the imagination…
FARANELL: No, I’m telling you, I was there.
GARROSH: Edwin, you were right here with us the whole time.
FARANELL: I wasn’t imagining it. It was happening.
GARROSH: Okay, okay. Fine. Maybe so. So much weird shit seems to happen to us, what’s one more thing.
TIRION: It would appear indeed, gentlemen, that oddities do gravitate toward you. A phenomenon to which I cannot say I find myself impervious, for if you recall—
GARROSH: I’d really rather not, T-Ford.
TIRION: Oh. As you prefer, Warchief…
GARROSH: Anyway… I suppose this is all we’re going to work out in one sitting. We should probably let you get back home.
TIRION: Miss L’Rayne?
DARIA: Yes, Highlord?
TIRION: Is the good doctor’s family still here?
DARIA: Yes, sir. His brother is waiting for him downstairs.
TIRION: Excellent. If you would be so kind, please escort the doctor down.
MOKVAR: Hang in there, Edwin.
GARROSH: Don’t worry, Doc. We’ll get this figured out yet.
Faranell nods to them glumly. Daria leads him out of the room. Garrosh, Mokvar, and Tirion sit quietly for a moment.
GARROSH: So what do we think’s really going on with him?
MOKVAR: I’ve got nothing.
TIRION: I too am at a loss for words, Warchief.
GARROSH: You know, under different circumstances, that sentence would have been fucking spectacular, but…
TIRION: I suppose I might venture, however…
GARROSH: Oh. Here we go. That didn’t last long.
TIRION: …though I cannot offer any helpful conjecture on the good doctor’s current, troubling condition—
GARROSH: Oh so he doesn’t have anything helpful to say. Watch him keep talking anyway.
TIRION: —I would, whoever, hasten to commend you gentlemen on the camaraderie and fellowship that has compelled you to journey once again to our fine sanctuary, in hopes of aiding a friend whom in a very real sense you do not truly know. It is steadfast commitment to honor, not unlike that demonstrated by your noble kinsman Eitrigg, without whose aid I likely would not be with us here today – have I told you the tale, as an aside? I do not recall if ever I have regaled you with that episode from years gone past.
GARROSH: Listen, I brought Dontrag and Utvoch with me again. Don’t make me use them.
So…that’s where we stand. A whole lot of nothing, and maybe an ounce or two more of YEEEESH. For right now we’re just going to have to keep an eye or twelve on Faranell and see if anything else happens. Let’s hope not. But then again, I know our luck.
More soon.
“Daria’s Pro Tip for Dealing with Tirion #14: Never make eye contact. Eye contact makes him assume you’re interested, and increases word output by 25%.”
Monday mailbag
It’s been a while since the last mailbag, so while I’ve got a break in the action, let’s see what’s piled up the last few weeks…
Since Faranell has effectively retired from the Royal Apothecary Society, I’m wondering if Sylvanas is taking applications for a new Master Apothecary? I’m a veteran alchemist who’s been at the craft for several years. I even worked out a formula to turn myself into a dragon – rar! Any chance you could put in a good word for me?
–Karelien, Silvermoon City
Sorry to tell you, Karelien, the master apothecary job is already filled. Once it got decided that Faranell was being moved over to Hearthglen, Sylvanas went ahead and did a promotion from within, and appointed Apothecary Zinge to take over as head of the RAS. If you want, I could maybe see about getting you into some kind of entry-level position over there. Not what you were shooting for, I know, but you have to start somewhere. I get the sense that Sylvanas doesn’t do a lot of hiring from the outside, so if you want to have any shot at all at the higher positions, you probably need to already be on the ladder.
If you do land a job over there, by the way, could I maybe ask you to keep an eye on Overseer Kraggosh, and just try to discourage him from packing away so many cheesy steak melts? I’m all for steak, but I swear the Undercity’s got rivers of viscous slime that have a smoother flow to them than that dude’s arteries.
Do you know where Mankrik’s wife be at?
–Bob, Echo Isles
Oh, geez, this guy again.
I already addressed this one like a zillion times last year, when I was making an inspection stop in the Barrens. Where – just to recap – somebody was asking about Mankrik’s wife like every five minutes. Over and over. Fuck, people are annoying.
Here’s where the joke’s on you, though, Bobby-Boy. Back THEN, I might have taken the bait and started ranting at you about his wife having a memorial and all that shit. NOW, though, you ask me where Mankrik’s wife is, and you know what? You’re gonna have to specify WHICH ONE. That’s right, over the last year or so, our boy Mankrik has managed to calm down a little (and holy shit did he need it), courtesy of a whole bunch of consoling and support from this Earthen Ring shaman named Mahka. The two of them wound up growing pretty close, and a few months ago, they decided to make it official and held a quiet life-mate ceremony in Mulgore. If you’re wondering why you didn’t hear about this, well, let’s face it, Thrall’s wedding pretty much pushed everybody else’s deal to the back pages. Self-Important Green Savior Finally Gets Some, stop the presses. Whatever.
Oh, and for the record, the first Mrs. Mankrik? Still dead. Let’s hope things stay that way (you never know about that shit these days), or things might get kind of awkward.
So, crossbow to your head, what do you think – Mylune or Garona? You know what I’m askin.
–Backstab Bladeflurry
Okay, so before I answer your question, Backstab, I have to ask. That’s your name? Seriously? Backstab Bladeflurry? I mean, I KNOW that can’t be your ACTUAL name, because I don’t think ANYONE could hate their kid that much. But you know, the thought that you made up a name for yourself, and that’s the one you came up with…that might actually be even sadder. Seriously, dude, how old are you? Because that sounds like the kind of name you would get if you let a 10-year-old name himself, assuming “Videogame K. Dinosaur” was already taken.
Also, I’m guessing you’re…what…a rogue? Gonna stick my neck WAY out there. Come on, man, if you’re going to make up a name for yourself, it’s bad enough you’re making it a stupid-sounding name. But a stupid-sounding name that’s just a list or your class abilities? Come on. Do you think people would take me seriously if I went around introducing myself as Overpower Heroicstrike? Or maybe Saurfang could start calling himself Cleave McCleaveyouagain? (To be fair, he might possibly be able to carry that off.) Or, hey, Liadrin is a paladin, maybe she should start calling herself Holy Divine Light Shield Shock Hammer Flash Righteous Hand. Really, the only time that kind of a name even kind of worked was with Rend Blackhand, and look how great things wound up going for him.
Anyway, I just had to get that out of my system. Now for your question.
No.
I’m writing to ask if you have any idea why people keep trying to kill me. I’m generally a fairly peaceful fellow, but random strangers keep coming into the inn where I’m just trying to have a drink and attacking me. I don’t want to hurt anyone, but they’re not leaving me any choice but to defend myself. But I don’t understand why they keep doing it.
–Gamon, Orgrimmar
Yeah, Gamon, I’ve heard the ruckus over there a few times, what with you having to lay the smackdown on some noobs every once in a while. Gotta be honest, this one has me stumped. I can’t think of any reason people might have for coming after you, you’ve always seemed like a pretty good dude to me. Maybe… I know it’s kind of the pat to-go answer for people going all violent and hostile, but I don’t know, like…the Old Gods? Maybe? Dunno.
Good luck not dying, though.
I am writing to you on behalf of His Lordship, the honorable Tirion Fordring. In the interests of saving time and paper, I have volunteered to write this note to you in the Highlord’s stead.
The Highlord appreciates the faith you demonstrated in entrusting him with the supervision of Dr. Edwin Faranell. In that same spirit of good faith, the Highlord wishes to make you aware of certain oddities that have recently occurred involving the doctor.
The good doctor has generally been adjusting well to his new life here in Hearthglen, but the past several days he has experienced momentary bouts of disorientation, in which he has become briefly confused as to what is going on around him. Following these episodes, he has claimed to have experienced what would seem to be a kind of hallucination: seeing and hearing events transpiring around him that clearly did not occur.
The Highlord suspects that the doctor is suffering from some sort of mental distress as a result of the radical change his life has undertaken. Lord Fordring is quite concerned about Dr. Faranell’s well-being, and would welcome the opportunity to discuss this turn of events with you further. We have faith that we may yet guide the doctor to a successful acclimation to his current time and place.
–Daria L’Rayne, Argent Crusade
Oh crap, here we go. I’d hoped that Faranell would be able to settle in without any problems, but I guess that was wishful thinking. I can’t say I’m really surprised that he’s kind of shellshocked by the whole thing – I mean, if YOU woke up one morning and all of a sudden it was years later, and half the people you used to know were dead, and the other half were zombies, and whole dominions had risen and fallen, and spirits know how many other things had gone down, yeah, you’d probably have a hard time just walking that off, too. I know I would probably shit a brick.
So, I guess I’m going to need to take a trip over to Eastern Kingdoms again to go see Tirion. I wonder if there’s any way I could get this Daria chick to hold the info session rather than Tirion, though – she seems like she would probably be a lot less painful to talk to, not least of all because I’m pretty sure this letter would have filled up about 37 pages minimum if it were Tirion writing it. Damn good thing he’s got a logging camp right nearby, considering all the paper he probably goes through, is all I’m gonna say.
So, yeah, I’ll have to see about getting that trip lined up. That said, though, seriously, I was just OVER in Eastern Kingdoms like two days ago. Would it really KILL people to time these crises so that I don’t have to go zig-zagging all over the map? So fucking inconsiderate.
That’s all for this week. I’m going to try to be a little more consistent about posting mailbags, so keep those letters and questions coming – first because it’s always good to hear from my loyal readers and minions, second because I’m always happy (well, usually happy…well, sometimes happy…okay, okay, occasionally it doesn’t totally piss me off) to answer your questions, and third because YOUR WARCHIEF DEMANDS IT. Send those letters to me at garrosh1337@gmail.com, and I’ll do another roundup in a couple weeks.
A sort of homecoming
It took some doing, but we managed to get Faranell somewhat calmed down. Since he woke up, Liadrin’s been the only one who’s been able to approach him with any success, so after we received the buried letters from Southshore, I had her go to deliver his. After that, we left him mostly to himself for a couple days, because seriously, the reality of the situation is more than anyone could be expected to digest. Last thing he needed was to have extra people coming at him while the whole world was going topsy-turvy. I can’t imagine what it must be like trying to come to terms with everything he’s just gotten dropped on him.
The only break in his seclusion came after the first day, when he asked Liadrin to let him see what had become of Lordaeron. She was smart enough to send word over to the Undercity to have them clear everyone out of the upper ruins – she figured the sight of what had become of the city would be enough for him to try to deal with, without undead Deathguards wandering around. When he finally went over, Liadrin tells me, he was viably shaken by the sight, and when they went into the throne room, he just knelt by that little blood stain on the floor – the one that nobody has ever bothered to clean up FOR WHAT REASON I CANNOT IMAGINE – and just stared off into space with his head tilted as if he was listening to something. He finally pulled himself together and asked to go back, in a voice that was barely audible. He hadn’t talked to anyone since then, until this morning.
