Folvelor

Serpenthead ((Semi-closed, PM for more details))

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Folvelor Tastion sat at the Lord Commander's desk, looking over charts and maps, trying to decide the best approach and angle of attack. The guild had met, he had asked for their opinions and he had made his decision. He had asked for volunteers, and nearly every hand in the room had gone up before it was done.

The Sword of the Morning would move on Ulduar in three days' time.

Windstar and Dawnfire were good, but the two would not be able to face the dangers of the titan stronghold alone. The sword was needed, and the sword would fall on its mark.

The light from the near fully-melted candle on the desk started to flicker and reached over to light another from the flame. As the first candle went out, he slid it over to the edge of the desk where many more burnt out candles already sat.

Somewhere out in the city, the cathedral bells sounded three times.

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((Dialogue taken from in-game chatlogs))

Sylennis carefully removed her cloak, wrapping it around Lirese's shoulders as the paladin rested against the pillar.

"Stay warm, huh?" Her voice was nearly a whisper and her face bore an almost alien expression of concern as she watched her partner's face. The half-elf had expended a good bit of energy trying to heal the wounded gryphon, and Syl wasn't sure what kind of toll that might take on her.

"I'll keep watch, just in case we get some extra visitors." The voice of Abel Carter broke the moment slightly. "You two should rest up in the meantime."

Sylennis turned and regarded the delivery man with a curious expression. He was unusually cheery for a man who had just had his gryphon stolen out from under him, apparently only worried mostly for his security deposit. Even more surprisingly, instead of taking his gryphon and leaving, he had offered his services on the pair's mission to Ulduar, even offering to return to Dalaran in the morning to retrieve the packs they'd been forced to leave behind during their hasty escape from the inn. If the whole situation hadn't been so absurd, she might have been more suspicious; but instead, she just found herself amused. Abel was so affable, it was nearly impossible not to accept his offer as genuine.

The rogue turned and settled down next to Lirese against the wall, hands on her knees and regarding the skyline as the paladin drifted into a sleepy rest. Once she was sure Lirese had drifted off, Sylennis rose again, walking over to where the delivery man stood watch.

Even as she knelt beside him, gaze wandering across the jagged peaks that made up the skyscape, her thoughts kept turning back toward Lirese. She frowned. That was happening more and more as time went on, and she sometimes found it hard to focus on the mission now.

"She's asleep." Not that he needed to know, she supposed, but the thought made her feel warm somehow.

"Is she feeling well?"

"She's not used to healing... not her strength. It took a lot out of her."

Abel continued to look off into the distance, scanning the horizon. "Understandable. We all have our limits."

Sylennis sighed and leaned her head back, looking straight up at the sky as her thoughts drifted back and back again to the sleeping paladin nearby. It maddened her that she could not stop thinking of Lirese. Nothing had ever consumed her thoughts quite like this. She didn't know how to stop, how to get her brain back to functioning like it was supposed to. She finally spoke again, softly, not certain whether she was speaking to Abel or herself.

"I'm not sure how she became so important to me..." Sylennis heard the man shift his seat slightly turning toward her. She turned to look at him briefly before turning her gaze back to the sky. "...Not sure why I'm tellin' you... Just... feelin kinda... I dunno... twisted up." She let out an exasperated sigh.

"Well...that's understandable. Some secrets do our hearts no good."

"Ain't that the truth..." Sylennis drew her knees up to her, and rested her chin on them, frowning. "I'm... scared...."

"That's alright ma'am." Abel looked to her with a smile. "It is in fear that we learn to appreciate the things we are scared to lose."

"People I get close to don't meet good ends..." She began the statement but trailed off as she pictured the thought of Lirese meeting the same fate as others had. "But.... I can't... I mean... I don't wanna.... " She growled in frustration and pulled one of her daggers from her belt, jabbing it into the ancient stone on which she sat.

"I don't want anythin' to happen to her..."

"If my father were still here, I would like to imagine he would say something like...'Follow your heart.' He is the best man I know to take advice from. Has yet to steer me wrong at the very least..." Abel smiled, clutching his notebook tightly

Sylennis sighed again, trailing an aimless line across the stone with a finger before taking a wistful look back toward where Lirese was sleeping.

"Miss Wind..." Abel paused briefly, flipping a page open in his notebook and shooting a glance down. "...star. I cannot know what ails you so. But it would do injustice to treat your companion with any less respect and faith than you had before meeting one another."