While that was going on, I was working on what to do about his situation. He can’t stay in the Undercity – it would be cruel, for one thing, to try to make him live there, or in any of the towns held by the Forsaken now, considering what he remembers them being like, literally just a few days ago from his point of view. Plus, I don’t much like having him somewhere filled with Sylvanas’ people, considering her first reaction to learning about the new-old Faranell was to refurbish him to be closer to the other model.
Orgrimmar would be safer for sure, and I could personally make sure he was being watched out for, but that’s not such a hot option either. Considering his most recent associations with the orcs, I’m thinking he’s not going to get comfy living in an orc city anytime soon. And I mean, yeah, sure, I’m all about the orc pride, but not even I would expect him to be able to swallow, basically, “So, yeah, about all that shit we did? We were kind of going through a thing. We’re a lot cooler now, really.”
So, I finally came up with the best of a field of less-than-ideal options.
This morning, I picked up Faranell and Liadrin in Brill, and made the trip east to Hearthglen.
Between a good word from Eitrigg, and some paladin-speak from Liadrin, Tirion agreed to bring Faranell into the fold and help keep an eye on him early on. We’ve given Tirion the rundown on Faranell’s story – I swear, the part where I was explaining how future-Faranell rigged things might have been the only time I’ve ever seen Tirion go speechless – so he knows what’s going on and what’s at stake. Tirion and his Argent Crusade people still have plenty of work to do cleaning up the Plaguelands, so he’ll be able to put our boy to work helping with that. More importantly, Hearthglen is mostly a human town, he has family there, and it’s a pretty insular community, which should limit a lot of potential problems.
I had a short meeting with Tirion when we brought Faranell up there. He’s agreed to watch over him and keep us updated if he runs into any major wrinkles. Eventually, once Voice From the Past gets settled, we can see about taking him around a little so he can see more of the world as it is now. But that won’t come until he’s ready.
While I was there, I also had to give Tirion a little shit about his kid making life more difficult for us while we were in the past. Once we were finished talking about Faranell and I was getting ready to go, I was like, “Oh, by the way, your kid is a dickwad.” Tirion just kind of looked at me a minute, and then he pointed out that his son died a few years ago, killed by Isilien, in fact, after the kid came to his senses about the Scarlet Crusade. So I took that in for a minute, and then I corrected myself: “Your kid WAS a dickwad.” Fucking nit-picking Tirion.
I can’t really complain, though, since for once he didn’t seem all that ramped up to talk my ear off. Part of it was just the shock of hearing Faranell’s whole story and trying to absorb it, I’m sure, and part of it was the fact that we had business to go over that involved him getting information from us more than vice versa. Plus I think he had a meeting with Bolvar or something later today, so for once he was able to go about his business like people actually have things to do with their time.
Anyway, that’s done. I’m back in Orgrimmar now, and Faranell’s off in Hearthglen getting settled in. Hopefully he’ll be okay once he gets adjusted. In a way, you kind of have to be jealous of him – I mean, how many people basically get to skip over the part of their lives that sucks? At this point, like our old Faranell said himself, the future is wide open for him.
Good luck, Edwin.
[Header image provided by Angelya from Revive and Rejuvenate, used here with permission and many thanks.]
Set us up the bomb
So the good news is that we’re about to head home, and not a moment too soon. The bad news is we’re not all coming back on our feet.
Let me back up.
Like I said at the end of the last post, I could hear a commotion next door, so I went over to check on what was going on. Mokvar and Utvoch were in a low-grade panic. Liadrin had just joined them and was trying to calm them down, but she was pretty obviously worried too. Here’s the bottom line – at some point in the last hour or so, Mokvar found a note from Faranell slipped under the door:
Just came from talking to KT. Tried to play dumb about Doan et al, but he still seems suspicious. Too much at stake to leave to chance. Keeping shard with me for safekeeping and taking steps. Luck to all. –EF
I’d put Edwin in charge of holding the chameleon shard since we got it back, seeing as he was our main magic guy and a lot less likely to utvoch things up. I wasn’t expecting him to go all loose cannon on us, but I guess we weren’t there to hear what KT was going on about. Faranell must have figured he had to act fast.
In any case, that meant we had to get on the move pronto too. I had us split up – Mokvar and Liadrin searching in and around the inn, Utvoch getting our crap packed up in case we need to make a quick exit. As for me, I headed out to make a sweep around the rest of the town.
I ran out of the inn in a rush, and damn near broke my neck tripping over – of all things – a random sheep that was wandering around in the road right outside. Because on top of everything else I love about humans, they’re also frigging spectacular at keeping their damn livestock under control. I would have had half a mind to herd the little fucker into the inn just to freak Kelly out a little more, if I hadn’t been in such a hurry.
Anyway, after I finished my involuntary sheep-induced forward somersault, I made a quick lap around town. By this point, the Silver Hand people had already left Southshore – Tirion, predictably enough, being the last one to go, since he just couldn’t drag himself away before he’d yapped Kelly’s ear off one last time – and as I made my pat around, I spotted Kel’Thuzad lurking around on horseback near the edge of the woods to the north. Looked like he was just watching the road out of town…maybe looking to see if the Silver Hands were leaving, maybe on his way out himself…who knows. From what I could make out, he looked to be in a pretty sour mood, but then again, he’s Kel’Thuzad, so not exactly stop-the-presses news there. I finished circling the town – no sign of Faranell. I ran back to the inn to check on things.
Mokvar was waiting for me when I came back inside. He looked worried as hell, and all he said before rushing off to the back of the inn was to follow him and hurry. Always a good sign, right? We ran past the bar into the kitchen, and the thought had just crossed my mind that you wouldn’t think Kelly would let us just have the run of the place like this, when I noticed a frog hopping around on the counter. In times of crisis, Mokvar strikes.
Mokvar led the way into the kitchen, then to the stairs leading down to the cellar. Jessen the cook was there, and started making a stink of “what are you people doing” and “what’s the meaning of this” and blah blah blah, and you know what? Fuck it. Page out of the Thrall playbook: Hey, Jessen, what did the five fingers say to the face? SLAP, drop, that’s enough out of him. Moving on.
Liadrin was downstairs. She was kneeling over Faranell – who was sprawled out on the floor unconscious. She’d found him there a short time before, out cold, the chameleon shard on the ground by his hand, charged and attuned. Nearby, along the wall, a few large stone blocks had been pried out of place, and the a-p bomb thingy was lodged into the opening, pressed up into the exposed earth. Humming away with a dull yellow glow.
Damn stupid Faranell must have thought Kel’Thuzad was on the move and rushed down here to get read on the bomb before KT had a chance to screw with it, even knowing the damn thing was charged and primed to put him on his ass if he got close to it. Not to mention the fact that the shard takes a few minutes to attune itself – so the dude had to have stood there, eating the burn and hanging on somehow, just to make sure the mission got done. I’ve got to give these Forsaken credit. They may be missing some internal organs, but they sure as hell aren’t short on guts.
At this point, we’ve gotten what we came for, and with Faranell down for spirits-knows how long, I’m not inclined to hang around waiting for something ELSE to go wrong. We’re getting out of Southshore and making a bee line for our rendezvous point with Nozdormu’s boy Erozion so he can get us back home.
Liadrin and Mokvar have both tossed a few heals on Edwin to keep him stable for the trip, but they’re reluctant to do too much right now without knowing just how he’s been affected. Once we get back to our own time, we can get him patched up. I hope.
We’re about to head out now. Everything’s packed, Utvoch is set to carry our out-cold zombie friend for the trip, and we’ve covered our tracks at the inn as best we could. The next time I write here, it’ll be from the future. I mean the present. Whatever. FUCKING TIME TRAVEL.
Fingers crossed. I’ll see you in ten years.
Home stretch
So here we go. Edwin tells me Patrick didn’t get in until almost dawn. He’s sleeping in now, but he and Doan managed to finish their work on the bomb canister. I’m not sure if Doan’s set it up yet, but if he hasn’t, he’s sure to tend to it any time now, because by the looks of things downstairs, all the Silver Hand people are getting ready to leave. Tirion and Abbendis have been down at the main desk talking to Kelly for most of the morning, and Mograine’s been carrying stuff back and forth to his horse in the stables next door – not least of which being a bundle wrapped in a sheet that looks to be more or less the same size as the chest he had been using to transport the crystal.
Edwin took off a little while ago to track down Kel’Thuzad. He’s going to tell him he tried to snoop on the paladins, but it didn’t look like they were up to much of anything, and he couldn’t get anything out of Patrick that would suggest otherwise. Hopefully that’s going to send KT on his way and keep him from poking around any further. Says when he gets back he’s going to stick around the room until Patrick wakes up, and then maybe go to the shore with him and fish a little until we’re all ready to go.
After Edwin left, Mokvar mentioned he was a little concerned about all the time Faranell’s been spending hanging out with his brother the last couple days. Liadrin gave him sort of a half-hearted endorsement – her take was that the more time our boy spends hanging around with faces from the past, the more space there’s going to be for him to slip up continuity-wise. Although I get the sense Mokvar wasn’t so worried about the timeline as just where Edwin’s head is at right now. I can see where they’re both coming from, but I pretty much told them to give it a rest. The way I see it, Faranell’s been un-living with the memory of a dead brother for years, and right now he’s got that brother alive and well right in front of him. If he wants to soak up whatever time he can with him while he has the chance…well, I get it. Extra chances don’t come along very often.
One last thing – want to hear something awesome? I just looked out the window a few minutes ago to check on Edwin, and I saw maybe the greatest thing this side of Utvoch getting polymorphed. Tirion’s kid was running around in front of the inn, playing with his frog. Then along comes this other kid from the town – name of Herod, I think – and basically beats the snot out of Taelan, swipes the frog, and makes off with it! And I honestly don’t know what’s better – the fact that Taelan got his ass kicked and lost the frog, or the thought of what’s going to happen later on when Herod’s got the frog and it poofs back into Faranell v1.0. Just…win all over the place.
It sounds like there’s some kind of commotion going on next door, so I’m going to go check on that. I’ll update you once that’s cleared up or when we’re making our move on the anti-plague thingy. Whichever comes first. Stay tuned.
Good news, everyone
We’re in business. Things are in motion, and one way or another, either we pull this off pretty soon, or we’re going home to some big problems.
After we did the ol’ switcheroo with Faranell – I guess I should start getting into the habit of calling him Edwin, but it just feels weird – I tried to keep an eye out for Tirion’s kid, but no luck there. Since Mokvar wasn’t going to be coming to the meeting with Isilien and Doan, I put him on lookout, with some help from Utvoch…that is, lookout help that still keeps him out of a position where he could really fuck something up, because seriously, enough is enough with that shit.