Syl couldn't help but chuckle at the remark, remembering their first few encounters. "I don't think I could do that... didn't like her much then."

Abel laughed brightly with a shrug. "Who doesn't give their first love a hard time?"

The rogue felt her skin turn very warm, certain she was turning bright red. "Love?" She let out the word sharply, immediately dismissing it with a sharp exhale and a somewhat-nervous laugh "That business is for saps and lonely housewives..."

I ain't in love. People like me don't fall in love.

Right?

"I recall a young woman from my youth, beautiful green eyes and hair like you wouldn't imagine..." The delivery man continued on, either not hearing her comment or choosing to ignore it. "Didn't know how to say I thought her pretty, so I did what any lad my age would do. As it turns out, mud is not such a romantic thing to give."

Sylennis couldn't help but laugh at the comment as the man smiled in thought.

"I wonder if things would be different had things...not gone the way they had." He paused for a moment. "No matter on that I suppose."

"Past is best left buried, I say." Syl found herself nodding in agreement. "Hidden away with all the other useless bullshit."

"I beg pardon, but I will disagree. Our past defines us, and by that very nature is the most important thing in our lives second only to the present."

"What my past defines ain't a nice thing to look at." Syl spat over the edge of the ruin.

"Do you assume then, that mine is? Or anyone for that matter? The difference lies in how we face these truths." He turned to look at her with a warm grin. "Do we say that when faced with the terror of her past, Miss Windstar chose to blink?"

"Some things are too overwhelmin' to face." She frowned. The phantom pain in her left arm returned unbidden, and she winced, rubbing at the spot absentmindedly.

"I dare not judge you ma'am, not without getting better to know you. But I get a sense from your character that when the time comes to face such an event, you will not disappoint." Abel turned his attention back at the horizon, rubbing his hands together for a bit of warmth.

"...what the fuck would you know about it anyway..." Syl's voice was a mutter, almost completely under her breath.

"I've keen ears ma'am, though not as long as yours. A Carter never shies away from any question when properly asked."

Sylennis scowled, pulling out a piece of jerky from her belt pouch, chewing on the end of it and letting it hang out from between her lips.

"I don't back down from a fight... but there's a difference between a direct challenge and stuff that's best left forgotten."

"Apparently, not so forgotten."

The rogue turned and gave him a dirty look. He was right, of course, but that didn't make him less of a bastard in her eyes for pointing it out.

"Damn you, what the hell do you know 'bout such things anyhow?"

"About loss? I know some things." He seemed to consider the question for a moment. "Though, I would imagine everyone experiences loss a little differently."

"Ain't 'bout loss. It's about goddamn fuckin orcs."

"What about orcs?"

"Shoulda wiped the fel-damned things out when we had the chance."

"Ah... Well I can't say too much for orcs, but I'm not so big a fan of Forsaken myself."

"They ain't much better, true."

"Who did you lose to orcs?" The question was asked gently, but Syl still felt a spark of pain.

"Just a little innocent orphan elf girl... nobody important... don't think she was even missed..." She sniffled once, trying not to let it get to her. A gate was opening she dare not let stay open. She collected her knees in front of her, dropping her head into them and looking down at the ground, gritting her teeth. She heard him making some motions beside her, but she dared not look over lest she meet his eyes and lose what tenuous control she still held over her emotions.

"My mother and father lost their son. Though at the time I thought it was the other way around."

The rogue pulled the jerky from her teeth, looking up and holding it in front of her face for a moment before bending it slowly, bit by bit, until it snapped into two pieces.

"You break a thing... it ain't always fixable." She risked a brief look over at the man. "Sometimes it's better left in pieces."

"But is it not interesting ma'am, how the pieces can often be far stronger than the whole?" His expression was a serious, knowing one. "Sometimes, reassembly is not always required."

Syl's eyes widened in genuine surprise at the words, finding herself considering them as the man continued.

"Never once would I suggest moving on from any horror. I would however, recommend discovering that the world is far grander than any single moment of anguish. But I still stand firm by my words earlier. Our past, good or bad, defines us. Cannot go away."

She watched him with only slight surprise, simply raising an eyebrow as he stood and let the worgen curse overtake him, turning his form into that of a hulking wolf.