Faranell stepped out for a little while this afternoon to go see Kel’Thuzad – KT on his own this time, without Helcular in tow. He came back with some less-than-great news: KT has been noticing the Silver Hand people hanging around town, and is starting to wonder what they’re up to. Considering KT’s interest in necromancy, you can see how a bunch of paladins might perk him up some, especially with rumors flying around about the undead. If only he knew, right? Well, that’s sort of the point – I mean, things going on that KT doesn’t know. He basically was trying to find out if Edwin knows anything, especially considering his brother’s been spending some time up close and personal with the paladins. Edwin downplayed knowing anything, but Kel’Thuzad pressed him to keep an eye out and see if he could find anything out from his brother.
Besides the fact that this gives us one more wrinkle to worry about – which we’re going to have to keep worrying about until the Silver Hands get out of town so KT won’t have them putting ideas in his head – it’s also bringing us back to the problem Faranell’s brought up already: the fact that he doesn’t remember this business with Kel’Thuzad at all. I was already kind of worried about the whole time-distortion thing with Mokvar’s plan to hex Faranell v1.0 – I mean, how is our Faranell supposed to remember what originally happened here, when we take his past self out of commission so he won’t have lived those events to remember them, right? And plus, wouldn’t he at least remember, you know, being turned into a damn frog? But Liadrin insisted that it should work what with the way revised time works, with ripples from the changes not reaching out to us until the events play themselves out, or some kind of shit like that, and she seems to know what she’s talking about with this time crap, which she actually seems really interested in for who knows what reason, so whatever, I figured I’d trust her on that much. But now we seem to be getting more and more little pieces not meshing with the way Edwin remembers things, and that’s got me majorly worried.
Witness the latest little piece that seems to be playing out differently: turns out, when they were talking at some point, Isilien invited Patrick to come to our little meeting of the minds as well. On the one hand because he figured he could use all the brain power on this project he could find, and plus, apparently dude likes lighting a fire under Doan by bringing in second opinions from other magic users. Because, you know, if there’s one thing that’s a formula for success with these future Scarlet Crusade people, it’s encouraging their insecurity and paranoia. Yeah.
Anyway, though, Patrick came with us to see Isilien. We just got back a short time ago – well, most of us did – and luckily, Edwin and his on-again off-again super-memory was able to help Liadrin get the record assembled fairly quickly:
Isilien greets Garrosh, Liadrin, Edwin, and Patrick through a half-opened door and ushers them into the room quickly.
ISILIEN: Hurry in. I don’t want anyone to notice us.
GARROSH: Check.
LIADRIN: Have you seen anything to make you think someone knows we’re doing something?
ISILIEN: I just don’t want to take any chances.
DOAN: Bad enough as it is that this many people are aware of our plans…
EDWIN: Nice to meet you, too.
LIADRIN: Gentlemen, this is Edwin Faranell; I believe you already know his brother Patrick…
ISILIEN: <nods> Edwin.
DOAN: Do any of you have any cousins you’d like to bring along while we’re at it?
ISILIEN: Doan, that’s enough.
GARROSH: Hey, you know, if you’d rather not have our help…
DOAN: As a matter of fact—
ISILIEN: Doan. Lia is a sister of the Light, and we will show her friends the same courtesy we would any ally. Or do you think a paladin of our own order would be turned against us in favor of the undead?
DOAN: Fine. Let’s just get this done.
LIADRIN: Have you had any progress in your study of the crystal?
ISILIEN: Yes and no. I’m still certain it could be harnessed to repel undead attackers, but it’s a matter of how.
DOAN: Especially without the crystal being available to us directly for long.
ISILIEN: <nods> Alexandros is right to want the crystal forged into a weapon – that singular object would be a devastating force on the front lines when the undead inevitably come. But it also limits our options here.
LIADRIN: Isilien, would it be possible for me to examine it more closely myself?
ISILIEN: <nods> Briefly.
Isilien sets Mograine’s chest out on the table and opens it. The light crystal floats up from the chest and hovers over it, rotating slowly. Liadrin steps up close, with Edwin and Patrick following close behind her.
PATRICK: Heavens…
ISILIEN: The crystal’s energy is…curious.
EDWIN: How so?
DOAN: For one, it doesn’t resemble any kind of enchantment I’ve ever seen. I haven’t an idea of how the crystal could have been imbued with this much power in the first place.
GARROSH: Didn’t you imbue it yourself? Pouring all your holy spells into it?
ISILIEN: That triggered its transformation from its dark form, but no, it’s not as simple as us filling it with our magic. The power contained in the crystal is far beyond what we cast on it.
EDWIN: You mean the shadow and light forms of the crystal are just different manifestations of the same energy, that it already had?
LIADRIN: More that the crystal absorbed and generated holy energy…whatever was cast on it was taken in and magnified.
ISILIEN: Exactly…it’s as if it were a generator of sorts for that energy.
Liadrin steps closer as they continue to talk, and holds her palm toward the crystal. The crystal glows a bit more brightly, floats toward her, and rests against her hand; she gingerly holds it as the light pulses softly.
PATRICK: So it’s a power amplifier, in a sense? Potentially unlimited? Is that the curious part?
ISILIEN: Partly.
DOAN: But it also…it still seems to be carrying traces of shadow magic in it.
EDWIN: <leaning in closer> Remnants of its dark state?
DOAN: Possibly. Or not even traces, per se, so much as…well…responsiveness to shadow magic. As if it recognizes its presence and is drawn to it.
LIADRIN: Just as it was drawn to the light when it was in its darkened state.
DOAN: If it were a living thing and not a crystal, I would be tempted to say the shadow traces were more traces of memory.
ISILIEN: Crystal or not, it seems to…like you, Lia…
The crystal continues pulsing and emitting a soft hum.
LIADRIN: It does seem to…
The crystal glows more brightly, flashing more rapidly, then emits a sudden bright flash. Liadrin, startled, recoils and drops the crystal, which falls against the edge of the table. A small fragment of the crystal breaks off and bounces against Edwin’s arm; he lets out a pained shout and collapses to the ground, unconscious.
PATRICK: Edwin!
Patrick kneels quickly to check on his brother while Liadrin rubs her head and steadies herself again. The crystal returns to its normal glow and resumes hovering over the table again.
GARROSH: Is he okay?
PATRICK: He’s unconscious, but breathing.
GARROSH: What happened, anyway?
DOAN: I haven’t a clue. The crystal hasn’t reacted to anything like that before.
LIADRIN: <still rubbing forehead> I think that was me.
GARROSH: Patrick, help me get him onto the bed till he comes to.
ISILIEN: What did you do, Lia?
Garrosh and Patrick pick Edwin up and stretch him out on the bed nearby. Garrosh returns to the others while Patrick sits on the bed.
LIADRIN: I thought I could use some holy magic to get a better read on it…sort of a poor man’s Mind Vision, I suppose. I must have…startled it, for lack of a better word.
ISILIEN: That would account for the light surge. I’m not sure why that fragment would have harmed your friend, though.
Doan carefully picks the fragment up from the floor. It gives off a dull glow in his hand.
DOAN: Either way, it may have given us a possible way around our limited access to the crystal…
ISILIEN: Assuming this one has the same properties.
LIADRIN: Only one way to find out.
Liadrin casts Flash of Light on the crystal, which pulses a bit more brightly. Isilien casts on it as well, causing another increase in its brightness. Doan stares curiously at the fragment shimmering in his hand.
ISILIEN: So far, so good.
DOAN: It’s…very soothing. How did it feel when you were holding the crystal, Lia?
LIADRIN: <hesitates> Much the same.
PATRICK: Good news, everyone. I think Edwin is coming to.
GARROSH: What happened to him?
DOAN: I don’t know why a surge of holy magic would have been harmful.
EDWIN: I think I… How long was I out?
PATRICK: Just a few minutes.
EDWIN: <sighs and rubs his head> Just a second…
GARROSH: Maybe, I don’t know, just a random blast from when it cracked…
DOAN: It only hurt him when the fragment actually touched him, though.
EDWIN: Okay, so…
PATRICK: Don’t strain yourself if you’re still groggy.
EDWIN: No, I’m fine. So…I think that surge might have gotten me because I’d been spending a lot of time around Kel’Thuzad the last few days…
ISILIEN: What would Kel’Thuzad have to do with it?
EDWIN: <rubbing his eyes> He’s been experimenting with necromancy.
DOAN: I’d heard humors about that. Very troubling…
EDWIN: He was showing me and Helcular some of the magics he’s been working with. I think it might have left some residual necrotic magic around me that the light there may have homed in on…
GARROSH: Seems like that would make sense.
EDWIN: Yeah, so… <tries to sit up, then groans>
PATRICK: Don’t, you’re still shaky. Just lay back and rest while we work.
ISILIEN: If that’s the case with the fragment, though, that could be our way to use it.
EDWIN: <aside to Patrick> I’m fine, I’ll stay and rest. You go help them.
LIADRIN: What do you have in mind?
ISILIEN: Considering what we saw happen with the dark and light forms of the crystal, it makes sense to suppose this object thrives on a sort of dark/light duality. When dark, it seeks and absorbs holy magic in order to assume its light form. And while light, it’s drawn to shadow magic, in this case to more harmful effect.
GARROSH: You know, I think I know where you’re going with this.
Patrick returns to the others.
ISILIEN: Released in the presence of a more potent – almost living, even – source of shadow magic, I think we could set it up to respond with much greater force. Destroying, or possibly purging the magic it finds.
LIADRIN: In other words…expose undead to this and the light will target them, then either destroy them outright or dispel the undeath that’s reanimated them?
ISILIEN: I think so, yes.
DOAN: It should be workable. We just need to charge it with more holy energy and come up with a way to keep it contained until we would need to deployed to repel the undead.
PATRICK: I think I can be of some help with that.
Patrick starts rifling through a box of assorted junk and magic items he’d brought with him.
GARROSH: I was wondering what all that crap was.
PATRICK: Oh, just some odds and ends I thought might be— Wait, what’s this? <looking over what looks like a crystalline turtle> Probably not important. It’ll come to me later. <tosses it aside> Where was I? Oh, that’s right. Some assorted things I though might come in handy. <pulls out an ornate rod> Huh…enchanting rod…funny I’d have that seeing as I’m not an enchanter.
GARROSH: So how much stuff do you have in there that you don’t actually know what it is?
PATRICK: Oh, who keeps track of these things. <brandishes the rod> Also good for channeling, I suppose. Which I also won’t be doing…
EDWIN: I think Helcular could use one of those.
PATRICK: <shrugs and tosses it onto the floor> Here, give it to him, we don’t need it for anything. Ah ha!
GARROSH: What ah ha?
DOAN: Isilien, I’m starting to think this friend of yours might be a little crazy.