"Get some rest. I shall take first watch, and tomorrow I will recover your goods from Dalaran."

"Thanks..." The simple phrase was all she could mutter, not sure if she was more or less confused than before.

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((Pieced from ingame chatlogs))

"…did you lose to…"

"…little innocent orphan elf girl…"

"Don't think…..missed…"

A new voice seemed to hover nearby, lightly accented and almost soothing to listen to, "…lost their son…was other way around."

The paladin started to stir quietly, voice penetrating her sleep-fogged mind. She tugged the cloaks tighter around her small frame, a sleepy smile curving her lips briefly as the scent of the rogue wafted upwards just enough to catch it. But her mind was beginning to raise up from the nap she had been granted, as she started catching more of what was being said.

"…Sometimes, reassembly is not always required." a pause. "Never once would I suggest moving on from any horror. I would however, recommend discovering that the world is far grander than any single moment of anguish." the courier spoke again.

Lirese apparently missed a whole conversation that sounded rather thought out as she untangles an arm from her covers to rub at her eyes. What she wouldn't give to be out of the plate armor for the moment. Wind be damned. It was the only good thing about it for the moment. Rubbing her cheek against Syl's cloak another small smile lifted the corners of her mouth, bringing the rogue to mind. She'd give a lot to be curled up in a bed with the night elf at the moment. Even as she thought of her partner, her ears picked up on the conversation again.

"…my words earlier. Our past, good or bad, defines us. Cannot go away." Another pause in which Lir couldn't tell if a gesture was made or not since they were out of her immediate sight. "Get some rest. I shall take first watch, and tomorrow I will recover your goods from Dalaran."

Then the voice changed, becoming deeper, "Keep warm."

Lir blinked, almost not realizing it was still the courier speaking. Curious. Oh well. She'd think about that later. Rubbing at her eyes she looked up in time to see Syl walking towards her, nearly causing a soft sigh to pass her lips. It never failed that her pulse seemed to race the moment she saw the rogue come towards her.

To hell with being embarrassed later, Lirese moved under the cloaks til she could shift her body weight to lean towards her partner. Wordlessly the rogue put an arm around her, pulling her into the crook of an arm, eliciting a soft sigh from the sleepy one. The smile that curved the half-elf's lips was hidden as she snuggled against the quiet one, her own arm circling the rogue. Everything was seeming to be right with the world with the one against her.

For a long time the two sat thus, Syl impassive as ever until looking down at her partner half asleep against her side. Leaning over she places a soft kiss on Lir's forehead, causing the paladin to nuzzle the rogue's cheek, eyes closed.

Lir couldn't be fore sure just how far asleep she was drifting, but her dreams started rising out of the sleep fog. Past memories of being knighted, oaths being given.

"Don't you leave me like the others, ok?" Words were soft, trickling into the paladin's mind as she made her oaths to protect. "Promise…" her oath was bound and soft as Lir sank deeper into sleep, only vaguely aware that the rogue hugged her tighter.

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"I'll be a son of a whore."

In the skies over Ulduar, a few dots appeared on the horizon. They expanded, slowly at first, getting larger until shapes could be made out. Flying mounts, and a large assortment of them.

At first, Sylennis Windstar had thought they had beaten the reavers to the Titan stronghold, but that didn't seem likely. Now, however, her keen eyesight was beginning to make out shapes in the formation: Two familiar pandaren, floating on their mysterious meditative clouds. A flying machine bearing a begoggled gnome. A few gryphons and hippogryphs and one blue dragonhawk - some bearing familiar shapes and some unfamiliar. And at the head of the formation, a very familiar red protodrake with a heavily armored human atop it.

Sylennis watched in some amusement as the shadows passed over her small group, the flying mounts taking to land at the great steps to the stronghold of Ulduar. There was a flurry of activity as the war party dismounted and began to establish a perimeter, old man Folvelor at the center of the activity, pointing and directing as he often did when his commander's instincts took the fore.

Syl turned to her two companions, a wry expression on her face as she gestured over the small hill on which they had been camped out for the last hour or so as they looked for any signs of Reaver activity.

"Well, shit. After all that, the old man still beats us to the punch." Her eyes drifted over Abel with a smile before lingering on Lirese's blue-green eyes for a beat longer than necessary. "Guess we'd better catch up, eh?"

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Lirese moved a few steps closer to the rogue, shading her eyes to look up at the newcomers before looking at her partner, "Were we actually expecting them to show up?" she tilted her head slightly, "I don't remember requesting additional backup." a smirk played at her lips, faintly amused as usual.

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Sylennis shrugged and looked back over her shoulder at the amassing force.

"Not really, but as much as I may dislike the old man personally, I've learned not to discount him in matters of tactics." She was silent for a beat. "Guess he figured Ulduar was a bit of a tackle for just the three of us."

The rogue inclined her head toward the others. "We should probably get a leg on."

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Folvelor was directing people to take up positions on either side of the grand staircase when he spotted the figures approaching quickly from the south: Windstar, Dawnfire, and that delivery man, Carter. Apparently, Lady Serian's information had been accurate on that count. He couldn't help but regard the trio curiously. Some of Windstar's usual directness and intensity seemed missing, and she kept looking over at Dawnfire with an expression he found curious and out of the rogue's character.

What was more in her character, however, was the way she breezed right past most of the Sword forces and walked right up to him.

"How dare you beat me to the punch, old man?" Her expression was more amused than angry. "I had everythin' well under control here."

"Spectacularly, from what I hear." The death knight gave her an almost-grin. "You left quite the bit of chaos in your wake in Dalaran. I've already gotten a bill for damages from the gryphon trainers there."

Sylennis stared daggers at him for a brief moment before waving her hand to change the subject.

"Anyway... don't recognize some of these folk. Where'd you dig 'em up?"

"New recruits to the Sword."

"Duh."

"It's not the best time for introductions." Folvelor sighed in exasperation. "Short version: Sword has voted me into temporary command and we've been trying to boost numbers. Mage there is Rhiandri Etiainen, and the other night elf is a priest... Fhoyle he calls himself."

"Guess that'll do fer now." Syl turned and looked up at the stairs into the titan stronghold. "So we goin' in or what?"

"Just as soon as we get this area secured, yes." He looked back over at the rogue. "Does your, uh... 'team' have anything to add to your report?" He couldn't help but notice the look in the rogue's eye as she turned back toward where Carter and Dawnfire stood. Something was definitely up there, but he couldn't put a finger on what.

"You'd have to ask them." Sylennis shrugged and motioned toward the two.

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Abel Carter looked down at his schedule with a mild frown, knowing that helping others was the more important thing to do didn't make a wasted days planning feel much better. The delivery to Goldshire of non-critical herbs could definitely wait another day or two, and he was certainly ahead of schedule when it came to the war supplies he was running across Arathi. The reservations at that lovely establishment in Dalaran would likely go to waste, but upon retrospect it was far more enjoyable to be dining with company that to be dining alone.

Taking a glance around at the last thought Abel wondered briefly what kind of company he was keeping to begin with. Everyone here seems nice enough, and it was Sir Tastion who had sent him to Dalaran for his delivery to in the first place. Miss Windstar and Dawnfire also were kind enough, but was this an engagement that he really wanted to be a part of? To risk life and limb for an unknown cause, to save the life of a man who he didn't know for people whom he had only just met?

He shook off the thought with a smile, nodding to Windstar as she gestured toward him. Abel made the decision to help when he had retrieved their goods (and his dog) from the magical city; let it not be said that a Carter would ever back down from helping another. He reached down to Smithers for a reassuring pat, taking in the sights of the Titan architecture all around him. This would be quite a long day indeed.

Plus, he still needed that deposit back.

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She followed behind Syl at a more leisurely pace, taking the time to get a good look at the new recruits as she went, pulling her cloak tighter around her against the chill of the wind. Then she caught some of what her partner was saying and had to smirk, muttering, "At least we didn't get hurt..." Though the mention of Dalaran brought a very faint flush to her cheeks, which quickly faded as more talk was had. Her gaze traveled back to Folvelor at the mention of reports and she shook her head. "Nothing more to add sir."

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Folvelor nodded in satisfaction and turned to the rest.

"Alright, we're moving in." He spoke in a loud voice, commanding attention without actually yelling - a skill honed from years of battlefield experience. "Everyone keep your eyes open and your weapons ready. Yogg Saron's influence may have been pushed from this place, but there are lots of old corrupted constructs and other dangers still lurking about inside. The Explorer's League keeps it cordoned off for a reason."

He punctuated the reminder by drawing his runeblade and began to move purposefully up the stairs.