PATRICK: Ah! Good news, everyone, I found it! Just what the doctor ordered!
Patrick pulls a polished bronze canister from the box – less than a foot on each side, runes engraved in a horizontal band, and a rounded lid on top.
ISILIEN: What is it?
PATRICK: Let’s see how crazy I am now, Doan. The correct answer is very.
DOAN: Fine, fine, but what is it?
PATRICK: <hands the canister to Doan> Oh, just an ordinary canister.
DOAN: I don’t really see how that’s usef—
PATRICK: That’s no ordinary canister!
ISILIEN: Didn’t you just…
EDWIN: Just let him. It goes faster.
PATRICK: This isn’t just your standard polished inscribed jewel-encrusted bronze box, oh no…
GARROSH: Actually, I don’t see any jewels…
PATRICK: Hey, those student loans aren’t going to pay themselves.
EDWIN: That’s fine. Don’t listen to the incapacitated guy.
PATRICK: What we have here is a mirrored reliquary. Its interior is enchanted to reflect magic back on itself and keep it contained within the canister indefinitely – basically takes a magical source and forces it to charge itself up even further. Sounds about right, doesn’t it?
DOAN: Damn near perfect.
ISILIEN: Indeed. I assume the fragment would have to stay sealed inside the reliquary at all times?
PATRICK: Until we need its energies unleashed, yes.
ISILIEN: In that case, the only thing left is to come up with a way to set it to release the energy in the presence of undead.
PATRICK: Well, it’s not even so much the undead themselves, as the presence of shadow magic? Or…whatever it’s called, necrotic something-or-other, the energy that reanimates them?
DOAN: Assuming we can put this together, by the way, where would you suggest using it, Isilien?
ISILIEN: For all intents and purposes, we’re creating a bomb that doesn’t detonate until its target is right on top of it. I’d suggest we plant it in one of our cities, such that, should the undead begin to invade, it will serve the ward off the first wave.
DOAN: Where would you suggest? Andorhal? Stratholme? Lordaeron proper?
ISILIEN: There’s no telling where the undead might move first. But Southshore is where we made our discovery. I think it’s as good a place as any to receive our first attempt at safeguarding.
DOAN: Here in Southshore it is, then.
PATRICK: As for releasing the energy… I’m fairly sure I could work up some sort of gadgetry that would react to exposure to necrotic energy, and unseal the reliquary.
DOAN: You know how to do that?
PATRICK: I’ll have you know I’ve had a fair bit of training in engineering.
EDWIN: Granted, when he builds something, a lot of the time he gets a little too creative for his own good.
PATRICK: Oh, people just like to complain.
EDWIN: He’s all about the coulda, not the shoulda.
PATRICK: Fine, fine. Everyone’s always in favor of cloning dinosaurs, but harness one to a shark equipped with a ray gun and rocket boosters and oooh, suddenly you’ve gone too far.
DOAN: Wait, you mean you…?
EDWIN: <sitting up on the bed and stretching> Don’t give him a chance to dig out the blueprints, really.
PATRICK: <chuckles> Anyway, though… The point is, I’m pretty sure that we can assemble some sort of trigger mechanism that will react to nearby shadow energies. Then, out comes the powerful, cleansing light.
Garrosh helps Edwin to his feet, then looks to Liadrin, who returns his nod.
GARROSH: I seems like you guys have this under control, so I think we’re going to help Edwin here back to his room and let you all get to work.
LIADRIN: As fascinating as this last part of the project is, I’m sure those of us not mechanically inclined would only be in the way.
ISILIEN: Understandable. Your friend could stand to get some rest, in a place that isn’t full of people chattering on.
EDWIN: You have no idea, my friend.
ISILIEN: Thank you all for your help with this.
GARROSH: No problem, Isilien.
LIADRIN: Our pleasure, Isilien. Also, if I might offer a word of advice for after you’re finished here?
ISILIEN: Yes?
LIADRIN: Everything that’s happened in this room…it should stay in this room. Don’t spread word of what you’ve done – or what happened with Mograine’s crystal – to anyone.
ISILIEN: I know how to be discreet, so no concerns there.
GARROSH: Yeah, but at the same time, you also seem to like to bring people in for help. You want to be careful even about your allies.
DOAN: See, I keep telling you you’re too trusting.
GARROSH: I’m just saying, you need to keep your guard up about this stuff. I mean, even if someone looks trustworthy, you can’t just take them at face value. I’ve had my own…dealings…with the undead. They’re not all slobbering zombies stumbling around groaning about brains. You never know who you’re really dealing with, no matter how things look on the surface.
ISILIEN: <eyes growing wide> You…you’re right. The undead could be anyone – we can’t trust anyone outside our own circle…
GARROSH: Anyway! Let’s get Edwin back to his room. Night, guys.
PATRICK: I’ll come check on you later, Edwin.
LIADRIN: Goodbye, all.
EDWIN: Thanks, Patrick. Night.
Garrosh, Edwin, and Liadrin leave the room, close the door behind them, and walk down the hall toward their rooms.
GARROSH: So what’s the verdict about the crystal?
LIADRIN: When I was holding it, it felt exactly the same as when I felt M’uru restoring the Sunwell. That confirms what I already suspected – I think Mograine’s crystal is the spark of a dying naaru.
GARROSH: So you mean the Ashbringer is actually made out of…naaru essence? Crap, no wonder the thing’s so powerful.
EDWIN: Why did it seem to gravitate toward you?
LIADRIN: I’m probably the only person it’s encountered who’s been touched by another of the naaru. M’uru, A’dal… It changes you. I imagine the spark could sense it, maybe even perceived it as kinship.
GARROSH: Well aren’t you special.
LIADRIN: I rather am, actually.
EDWIN: And so, given all of its naaru-driven holy energy, I imagine that fragment knocked me on my ass because I’m… <glancing around to either side as they near their own doors> Well, you know… <holds his arms in an exaggerated marching-zombie pose>
LIADRIN: You are and you aren’t.
EDWIN: How do you mean?
LIADRIN: I mean that yes, the energy rendered you unconscious because of your…normal state. But that’s more of a…it’s hard to explain. Hold on.
Liadrin opens the door to one of the rooms, leads them in, and closes the door behind them.
Look at it this way. When we came through the time portal, we all took on human appearances. But it wasn’t as simple as a glamour or illusion spell. If one of us were injured and went to a doctor, the doctor would be able to examine us, work on us the same as anyone else. They wouldn’t be reaching through some surface illusion and finding an elvish or orich or Forsaken body underneath. Likewise if one of us died, we wouldn’t just revert back to our normal appearances. As long as we’re here in this time, we literally are human.
GARROSH: You’re TRYING to make me sick, aren’t you?
EDWIN: Huh. Interesting. But if that’s the case, I don’t see why the crystal would affect me at all.
LIADRIN: That’s the tricky part. We’re all still carrying vestiges of our old selves, sort of a shadow or overlay of who we normally are. In a sense both our forms still exist, overlapping in the same space, with our current state toggled onto this one on a quantum level, and…
GARROSH: Okay, okay, let’s just say we’re human with a little drop of whatever else before you make my brain go on strike.
LIADRIN: You’re just lucky it was merely the smaller fragment. If you’d touched the main crystal itself it could very well have still killed you, even in this form.
EDWIN: Ouch.
GARROSH: That could have been awkward.
EDWIN: Yes, I would hate to have an awkward death.
GARROSH: I just mean explaining it. Like to your brother.
LIADRIN: I did the best I could just to cover for what did happen.
EDWIN: Okay, well, let’s just drop it. I’ve already had enough real deaths to dwell on, without obsessing on the near deaths too.
So while we’ve been back here in our rooms, Patrick has been staying with Isilien and Doan trying to get their gadget assembled. The good news is that once it’s done, we don’t have to worry too much about tracking it down – we pretty much know that they’re going to plant it somewhere under the inn, which means the cellar, so once Isilien has had time to set it up, we can just get down there, take our readings, and high-tail it out of here.
Which, by the way, we can DO now, because while we were in our meeting, Mokvar managed to catch Tirion’s kid up in the lounge, got him playing with the frog formerly known as Faranell, and got the kid to agree to a trade for the shard. Want to hear the funny part, by the way? I got a kick out of this. I guess when Mokvar first offered to trade with him for the frog, he started out by asking Taelan for the toy warhammer he’s always carrying around, and then let the kid talk him down to the shard. I guess Mokvar figured if he came right out of the gate asking for the shard, the little snot-nose would be less likely to give it up.
Ideally I would have rather had the shard while we were in Isilien’s room, of course, but at this point it’s not worth running back in there and getting everybody’s guard up. My guess is that they’re going to have the reliquary ready by the end of the night, tomorrow morning at the latest, and at that point we should be good to go.
It’s not easy being hexed
So credit where it’s due. Mokvar came up with a winner of an idea to kill two birds with one stone. Check this out: the reason he wanted The Noz and Chromie and what’s-her-face to enhance his hex spell is so he could use it on the YOUNG version of Faranell! Now I know what you’re thinking – what the hell good does THAT do? Well stay with me.
Liadrin stayed downstairs in the common room to watch for the Faranell brothers. While she was there she got into a little small talk with Kelly, did a little smoothing over after our…um…incident. You know, checking on how he was feeling since he seemed tired and delusional and shit, and reassuring him he didn’t have to worry about any livestock issues with us. Our Faranell remembered that he and his brother had been out walking earlier in the day, and he gave us a ballpark figure on when they would be getting back. More importantly, he remembered a window we would have to make our move.
Edwin and Patrick – the Faranells of this time period – came wandering into the inn right on schedule, and as they were making their way to the stairs, Kelly called to Patrick that a letter had been delivered for him. Patrick went over to the counter to pick it up, and while he was reading the letter, Edwin stood around waiting for him at the base of the stairs.
That was our chance. Mokvar had been waiting at the top of the stairs, and once Edwin was in position, Mokvar ran down to the first landing. While Patrick was too busy going over his letter to pay attention to anything else, Mokvar got off his hex on Edwin, and POOF, frog.
As soon as the hex was cast, OUR Edwin ran down the stairs to step in where his younger self had been standing. Mokvar and I both scrambled around like idiots trying to catch frog-Edwin, but after a few seconds, Patrick finished with his letter and looked back over our way, so Mokvar and Faranell started making like they were having a conversation at the base of the stairs, while I grabbed the frog and ran upstairs.
All of this was pretty much according to plan. Mokvar had a brainstorm on a couple of levels with this scheme: first of all, if we keep younger Edwin hexed, and sub in our Edwin, that makes the problem of him accidentally crossing paths with himself way easier to keep under control. And since older Edwin remembers everything he was supposed to have done and said right now – what with his supposed super-memory – he can just fill in for himself. In the process, we free ourselves up a LOT to come and go as we need to, without worrying about running into Kel’Thuzad or Helcular on the one side or the Faranell brothers on the other. And so we decided right off the top that once we made the switch, Edwin would introduce Mokvar to his brother as an old friend from Brill, just like he did with Kel’Thuzad, so we don’t have to be looking over our shoulders or juggling multiple cover stories. Granted, Patrick had already met Mokvar once by this point, but that’s easy enough to play off as coincidence.
So as soon as Patrick spotted Mokvar “chatting” with his brother, they had their “oh hey, you know this guy too?” exchange, they all got to talking, and Mokvar “recognized” Liadrin and brought her in, so now everybody knows everybody mostly and we can stop fucking tiptoeing around like a teenager getting home three hours past curfew and sneaking a rebellious draenei girl into his room past his lightly sleeping Greatmother parents. I mean who hasn’t been there, amirite?
So stop staring at me like that and just read the damn transcript.
LIADRIN: So…Edwin – Edwin, isn’t it? – where did you say you were from? Andorhal?
EDWIN: No, that was Patrick. I mean, Patrick’s the one from Andorhal, but yes, I’m Edwin. I live up in Dalaran.
LIADRIN: Ahh, it must be beautiful there.
PATRICK: Have you ever been?
LIADRIN: Not for quite some time.
PATRICK: It’s definitely worth a visit if you get the chance.
LIADRIN: So what brings you two down here? I would think you’d have much more interesting things to do in Dalaran.
EDWIN: Well, it’s nice to have a change of pace sometimes…
PATRICK: In my case, I wanted to come visit Edwin for a bit before I head off to study in Silvermoon.
MOKVAR: Ah okay.
LIADRIN: I see. What are you going to be studying?
PATRICK: Alchemy, same as Edwin here.
EDWIN: Well, except for how you’ve always been much better at it.
PATRICK: Mostly alchemy, at least. I’d like to work some more on the sciences in general.
Kelly brings several plates of food to the table. Edwin starts in eating immediately, looking at a few bites thoughtfully while still holding them on his fork.
LIADRIN: Thank you, Mr. Kelly.
MOKVAR: Thanks.
EDWIN: So, Patrick…
PATRICK: Mmhmm?
Edwin stares at his food a moment before continuing haltingly.
EDWIN: Who was…well…what was that letter you got?
PATRICK: Oh, that? Just an update from Emily. Good news. She just arrived and she’s getting settled in.
LIADRIN: Emily?
EDWIN: <gesturing to Liadrin matter-of-factly without looking up> Patrick’s wife.
LIADRIN: Oh, I didn’t know you were married.
MOKVAR: Condolences.
LIADRIN: Mokv—Movarius.
PATRICK: <nodding> Almost two years now.
LIADRIN: You said she’s getting settled in – I assume she’s gone on ahead to Silvermoon?
Edwin shakes his head while poking at his food.
PATRICK: Oh, no, she isn’t coming to Silvermoon too. It’s just me going there.
LIADRIN: Oh? Why is that?
PATRICK: Well, housing in Silvermoon isn’t cheap, especially for outsiders, and graduate students aren’t exactly rolling in money.
MOKVAR: You’re going to be getting a doctorate, right?
PATRICK: Cross fingers.
EDWIN: You know you’ll be running the place within a semester, professor.
PATRICK: <chuckles> Whatever you say, uncle. At any rate… Financially the easiest thing will be for me to stay in student housing while I’m there, and that’s not exactly luxurious. So Emily’s going to stay with family while I’m studying.
EDWIN: In Stratholme.
MOKVAR: Stra— Oh. It’s…nice there.
LIADRIN: Yes… I, um, I suppose it’s close enough that you could still visit each other…
EDWIN: I keep telling you, it’s silly to live apart for that long. It’s not like you’re talking about just a couple months.
PATRICK: Yes, yes, I know, how many times to we have to go through this?
LIADRIN: I suppose it’s a fair point. It does mean you’ll be apart for a few years at least.
PATRICK: <shrugs> I’m trying to think of it that this way – I’ll have that much more incentive to stay focused on my work and get finished quickly. No outside distractions, just me and my research, and maybe in the process I can get done faster and start get established.
EDWIN: Fine, don’t listen.
PATRICK: I’d think you’d like the prospect of us stepping up the schedule, uncle.
MOKVAR: Say…maybe I’m missing something, but why do you keep calling him that? He’s your brother, isn’t he?
PATRICK: Well, that’s what our mother keeps saying. I don’t know if I’m convinced. <smirks at Edwin for a moment> Oh come on, smile a little.
EDWIN: <still not looking up> “Uncle” is just this little nickname Patrick’s had for me the last couple years.
PATRICK: Basically as long as Emily and I have been talking about having a family. My dear, morose brother here, kid-hater though he is, seems to like the prospect of being an uncle.
EDWIN: I don’t hate kids. <glances toward the upstairs> Well, I don’t hate most kids.
LIADRIN: Ah… So you were—are planning to have children, then, Patrick…
PATRICK: <nods> Hopefully. Between you, me, and the walls, I’d rather like to have a couple sons. <chuckles, then to Edwin> Don’t let Emily hear that, I think she’d really like a little girl. But I remember how much Dad seemed to enjoy himself with us. Then again, he liked children.
EDWIN: I like children perfectly well. Just other people’s children. I can play with them and be the cool uncle and all of that, and then give them back and be done without having to deal with the crying and the soiling themselves and the stabbing me in my sleep when they’re sixteen.
PATRICK: Hence why you should be happy about me getting done with my degree sooner rather than later, uncle.
MOKVAR: So you’re wanting to hold off on the family until after you’re done with your degree.
PATRICK: It would be kind of crazy to do otherwise, really. If we start having kids while I’m still working, either I’ll end up having a whole slew of new distractions from finishing with school, or I’d end up sticking poor Emily with all the work of taking care of them. That would probably be the death of me.
Edwin cringes a little at the last sentence, which Liadrin seems to notice with concern.
LIADRIN: Well then…I’m sure you know what’s best for you and your wife, Patrick…
PATRICK: It’ll all work out in the end, I’m sure. Anyway, I should write her a quick note back. Shouldn’t you be going to see your Kirin Tor friend anyway, Edwin?
EDWIN: My who?
PATRICK: That fellow from Dalaran you’ve been taking those walks with. Didn’t you say he wanted to talk with you about something else today?
EDWIN: Did he? That doesn’t… I mean, yes, yes I suppose so…
PATRICK: I’ll be upstairs. <stands up> Movarius, good seeing you again… Lia, nice to meet you.
LIADRIN: You as well, Patrick.
MOKVAR: Take it easy, Patrick.
Patrick gives everyone a nod and wanders back up the stairs.
LIADRIN: I’m sorry, Edwin. I know this can’t be easy for you.
EDWIN: Yeah, well…
MOKVAR: I guess we should let you go do whatever you need to do with Kel’Thuzad…
EDWIN: That’s the thing. I shouldn’t be doing anything with him.
LIADRIN: What do you mean?
EDWIN: I remembered talking to Patrick about Emily moving to Stratholme when the letter arrived for him. I remember pretty much every other conversation I had with him the rest of the way. But I don’t remember seeing Kel’Thuzad again from this point.
MOKVAR: Is that just another one of those things you seem to forget about?
EDWIN: No, you’re not getting it. It’s not that I might have seen him and I’ve forgotten. I can remember every single thing I did the rest of the day today, and tomorrow, and the rest of this week. I didn’t go to see Kel’Thuzad. Yesterday was the last time I saw him for…well for weeks, actually. There wasn’t any business about him wanting to see me again.
LIADRIN: That’s…rather troubling.
EDWIN: Nozdormu was right this morning. Something’s going wrong with the timeline. Somehow, something’s already changed because of us being here.
Because my life isn’t delightful enough right now, right?
Meanwhile, while all this happy news was happening, I was bringing frog-Edwin upstairs for the other part of Mokvar’s plan. Here’s where the dude really got thinking outside the box. He had figured, while we have this version of Faranell all frogged up, we can use him to kill two birds with one stone, because what better way to distract a snot-nosed kid from a shiny magic crystal that just sits there looking glowy, than with a real life hoppy potential pet? Not that the little punk is going to KEEP Faranell forever, obviously, but if we give him the frog, Mokvar figures that should keep him distracted long enough for us to find where he has the chameleon shard, or maybe do a trade or something. Anyway, it’s a possible way in without, you know, having to beat up a little kid. Which I still say Chromie seemed a little creepy eager to do, gotta tell you.
So anyway, I brought the frog upstairs to see if we could do the switch, only Taelan was actually off in one of the rooms with Tirion. So no opening to make the move there. We’ll have to keep an eye out and try to jump in when we get the chance. Probably will assign Mokvar to this job, since he can refresh the hex every so often if he needs to. In the meantime, Faranell and Liadrin and I can be getting set for Isilien tonight. With any luck things will start falling in our direction. Not that we’ve had much luck so far, but at this point you have to figure the law of averages is starting to owe us.
Past imperfect
So we finally have things in motion to find out just what Isilien and Doan wind up doing with the light crystal. We’re hoping we can stay close to whatever we’re doing, and then get a read on whatever kind of magic they end up using the create the anti-plague effect. To that end, we brought a special magic component – something called a chameleon shard. When it’s put in close proximity to a magically-charged object or field, it attunes itself to it and basically recreates the magic properties inside its own…crystalline…matrix, I think it is? Anyway, point is, it sucks up a carbon copy of the magic close to it and locks it up so we can take it with us without it going kablooey, and once we have THAT done at the original, untriggered source of this thing, we should be able to use it to create a counter-effect.
Which leads us to the latest meeting of the minds from this morning…
MOKVAR: So what’s the game plan for tonight?
GARROSH: Isilien said we should pay him a visit after dark tonight. By that point, with any luck, he’ll have finished whatever he’s been working on with Doan, and we can get a look at the end results.
MOKVAR: What if it’s still a work in progress?
GARROSH: Well, then I guess we get to follow the ongoing work.
FARANELL: That could end up being helpful in itself. Depending on just what they’re doing, watching them actually formulating it might make it easier to determine a way to counter it.
MOKVAR: One thing, though. If you’re there, and they’re still working on it, won’t they want you guys to help them with it?
GARROSH: Probably.
MOKVAR: Won’t that be a problem? I mean, I’m guessing we weren’t supposed to create the problem we came back in time to try to solve.
LIADRIN: Maybe. Maybe not. For all we know, we were always part of the creation of this thing.
GARROSH: Either way, we can try to keep our help to a minimum, at least.
LIADRIN: It shouldn’t be terribly difficult to create the appearance of helping without interfering too much. Just listen to what they’re already thinking, then nudge them further in that direction without really feeding them any ideas they wouldn’t have come to regardless.