"Let's go find our Lord Commander."

Behind him, Sylennis looked over at Lirese and rolled her eyes before falling in with the rest of the group.

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As soon as they landed, the death knight began ordering them into formation. Fhoyle patted the chin of his blue proto-drake affectionately. "Go visit your land, it has been many a moon since you last played in snow. We will likely be inside for many hours," Fhoyle paused and looked around him, "if not days, so you have time." The drake butted her head gently against his shoulder before lifting off again. Fhoyle watched her fly across the chasm until the snowy winds obscured his view. He turned and joined the others, helping with the last minute preparations.

"Alright, we're moving in."

Fhoyle fell in line with his new companions. As he climbed the ancient stairs, he felt eager and confident, and most importantly, unafraid.

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Wiq Windsweeper flipped his eyepatch up so he could get a good view of the area with both eyes.

This place was a truly wonderous piece of construction. He had never seen the like of it in any of his time on the wandering isle. He looked over to Leling, to see if she was sharing in this sense of awe and wonder, but she appeared to be simply stuffing her face with dumplings again. He shook his head, smiling a bit and dropped back in the formation a bit until he was walking side-by-side with Sylennis.

"It is good to see you well, Operative Windstar."

"You too, fur-face." Sylennis glanced at him briefly with a half-smile before returning her attention to the area below. Always on watch, that one was.

"I must confess that you two had us worried for awhile. Until you turned up in Dalaran, I think the Lord Commander had you halfway written up as a loss." Wiq sighed a bit, and dug into one of his pouches, pulling out two small objects.

"Acting Lord Commander." Sylennis corrected him a little too quickly and he regarded her for a moment. There were many layers to the rogue, and he suspected not many, himself included, knew truly what drove her anymore. Her remark about the Lord Commander, however, was telling. He suspected someone who had lost so many trusted superiors as she had was not quite ready to accept another one. Hopefully, they would find Sir Vaelith and the point could be rendered moot.

"Communicators." He reached out a furry paw to dump the two small objects into the elf's upturned palm. "Courtesy of Giggywig and Philaris."

"Wonderful timing." Syl's response was deadpan. "Good thing we didn't need these before we left for Northrend..."

Wiq simply nodded in apology, noting with some amusement the way Sylennis carefully handed one her partner, fingers lingering slightly longer against Lirese's palm than was necessary.

He smiled to himself and picked up his pace again, moving back up to see if Leling had any dumplings left. If there was to be a battle, he might as well fight on a full stomach.

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A large rumbling sound became audible as the war party made its way down into the titan ruin.

At first, Folvelor thought it might be his imagination, but his face fell a bit as he looked down the straightaway that had once been guarded by the Flame Leviathan weapons platform. Constructs. Dozens of them. Several colossi among them.

"To arms!" He gripped his runeblade and risked a brief glance behind him to make sure the others were doing the same. Damn. He had expected a few scattered dangers, but where had this large force come from? Where the reavers activating things to keep them at bay. Were they too late? "Keep together, watch each others' backs. Charge!"

He raised his blade and charged toward the biggest and meanest looking of the bunch.

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Lir smirked as she tuned in on the conversation that Syl was having with one of the new recruits and chuckled softly as she was handed the communicator. She peered down at it and softly commented, "how did Misha manage to blow something up this small?" Amused blue-green eyes raised to look up at her partner.

But as she tucked it away her gaze roamed around their immediate area, eyeing a few places. It was the rumblings that's made her hand go to the hilt of her sword. Unconsciously she moved her body closer to the rogue's, preparing to have her partner's back.

It was their commander's voice that sent her into an instant defensive stance, her sword unsheathed and naked in her hand.

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As the battle was joined, Sylennis Windstar slipped into her usual combat trance, the feral beast that still dwelled in some small part within her slipping to the surface to guide her movements. Daggers flashed into hands and feet danced across the stone floor as the rogue wove through the constructs with ease.

However, it was different this time.

Instead of slipping off on her own, looking for openings and taking advantage of the most distracted targets, she hung near Lirese, often forgoing an opportunistic kill to stick close to her partner. It was curious, yet somehow instinctual all the same. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Syl was confused by her own shift in tactics. It was not a conscious decision and did not represent her usual sense of self-preservation.