GARROSH: Also, Mokvar, I’m going to have you stay back for this one. You and Utvoch wait here in the room, or hang out downstairs if it looks clear, but I’m just going to go with Liadrin and Faranell, since they’re the ones who really need to check on this thing up close.
MOKVAR: Whatever you say, chief.
LIADRIN: Is there anything else we need to have in place before we go?
GARROSH: The only other thing is having the chameleon shard ready, in case they manage to get their little doohickey completely done tonight.
FARANELL: You’ve been holding it, haven’t you, Utvoch? I should probably give it a few arcane charges before we go, to have it warmed up just in case.
UTVOCH: Yeah, I’ve got it here.
Utvoch sets down his pack and starts digging through it.
MOKVAR: Say, Garrosh, I just realized, are you sure you don’t want me coming tonight to take notes?
GARROSH: <shakes head> Isilien was already less than thrilled about bringing in more people, and Doan didn’t seem like he’s going to be very friendly. I don’t want to push my luck inviting more people than necessary to the party, much less setting off any bells by having someone hanging around writing down everything everyone says.
MOKVAR: Yeah, true. I was just thinking this might be the part of the trip where we’d especially like to keep a record of things.
LIADRIN: I can always write it up after we’re done, as well. I do agree it’s to our benefit to record as much of this as possible, especially in case we need to keep our stories straight for timeline purposes.
FARANELL: I can help with that when you’re working on it. I have an eidetic memory, so I should be able to cover most of what ends up being said.
UTVOCH: <still rifling around in his pack> Wait, you dead what?
FARANELL: No, eidetic.
LIADRIN: It means a photographic memory.
UTVOCH: Oh. What’s photographic?
GARROSH: Hold on. You have an eidetic memory?
FARANELL: Yeah. I was tested for it as a kid and everything. <chuckles> Only reason Patrick didn’t wind up three grades ahead of me.
GARROSH: So can I ask you something?
FARANELL: Yes?
GARROSH: If you’re supposed to have this uber-memory, how come you’re always forgetting shit?
MOKVAR: You do seem pretty forgetful sometimes.
FARANELL: I don’t know why people keep saying that.
GARROSH: Because it’s true?
FARANELL: I’ll have you know, I can recite back to you every book I’ve read in the last five years.
LIADRIN: Well, it might just be that he has excellent recall of specific sights and sounds, or language? But broader events slip his memory sometimes?
FARANELL: “Our first day went as well as one can expect first days to go. Most of our time was preoccupied with making the necessary arrangements to establish a base camp. I located an ideal setting by a freshwater river inlet. Judging by the old, abandoned docks nearby, this site was inhabited sometime ago. As for the original inhabitants, only time can tell that tale.” Just saying.
GARROSH: Okay, fine, you have a perfect memory except for when you don’t. Go ahead and help Liadrin with the recordkeeping if it makes you happy.
UTVOCH: So, um, guys? I think we have a problem.
MOKVAR: Oh no.
FARANELL: Here we go.
GARROSH: What is it?
UTVOCH: Well, um…I don’t think the shard is here.
LIADRIN: That’s kind of bad.
GARROSH: What. Do you mean. The shard. Isn’t HERE?
UTVOCH: I don’t know, I was keeping it in my pack, only it’s not here now…
FARANELL: Let me see that.
Faranell grabs the pack from Utvoch and starts sifting through its contents, tossing assorted pieces of junk onto the floor.
GARROSH: Fucking hell, Utvoch, you had ONE FUCKING JOB on this trip…
FARANELL: Nope…nope… No – for goodness’ sake, man, how many comic books do you need?
LIADRIN: Could someone have gotten to it while you were away from the room or some such?
UTVOCH: No, it’s been in that pack since we got here, and I’ve kept the pack with me the entire time.
MOKVAR: You’re sure you didn’t leave it alone around someone?
UTVOCH: Of course I didn’t, what do you think I’m stupid or something?
Everyone looks around at each other for a moment.
GARROSH: You know what? Any other time that would have been really funny, but right now I’m not in the fucking mood.
FARANELL: <handing the pack brusquely back to Utvoch> Well, that settles it. It’s definitely not here.
UTVOCH: <looking through pack again> Hey, I had a Nutterbar in here that’s gone, too.
MOKVAR: Utvoch, nobody cares about your stupid candy bar.
GARROSH: Hang on.
LIADRIN: Oh no.
GARROSH: Utvoch, you’re SURE you’ve kept that pack with you the whole time we’ve been in Southshore?
UTVOCH: Positive.
GARROSH: <rubbing his head> Yeah… So…
FARANELL: Oh…no.
GARROSH: Shiny, gimmicky-looking crystal, AND a candy bar missing, AND he’s been spending almost all his time doing what…?
LIADRIN: <sighs> By the Light, Utvoch…
UTVOCH: Spending all my time…? Oh CRAP, you think the kid took it?
GARROSH: Tirion’s brat is the only person you’ve been around for any length of time since we’ve been here. Unless you think THRALL made off with it?
UTVOCH: Do you think Thrall would have taken—OWW!
MOKVAR: Hey, um, why is there all this smoke in here all of sudden?
GARROSH: Of COURSE Thrall wouldn’t have taken it!
LIADRIN: There isn’t something burning, is there?
FARANELL: No, this isn’t ffrroomm aa ffiirree.
MOKVAR: Wwhhyy aarree yyoouu ttaallkkiinngg ssoo ssllooww—oohh, nneevveerr mmiinndd…
GARROSH: OOhh bbooyyy. HHHeeerrreee wwweee gggooo aaagggaaaiiinnn….
The smoke thickens as Soridormi and Chromie teleport into the room, flanking the door. A few seconds later, Nozdormu strolls pimps [Word choice revised at the Warchief’s insistence. –Mkvr., ed.] into the room in slow motion.
NOZDORMU: Greetings, Warchief.
CHROMIE: Hiya, guys!
GARROSH: Hey— <waves his hand around in front of his face for a moment to see if it’s moving at normal speed> Okay, that’s better. Hey Noz.
MOKVAR: Is that really necessary?
NOZDORMU: Is what really necessary?
Soridormi, standing behind Nozdormu, shakes her head vigorously while waving one hand side to side.
MOKVAR: Never mind.
CHROMIE: <giggles>
GARROSH: So I’m guessing this isn’t just a social call.
NOZDORMU: Indeed, Warchief.
SORIDORMI: We’re concerned that something may be amiss with your mission.
FARANELL: Oh, you have no idea.
NOZDORMU: I’ve detected a disturbance in the timeline, located roughly around this point. At this stage it’s difficult for me to pinpoint its origin exactly; whatever the key events are, I suspect they’re still in their early stages of unfolding, and without my Aspect powers I find my ability to see through the cracks in the timeline more limited than they were. Nevertheless, something in the proper progression of these events has been disrupted.
MOKVAR: Yeah, um…
GARROSH: About that.
FARANELL: Really? So we traveled back ten years, got a bunch of Alliance from the future killed in the past, there’s two copies of me running around within like ten yards of each other, we’ve dropped a highly sensitive and powerful magical attunement device into the hands of a kid who’s going to grow up to be a xenophobic nutjob—
CHROMIE: You really want to get that back pronto, by the way.
FARANELL: —and now you’re telling us that something has been disrupted in the timeline? Imagine my astonishment.
NOZDORMU: You know, it’s not too late for me to skip back about thirty years and arrange for a certain someone never to have been born.
GARROSH: At the rate this is going, could you get me too on the way back?
MOKVAR: Wouldn’t it be better just to erase Utvoch?
GARROSH: You know what? Good call. Let’s go with that instead.
UTVOCH: Wait, what? He’s going to do what to me?
GARROSH: Shouldn’t you be busy right now THINKING ABOUT WHAT YOU’VE DONE?
UTVOCH: Sorry, sir.
NOZDORMU: At…any rate.
SORIDORMI: I wish we could give you more specific information, but unfortunately…
NOZDORMU: All I can really tell you is that something is amiss, but still very much in flux. You need to take extreme care not to cause any further disturbances in the events of this time, and get back to your own time as quickly as possible.
FARANELL: So, in other words, don’t mess up. Thanks, that helps a lot.
NOZDORMU: Or I could fast-forward you up to the day of your death. That could work too, you know.
FARANELL: Already been there, actually.
NOZDORMU: Would you like a return trip?
SORIDORMI: <giving Nozdormu a gentle tug on the shoulder> We…know this is a hectic and confusing time for you all. We simply mean to impress upon you the importance of the utmost caution.
GARROSH: Believe me, nobody wants to find the source of that anti-plague thing and get out of here without a fuss more than me.
LIADRIN: And by the looks of it, I’d say we’re not far off.
UTVOCH: Can I ask a stupid question?
GARROSH: Like nobody I’ve ever met.
UTVOCH: Huh?
GARROSH: Never mind. Ask.
UTVOCH: Well okay, you guys are going to try to see what caused that thing that’s killing the undead, right?
GARROSH: Only a week in and you’ve already pieced that together, huh? You’re getting sharp on me.
FARANELL: In other words, yes.
UTVOCH: Well then, begging your pardon, Warchief, not to question your great and imperious judgment, but while we’re here, couldn’t we just stop those guys from doing it in the first place?
LIADRIN, NOZDORMU, and SORIDORMI: <overlapping> No.
UTVOCH: Oh. Why not?
LIADRIN: Paradoxes.
UTVOCH: Wait, parrot oxes? You mean we’ll create some weird new animal or something?
CHROMIE: Oi, this one’s a shitake mushroom for brains…
UTVOCH: Actually, you know, parrot oxes could be kind of cool…
LIADRIN: No. Paradoxes. If we prevent the anti-plague from being created in the past, when we get to the future, the anti-plague won’t exist, but then there won’t be a reason for us to come to the past anymore, so we won’t, so then the anti-plague will be created, and so forth, in an endless self-canceling loop.
CHROMIE: See, see, I told you I liked her!
UTVOCH: …So you could have the parrot oxes plowing the fields, but while they’re doing that they could talk, and that would probably make the work go faster since I bet working in the fields for hours gets pretty boring, and—
Utvoch finds himself unable to finish his sentence, as his train of thought is interrupted by his unplanned transformation into a sheep.
FARANELL: Okay. That’s enough from him.
LIADRIN: Ha! You polymorphed him?
GARROSH: Dude, that’s…that’s just…I don’t even have a word for how much awesome that is.
UTVOCH: <bleats>
MOKVAR: Hmm, you know, that’s giving me an idea…
NOZDORMU: At this point I suppose we should leave you to your work…
CHROMIE: You definitely want to work on getting that shard thingy back fast.
LIADRIN: I would imagine Tirion would be a fairly strict father. I suppose if we told him we think his son might have stolen something, he would—
GARROSH: Maybe make the kid give it back, yeah, and maybe ask “Oh, so what is this thing my kid swiped? Oh, a magical shard, what for?” And maybe ask Doan about it, who almost definitely is going to know his chameleon shards. And maybe Tirion gets curious about what these people hanging out with Isilien have one of THOSE for…
LIADRIN: Hmm, true, probably too risky, I suppose…
CHROMIE: Oh feldercarb, you people need to stop dancing around it! Just grab the kid and steal it back! What’s he going to do, stop you? He’s a kid!
UTVOCH: <bleats>
FARANELL: Well, to be fair, he could call his fairly powerful, well-connected paladin dad, who we absolutely can’t harm while we’re here, so…
CHROMIE: Fine, fine, so you just keep him incapacitated while you steal it! You can…well jiminy, Faranell could sheep him just like Utvoch…
UTVOCH: <bleats>
CHROMIE: Or you could hex him, or, I don’t care, Throwdown or Repentance, or… flipping flux capacitor, you’ve got a room full of crowd control here, do you really need me drawing a diagram for you guys?
GARROSH: Wow, you’ve REALLY got a yen for us to mug this kid, don’t you?
CHROMIE: Hey, do you want your thingymabob back or not?
MOKVAR: Actually, along those lines, I was thinking… Since you all have powers over time, would it be possible for you to give one of us…well, a buff, I suppose. To prolong the duration of a spell like polymorph?
CHROMIE: Huh… What do you think, skipper?
NOZDORMU: It would be simple enough, though such an enhancement would have to have a very limited number of charges…
FARANELL: You’re thinking you’d want me to hit Taelan with a super-polymorph?
MOKVAR: Actually I was thinking more of my hex. What I had in mind—
The door to the room swings open and Kelly the innkeeper barges in.
KELLY: Hey, what’s going on up here? I’m hearing all kinds of noise down in the… <looks down at Utvoch the sheep> …lobby…
GARROSH: Oh, hey, um…
LIADRIN: There’s…a very simple explanation for that.
FARANELL: Yes, there is, although regrettably it reflects rather poorly on all of us…
UTVOCH: <bleats>
KELLY: What the blazes are you people doing with a sheep up here? We don’t… <glances over and notices Nozdormu and Soridormi> …High elves? Gracious, we haven’t seen high elves in Southshore in I don’t know how long. I didn’t think you went slumming far beyond Dalaran…
SORIDORMI: Yes, well…
GARROSH: Um, yeah, I can explain them, too.
NOZDORMU: You can?
SORIDORMI: He can.
NOZDORMU: I hope so.
KELLY: I’m listening.
GARROSH: Look… Mr. Kelly… I’m going to level with you. Clearly you, um, you’re an observant guy, so you must be aware that there’s a lot of strange business going on around here these days.
KELLY: Mostly since you lot turned up, yes.
GARROSH: Right. Well. Um, yes, that’s why we’re here, you see. My people and I are…um…special investigators sent by the king. We have a…a number of leads concerning some suspicious activities leading us to Southshore, and me and my fellow royal investigators are here to…um…investigate. Royally.
FARANELL: <aside to Garrosh> Smooth.
KELLY: The king sent… Wait, which king?
GARROSH: Which king? Oh, well… <aside to Liadrin> Who’s the king now?
LIADRIN: <aside> Of which kingdom?
GARROSH: <aside, hissing> Just GIVE ME A FUCKING NAME!
LIADRIN: Terenas!
GARROSH: Terenas! Yes, yes, good old King Terenas!
KELLY: Ahh, all right, so you’re sent from here in Lordaeron. For a minute, as strange as you were acting, I thought you might have been sent from Stormwind or some such damn thing.
GARROSH: Oh no, no, we’re definitely looking out for dear old Lordaeron.
KELLY: A good thing, too, as I was going to have words for you if you said you’d been sent by that hot-headed damn brat of a king they have down there!
GARROSH: Wait, brat…? You mean Varian?
KELLY: Yessir! Fuck that Varian, if you ladies will pardon my language!
GARROSH: Oh HELL yes! I KNEW I liked you, Kelly! I’ll be sure to give a fine report on you to good old Tyranus.
LIADRIN: Terenas.
GARROSH: Whoever the fuck he is!
KELLY: Well hold on now.
GARROSH: Hmm?
KELLY: First of all, you say you’re royal investigators, and that sounds all well and good, but how do I know you’re telling the truth?
GARROSH: I…have an honest face?
KELLY: Lots of liars do! If you’re really sent by the king, you surely must have sort of papers to prove you are who you say you are.
GARROSH: Oh. Right. Where did I put those…um…
Nozdormu and Soridormi exchange a look, Soridormi nods, and Nozdormu sighs briefly.
NOZDORMU: Did you forget…Inspector? You asked me to hold your royal orders.
GARROSH: I did?
NOZDORMU: <glaring> I don’t know, did you?
GARROSH: OH RIGHT. I did. Yes. You have the documents on you, then?
NOZDORMU: <handing Garrosh some papers> Here you are, Inspector.
GARROSH: Uh, but these are blank—
SORIDORMI: I’m sure, Inspector, if you let good Mr. Kelly here review the documents, he’ll find everything is in order…
GARROSH: Right, right, sure…
Garrosh hands the papers to Kelly, who flips through them for a moment.
KELLY: Well, you’re right…I would know Terenas’ seal anywhere… I suppose you are who you say…
GARROSH: Hell yes! Now if you’ll excuse us, Mr. Kelly—
KELLY: <turning to face Nozdormu, Soridormi, and Chromie> I’m still curious what business high elves have with this investigation of yours, though, Inspector. And…a gnome?
CHROMIE: Hiya!
GARROSH: Ah. Right, well, you see, Mr. Kelly, these are special undercover agents, on loan from Silvermoon and…someplace where there are gnomes. Regrettably. Anyway, these are my top operatives – The Legs, The Noz, and Mrs. Robbin’-Son.
CHROMIE: I hate you.
GARROSH: No you don’t.
KELLY: Huh. I see. Well I suppose that explains that—
Behind Kelly’s back, Utvoch’s polymorph wears off and he poofs back into his human appearance.
UTVOCH: The hell was—
Liadrin slaps a hand over Utvoch’s mouth, and she and Faranell pull him back to stand with them.
LIADRIN: Ssshhh!!
KELLY: —but you still haven’t accounted for having a damned sheep in your room!
LIADRIN: What sheep?
FARANELL: I don’t see a sheep.
UTVOCH: Did you guys not see—OWW!!
KELLY: <looking around> It was right here when I first came in.
GARROSH: Are you sure?
MOKVAR: I don’t remember there being a sheep in here.
FARANELL: I’m pretty sure I would have noticed if there were a sheep in my room.
GARROSH: I wouldn’t be much of an inspector if I’d missed something like that.
LIADRIN: Certainly not one of the king’s select agents.
GARROSH: Yep yep. Right hand man of King Terribad, that’s me.
LIADRIN: Actually, it’s Tere—
GARROSH: It’s what his friends call him.
LIADRIN: Of course.
KELLY: Hmm… Well… It must be gone now. Though I haven’t a notion of where it could have gone. I know there was something up here making noises!
LIADRIN: Mr. Kelly, perhaps you should get some rest. I’m concerned that you may be working too hard and starting to imagine things.
KELLY: I’m not imagining things, missy. I’m sure I heard a sheep up in this—
Kelly finds himself unable to finish his sentence, as his assertion is interrupted by his transformation into a sheep.
GARROSH: Well I’ll be damned. He’s right.
LIADRIN: Faranell!
FARANELL: Did you have a way in mind to get him to leave? That didn’t also involve gallons of delightful irony?
GARROSH: Okay, okay, Utvoch, you herd the innkeeper on downstairs real quick, and then we can get back to business.
UTVOCH: Yes, sir.
NOZDORMU: And, for my part, I believe the time has come for me to make my exit. Before I’m forced to witness any more absurdity that I can never unwitness.
GARROSH: Later, Noz.
SORIDORMI: <aside> I don’t know why it surprises you, of all people.
NOZDORMU: <aside> It’s not that it surprises me, it’s just… Ugh, that one in particular.
SORIDORMI: <aside> Well don’t blame me. I didn’t have to find a nice Mag’har girl to get to coincidentally cross paths with Grom…
NOZDORMU: <aside> I know, I know, I thought it would calm him down a bit.
SORIDORMI: <aside> And how did that work out?
So anyway…as much as I’d like to invest some more time in beating some sense (or unconsciousness) into Utvoch, that’s going to have to wait for now. Mokvar seems to have some kind of brainstorm for something we can do, and we’re starting to run short on time, so we’ve got to get things rolling. More soon.
“Why do I have a sudden craving for dandelions?”
Knights of the Silver (withered) Hand
Extra followup from Mokvar after he’d gotten back from his dinner break. Faranell’s brother apparently had just met Tirion and the rest last night – he was eating alone at the next table over, so Tirion invited him to come join him, Isilien, and Abbendis. Probably so he could have one more person to yammer on to. Anyway, Mokvar says Tirion and Isilien both seemed to take a liking to Faranell the Younger…erm…Younger and Other… Okay fuck it, hang on.
Okay. Just checked with Fara— OUR Faranell. So the brother’s name is Patrick. Whereas HIS name is Edwin. Yeah, I know, right? I would be a last-name guy too. Anyway, though, that should make this easier.
So as I was saying, Tirion and Isilien seemed to hit it off well with Patrick, especially Isilien. Abbendis seemed a lot more standoffish, with Patrick AND with Mokvar, who ended up sitting with them for a few minutes while they were finishing eating. Related side note – thank GOODNESS Utvoch mostly kept his distance at the bar. A rare moment of sense.
Although…he didn’t waste too much time returning to character once he an Mokvar came back upstairs…
MOKVAR: Hey, did you all know that that guy downstairs is Faranell’s brother?
GARROSH: Yeah, it’s his younger brother, sort of a boy genius in alchemy.
LIADRIN: He’s paying the Faranell of this time a call on his way to study in Silvermoon, where he’s fated to meet his end during the Scourge invasion.
MOKVAR: So…I missed a meeting.
UTVOCH: Holy crap, Faranell, did you know about this too?
MOKVAR: Sorry, Faranell, about how long…wait. <stares at Utvoch>
FARANELL: …
GARROSH: …
LIADRIN: That’s…remarkable.
FARANELL: Um, Utvoch…
UTVOCH: Yeah?
FARANELL: Let me make sure I’m following you correctly here.
UTVOCH: Okay.
GARROSH: Personally I think you’re just pulling the bandage off slowly now, but it’s your call…
FARANELL: You’re asking me if I knew that the man downstairs, who is my brother, is my brother?
UTVOCH: Um, yeah, I guess.
FARANELL: <blinks>
GARROSH: They weren’t frigging separated at birth, fuckwit.
LIADRIN: Utvoch?
UTVOCH: Yeah?
LIADRIN: Go play with the child.