Despite this, the two moved through the enemy ranks with a graceful swiftness, the rogue finding surprise in how she effortlessly anticipated Lirese’s movements, just as it seemed the paladin was anticipating her own. Traded blows here, back-to-back there, they ducked and wove around one another, fighting as if they were a single creature with two bodies.

Even hunting with her adopted sister Lyselia had never been like this.

It was all so utterly alien, and completely familiar at the same time. The bodies of constructs piled in their wake as the two moved through the enemy lines, falling lifeless as stone, the animating magic gone from them. The rogue’s daggers moved so fast they were a blur; the paladin’s sword swung so gracefully it seemed to move independently of her hands. It was a curious form of intimacy to fight alongside someone like this, and it made Syl feel even closer to her partner than she already did.

…And then they were through.

Sylennis breathed heavily, her body still coursing with adrenaline, looking back to where the rest of the guild still fought with the constructs, holding their own, but still some effort away from breaking the lines. From this position, the pair could easily turn the tables on the construct lines, bringing the fight to a quick close.

She was about to move back toward the thickest part of the enemy formation when her eye caught movement further down the concourse. Figures. Humanoid. Flesh and blood instead of animated stone. And they were slipping down a small hidden side passage.

It had to be the Reavers.

The last of them were already slipping through, starting to seal the wall behind them. Another second and they would be gone and it might take hours to locate the spot again once she lost sight of it.

Her decision was quick and measured. The Sword could hold its own in a fight, but the constructs were clearly meant to be a distraction; a distraction from what might be their only chance to stay on the Reavers’ tails.

Sylennis put a hand on Lirese’s shoulder, gently turning the paladin so she could see where the rogue was looking. Syl caught the half-elf’s nod out of the corner of her eye and they sprinted for the already-closing passage.

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Abel watched the Sword slip into their tight battle lines and instinctive parties, drawing blades and throwing spells in the practiced unison that would be expected from any military order. Living men of metal and stone moved forth to stop them, but were met with hard resistance. Somewhere amidst the clang of metal and flashes of light Abel heard a voice rise up, calling comrades in arms to hold the line. It was an incredible and impressive situation to watch, and the deliveryman had to admit the entire thing did draw a certain lure to military camaraderie.

Standing far from combat, Smithers panting at his side, Abel notched a razor edged arrow to his bowstring and scanned the battlefield for any viable targets. The angry looking metal dwarf would have been a good target, had a burst of searing light not torn through it seconds later. Then there was the rather menacing looking giant of a statute, which lost its leg to a mighty swing of Folvelors blade, and a second somewhat decrepit looking construct which was torn apart in a flurry of arcane energy. The combat was as furious and brutal as any that Abel had been a part of before, but the sheer scale of it all overwhelmed him for a moment.

Without further hesitation he picked one of the mighty iron dwarves charging forward into battle and loosed his arrow, watching with a sigh as it bounced uselessly from the constructs impassive iron face.

“I’m not really sure why I expected that to work.” Abel looked down to Smithers, who barked once and wagged his tail excitedly.

Looking around the battlefield he noticed the couple, that rogue and paladin who he had promised to assist, dashing for a side passage that was almost closed. Dashing forward in pursuit Abel stowed his bow and reached for one of the pistols hidden within the brace of his jacket, knowing it would be a bit more useful in close quarters than his more stealthy weapon of preference. He checked the flintlock weapon quickly, then turned to his faithful mastiff with a grin and a single command that sent the bloodhound dashing forward to obey.

“Sic em.”

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Just as he was about to swing his blade, Folvelor raised an eyebrow as the final construct left his field of vision sideways, hurled bodily to the ground by a furry form a quarter of its size. He spared a glance downward to see Carter's dog looking up at him from the construct's form and barking happily. Folvelor raised his runeblade over his head, swinging it down with a heavy blow to separate the arcane monstrosity's head from its shoulders.

The field of battle now clear, the death knight took stock of his people. Everyone was still on their feet, well most everyone; Wiq was actually balancing on top of one of the severed heads with one hand at the moment, using it as a pivot to swing his feet around to deliver a spinning upside-down kick to a construct that had apparently lost power while still standing, apparently not realizing just yet that the fight was over. Doing a quick head count however, brought Folvelor to the realization that he was short three people.

Where had Windstar, Dawnfire and Carter run off to?

He cleared his throat to address the gathered forces.

"Anyone see which way our two agents and our delivery man went?"

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