UTVOCH: Oh, okay. <thinks> Wait, it’s pretty late, he’s probably asleep—
LIADRIN: Go check for him.
UTVOCH: Um, okay. What if he’s not th—
LIADRIN: Then check some more.
UTVOCH: Yes ma’am.
Utvoch leaves.
FARANELL: See, you’re starting to fit right in.
She’s actually really good at dealing with stupidity. I might have to see if can lure her away from Silvermoon to come work with me more often. Maybe offer her a promotion or something, although I don’t know how much she would groove on a job other than being head honcho of the paladins up there. Pansy-ass fuckers though they are. Eh. Still might be worth a try.
So anyway, that was last night.
Today, Liadrin and I spent most of the afternoon camping out downstairs watching for the Silver Hand people to do their thing. Finally as we were getting late into the afternoon, the full cast of characters turned up and gathered around one table near the fireplace. Liadrin and I watched as closely as we could without being too obvious about it, but from where we were standing we couldn’t hear much that they were saying, other than a few words here and there. Luckily we already knew from future-Tirion the basics of the meeting.
Mograine was pretty clearly running the show most of the way, and after a bit, while the rest of the group tried to huddle around to conceal what was going on (successfully? not so much), he did the big unveiling and brought out the dark crystal that Tirion had told us about. I couldn’t see it clearly the whole time, but every time I was able to get a clear line on it, there was just something… uneasy about even looking at it. Liadrin seemed even more disturbed by it than I was – or maybe just intrigued. Either way, at that point she wasn’t making much of an effort to hide the fact that she was staring at the thing.
At one point, Mograin took off one of his gloves and showed the others his hand – it was withered and skeletal, exactly like the undead look, only in his case it was just his hand rather than his whole body. Tirion mentioned Mograine being “scarred” by touching the crystal once, and I’ve seen plenty of disfiguring injuries, but this seemed much more creepy.
Eventually the bunch of them started pouring their holy spells in the crystal, and it started to glow and even hum a little, and then finally it transformed from dark to light, just like Tirion had described. By this point, Liadrin was already in full perked-up mode, but I think her eyes lit up a little extra at that. Mograine touched the crystal, it healed his withered hand with a soft yellow glow, and they all went round and round in whispers – so that’s how it started. The Ashbringer wasn’t made yet, but the idea for it was invented, and in a way that was more important. After they were done, Mograine sealed the crystal in its chest again, then seemed to have a pretty intense discussion about something with Isilien and Doan.
At that point the Faranell brothers wandered into the inn, passed by the Silver Hand bunch, and headed upstairs. Having had a chance to get a closer look at them now, I’m not sure why I didn’t realize on my own that they were related – they’ve definitely got a major family resemblance going, especially around the nose, and, hell, they’ve even got matching cloaks going style-wise, blue for Patrick and gray for Edwin.
Anyway, they were only around for a minute, but I was distracted enough by them being there that I didn’t realize that Liadrin had gone over to the Silver Hand boys and was talking to Isilien, Tirion, and Doan now. I was planning to do any talking we needed to do, but whatever. There goes us getting anywhere through charm. Still, it looked like she ended up winning them over by rolling out a few of those flashy paladin spells – Holy Light or Divine Shield, or Holy Hand of Divinity, or Holy Shock, or Holy Shield, or Shock of Divine Light, or Shield of Divinity, or Holy Hell I’m Shocked You’re Holy or the Holy fucking Hand Grenade or WHATEVER the hell those paladin spells are called. Like seriously, take “holy,” “divine,” “light,” and any other two words you can think of, throw them in a hat, and pull out two, and that’s the name of some ability of theirs. And you wonder why everyone gets so sick of them.
Where was I?
Oh yeah, Liadrin was talking to the Silver Hands. Tirion excused himself and went upstairs, so I decided it was safe for me to go join the discussion. Because honestly, I’ve been trapped in enough tedious conversations with Tirion in my own time, I don’t need to treat myself to any prequels. Anyway, Liadrin and Isilien were hitting it off fairly well by this point, although Doan seemed sort of standoffish, and eventually he excused himself too and left Isilien to talk to us by himself.
The long and the short of it is this. Liadrin was able to convince Isilien the she was a kindred spirit as a paladin, and got him to bring her into the know. Isilien, for his part, is all on board with Mograine’s idea to use the light crystal to create the Ashbringer, but he’s also thinking that the crystal might be a source of power that they could draw on to help defend against the undead in other ways. He’s persuaded Mograine to let him and Doan study it for a day or two – just like the Tirion from our time said – and see if there’s any potential there.
For our part, Lidrain’s convinced Isilien that she and some of her friends, myself included, might be interested in the endeavor. He was wary about bringing too many more people into this, but considering he’s working with limited time, he figures he’s not in a position to turn away help. He’s going to spend the day tomorrow working through some ideas with Doan, but then, tomorrow night, he’s invited us to stop by his room here at the inn to put our heads together. So here we go. Coming down to crunch time. More soon.
[Header image provided by Rioriel from Postcards From Azeroth, reproduced here with permission and many thanks. Click here to see the souped-up Postcard version!]
All roads lead to Southshore
So Tirion’s sugar-high kid, Taelan, has been bouncing around non-stop since he got here with Tirion and the rest of his people, but I can’t help but get a kick out of how things are playing out with him. Utvoch ran into him in this little lounge room they’ve got upstairs, and they got to talking a little, and now the two of them have been hanging out up there playing checkers and just generally hanging out and shit. Which come to think of it, sort of kills two headaches with one stone. I can kind of see why Utvoch would gravitate toward the kid – what with him being here with me, Liadrin, Faranell, and Mokvar, he probably misses having someone like Dontrag to hang with. You know, around his own mental level. A little kid might still be overshooting the mark a little, but it’s probably still a pretty major improvement to him.
So he’s been spending most of his time in the lounge, and that’s mostly been keeping the kid quiet(er) while Tirion’s off going about his own business. All we really have to watch for is Utvoch not having any more run-ins with Kel’Thuzad, but I’m not so worried about that as long as he stays upstairs. Kel’Thuzad’s still been bopping around town, but he and Helcular have mostly just been popping into the inn for meals and the occasional drink, and then going about their business. Faranell tells me that Helcular used to live here in Southshore, so odds are KT is staying with him.
Speaking of Kel’Thuzad, and Helcular…and Tirion…and…well, okay, let’s just say speaking of everyone I mentioned in that last paragraph. Last night, Then-Faranell met Kel’Thuzad and Helcular outside the inn and went wandering off for most of the night. Meanwhile, the guy who had come to Southshore with Then-Faranell spent most of the evening hanging out in the common room downstairs, which somehow or other led to him joining Tirion and his group for dinner and generally acting like buddies. All of this led to THIS little informational exchange with OUR Faranell while I was looking out the window to look for KT and company:
GARROSH: Looks like Kel’Thuzad and the rest are still out by the main road.
FARANELL: They’ll be out there a while. We ended up walking around the outskirts for much of the night. You don’t have to worry about us – well, them – turning up until you see them had out toward the river first.
GARROSH: You’re sure?
FARANELL: Yeah, I remember it.
GARROSH: That’s nice and all, but I still have to check on these things. It’s not like you don’t have a track record of forgetting things, like, oh, I don’t know, say, the fact that you WERE HERE IN SOUTHSHORE IN THE FIRST PLACE.
FARANELL: <rubbing his face with one hand> I’d forgotten a lot of things, yeah…
GARROSH: Well, if we’ve got some time before they’re back in town… Hey, Mokvar?
MOKVAR: Yeah, chief?
GARROSH: You’ve got a window to swing downstairs for some grub and a few drinks if you want. Maybe grab Utvoch on your way, might as well feed him while we’re at it.
MOKVAR: He still with the kid?
GARROSH: Hell if I know. Either there or his room, I guess.
MOKVAR: You sure you don’t need for any more note-taking for now?
LIADRIN: I can take over while you eat.
MOKVAR: You sure?
FARANELL: You’re a scribe?
LIADRIN: I’ve been writing a history of the Sunwell for some months now. There’s been a fair bit of research, interviews with people like Lor’themar Theron…
GARROSH: Who?
LIADRIN: …and so I ended up picking up shorthand pretty quickly to be able to keep notes on it all. I’ve noticed Garrosh likes you to keep a record of everything – surprisingly sensible, all things considered – so I don’t really mind helping give you a breather here and there.
MOKVAR: Yeah, thanks. Have to admit, I’ve been starting to get writer’s cramp something fierce this trip.
LIADRIN: It’s fine. Go take a break.
MOKVAR: Thanks. I’ll see if I can find Utvoch on the way down.
GARROSH: See if you can get a look at what Tirion and the rest are up to while you’re down there.
Mokvar leaves.
GARROSH: Speaking of which… Faranell, who IS that guy who showed up with you? Some friend of yours I’m guessing?
FARANELL: I suppose you could say that.
GARROSH: Well who then? Anybody we should be worried about? Please tell me he’s not another recruit for Kel’Thuzad.
FARANELL: No, nothing like that… He’s my brother.
GARROSH: Seriously? I didn’t know you had a brother.
FARANELL: I don’t anymore.
GARROSH: Oh… What happened?
FARANELL: He died.
GARROSH: Well, yeah. Then again, so did you.
FARANELL: In my case it didn’t take.
LIADRIN: I’m sorry, Faranell. Do you mind if I ask what happened?
FARANELL: I suppose it doesn’t really matter at this point. He studied alchemy like me – honestly, he was quite a bit better at it, certainly much more inventive. Three years younger, but years ahead of me as a scientist. He went to study under the high elves in Silvermoon.
LIADRIN: Oh… Oh no.
FARANELL: You know the funny thing? He always did so well in school that he ended up skipping a few grades and getting a head start on his advanced studies. So if he hadn’t been so smart, he probably wouldn’t even have been in Silvermoon when the Scourge came.
LIADRIN: I’m so sorry, Faranell.
FARANELL: That’s why he’s here now. He’s about to begin his studies, and he’s taking a few days to visit me before he goes. He figured he wouldn’t see very much of me over the next couple of years. Always nose to the grindstone with him.
GARROSH: Do I even want to ask?
FARANELL: I don’t know it at the time, obviously, but this weekend is the last time I ever saw him.
GARROSH: Yeah, there it is… Sorry, man. Look, if this is all hitting too close to home, I totally get it if you feel like you need to tuck away in your room till we’re done here.
FARANELL: No, it’s okay. I came here to a job, so let’s get it done. Make the future safe for the undead.
This just in – Alexandros Mograine finally turned up today, with Doan and Fairbanks in tow. They disappeared to their rooms right off – gotta say, to look at this inn from the outside, you wouldn’t think it had so much guest space up there – and while they’re probably going to be taking some time to settle in and rest from their trip and such, them being here means Liadrin and I are going to be on full-time watch downstairs. Updates to follow.
